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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of speculative short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

4870+ Speculative Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Looking to explore terrains beyond Earth and stretch the limits of your imagination? Welcome to the Internet’s best source of speculative fiction stories.

Speculative Short Stories – Page 322 of 325

One Hundred Degrees

Submitted to Contest #53

David woke up at seven am and he knew instantly that today wasn’t going to be any different from yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. In fact, David would learn, today was going to be even worse than the past thirteen days. The temperature was already ninety degrees. He got up and took a cold shower. Cold was not really the right term as the water coming from the tap and shower was nearly eighty degrees. He washed his hair and basically rinsed off the sweat from last night, and then he got dressed for the day. Cotton underwe...

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Bread Loaves

Submitted to Contest #52

The tile floor is wet, glistening from murky water of a dirty mop.  Someone was cleaning, clearly, when the sirens rang out.  I had hurried, pulling up my pants, but I couldn’t get out fast enough with the rest.  Why is this day one of those, where I’m straining in the bathroom for an eternity? On top of it, only lukewarm water from the bathroom faucet to wash up. I probably had a hard time because of all the meat and cheese I ate yesterday.  No fiber, now that I recall. The gourmet cheese case is...

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Beyond Control

Submitted to Contest #52

  I remember it was really bright outside when I left for the store. The colors of the sky, grass, and trees were vibrant, as if someone had turned up the saturation to two hundred. Even the brown and red of the houses shone bright in the mid-morning sun.  It didn’t take me long to drive to the store, considering it was only fifteen minutes away from my apartment. I could tell my shopping trip would be quick too, judging by the lack of cars in the parking lot. I even was lucky to find a parking spot close to the entrance. Inside th...

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Ground Beneath My Feet vs. Ground Up In The Sky

Submitted to Contest #52

I used to be fascinated by the little blueish-white ball in the sky, rather than afraid. My first memory was of my mother teaching me that ground beneath my feet was called ‘earth’ and that ground in the sky was called ‘moon’. Through the glass we would gaze up at the moon, and Mum would tell me stories about the two million people that had gone to sleep in technologically decorated coffins beneath the surface just before the meteorite hit. Then Dad would tell me stories about the scouts that had flown to the moon to see if it was safe to ...

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The Know It All

Submitted to Contest #51

In my earliest memory, Dad saw something on TV that bought up painful memories. I dropped my toys and ran to Mum’s office, clutching her leg as tears streamed down my face. Mum rushed to his side, and from the office I was bombarded with fears I wished I could make go away. Later, they asked me to explain what had happened. I couldn’t. I didn’t have the words, and even if I did, I hadn’t yet realized how different I was. It would be two more years before I realized that I could read minds. *** It happened at my grandparent’s house....

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Ghost of a Forgotten Life

Submitted to Contest #51

Robert sat on the edge of his bed. The room was dark, almost entirely, except for a sliver of warm amber light coming from the old green banker’s lamp on his desk. His hands were folded together in his lap. His head hung forward and his shoulders drooped down. He breathed slow and shallow. Robert had given up. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice cracking and barely audible over the ever present hum of the furnace in his apartment. “Why?” asked a voice behind him. He turned suddenly to see a small boy, maybe ten years old, perched on the p...

13 likes 3 comments 3
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Redemption

Submitted to Contest #50

A man bearing the burden of a hard day’s labor upon his shoulders, DEREK REED, slowly makes his way down a dark hallway towards an apartment door. The thought of his warm bed and sleep, sweet glorious sleep, were the only things that kept him on his feet. The weary man inserts his key into the lock of his apartment door. But before he could open the door, a sound from behind the closed door assaults him like a sharp SLAP to the face. He pauses, apprehensively, while listening intently. What he hears is a woman, with a pleasant voice, singing...

