Write a story about a character who’s lost.

Posted in Narrative on Nov 29, 2024

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✍️ 74 stories

“(fragmented)” by Harry Stuart

Submitted to Contest #279

“You take a right at the end of this block (heartbreak). Then, you go about a quarter mile down, past the old Blackwell mansion with its decaying fence-line (internal suffering), and make a hard left. You’ll meander through the wooded property for what feels like forever (memory sifting) until your legs are weak, lungs gasping for air (anxiety-fueled panic). Through the clearing, you’ll find a stream where you can indulge in refreshment (selective remembering). Don’t be alarmed, at that point, you’ll be close. What you’re looking f...

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“Tree of Life” by Daniel Rogers

Submitted to Contest #279

I trudged through a foot of snow, squinting as frozen missiles pelted my goggles. The wind had a physical presence like a wall of water. I swam through the storm more than I walked. I desperately needed shelter. Peering through the barrage of snowflakes, I could barely make out a darkish line. I pressed forward, refusing to surrender to the irrational desire to lie down and rest.The dark line turned out to be a forest. Once I entered, the relentless attack lessened. The wind howled through the conifer trees like wolves who lost their prey. I...

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“Just an old woman” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #279

Lost in thoughts, she sits at the window and looks out at the street. Though she doesn’t see the trees covering their nakedness with blossoms and delicate young leaves. Nor doesn’t she see the children come home, coats and jackets undone, scarves and mittens stuffed in pockets, or the birds building a nest in the tree outside her window.Instead, she sees the young girl, braids flying as she runs down the alley behind the row of houses. She clutches a crumpled paper with the gold star. The child can’t wait to show mama, convinced that this wi...

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“All the Ways We Learn” by A.R. Eakle

Submitted to Contest #279

Maggie stomped to her son’s room, opened the door with a hard movement, and hollered at him, “What’s this I’m hearing ‘bout you trying to show all these girls the town? I didn’t raise no mut to whore ‘round the streets, Jameson Daniel. I don’t care what hormones you have raging through you right now, but, boy, I swear to the Jesus and Mother Mary, if I hear anything else ‘bout you rummaging through these girls’ drawers, I will skin your white ass red on the courthouse steps for the entire county to witness. You hear me, boy?”James was in the...

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“Changing Rooms” by Story Time

Submitted to Contest #279

If the mirror didn’t suit her, she’d walk to the next one. That’s how she wound up lost. Two mirrors in a row painted an unflattering portrait, and so she kept on like the March Hare or the Mad Hatter. Another mirror, and another. Finally, she found one that presented a suitable image. The jacket cinched properly; the pants the right length. It frustrated her