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girl

J R

Submitted to Contest #49

I glance across the room for the fourth or fifth time, my gaze now well-versed in navigating the handful of plain faces to find the plain clock set against the plain wall. Another 2 minutes have passed since my last journey across the room, which leaves about 1-30 minutes to go, or maybe more. I'm not early; I never would have gotten here early on purpose. If I had, I would have waited in my car where I can somewhat relax. I actually arrived six minutes late, but it didn't matter because there was a complication with the appointment before m...

20 likes 7 comments 7
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"Whats the Deal With..."

Submitted to Contest #49

Jacinda always seemed to be in a daydream, lost adrift in her mind, fantasising the day away, but about what? What did Jacinda think about? What did she waste countless hours on? Who knows? Well, Jacinda knows. Ever since she was old enough to have a thought, which was unusually early for a "normal" person she had only ever thought about one thing, some say it drove her to madness, some say it drove to resolution, but Jacinda will tell you herself, it drove her to the very literal end of the road. Growing up in a claustrophobic city, barely ...

4 likes 1 comment 1
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Interstice

Submitted to Contest #49

At first glance, the Commission’s waiting room looked similar to the lobby of every hospital that Emil had ever visited. Its design was clean and minimalist, with seats arranged around the walls and a wide reception desk opposite the front door. The only difference was that a heavy, see-through barrier completely encircled the top of the desk, with rectangular openings near the bottom that seemed secured, from the inside, by a series of complicated-looking latches. Busy with keyboards and touchpads, the people behind it barely looked up...

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FACES OF WAR: A hero's story

Submitted to Contest #48

A stone-cold killer lies in wait. The killer is camouflaged on a rooftop in the center of a war torn city. The morning sun beats mercilessly down upon him. The killer, however, is undaunted by the intense heat, by the biting insects, or by the discomfort that comes from staying perfectly still for so many hours. His TRAINED-EYE is determined. It carefully scans his quadrant for a target among hordes of potential enemies. Any one of them could be a hostile. Often times, you never knew friend from foe until it was too late. Frustration, brough...

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Designated Archnemesis

Submitted to Contest #48

On the day of the Tiamat Event, Chokepoint was having a coffee with her prospective archnemesis. It was, to be honest, a pain in the ass. She hadn’t had to do one of these for years, banking on her reputation to deter most hopefuls. Unfortunately, most did not equate to all, and the Commission was really holding this one over her head. “Shouldn’t you be looking for a snobby art-critic type or something?” she asked, flatly. “Oh, where’s the fun in that?” The person across the table flashed a smile from behind her mask. Sup...

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Fuse

Submitted to Contest #48

It was the guinea pig that gave it away.When Emil was twelve the family still lived in the dingy apartment down the street from the canning factory. They lived with his grandmother, who seemed to have stayed in her rocking chair for so long that she had fused into it. She did little but knit, the whole day through, her eyes glued to old recordings of operas and ballet performances that played about on their little TV set. (The camerawork was so shaky that he decided they must have been recorded illicitly. He imagined his grandmother as ...

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They Aren't Real

Submitted to Contest #48

Every night, a solitary fear keeps me from falling asleep. I have no known phobias, and yet I will never be able to shake off the feeling that there are secret agents hiding in my walls, maybe next door, or under my bed, and once I fall asleep, they’ll catch me, and it will be game over.I’m not paranoid, you have to believe me. You and everybody else who reads this might be my only hope. You might even be the only hope for humanity.Allow me to explain.My name is Moacir. And I’m the world’s only superhero.Shocked? No, I don’t think so. You’ve...

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The Representation of Unreality

Submitted to Contest #48

(content warning: implied suicidal ideation) Once, there was a girl who was preternaturally good at creating representations. She could not tell how she came to possess this power. Perhaps she had been born with it, or perhaps one day she had gotten carried away reading Erich Auerbach and it had simply sprung into existence.She could do impressive things with this power, and for a time she put it to good use. She could make movies and carve ice-sculptures and impress small scribbles on a piece of paper, and all around her, the people would s...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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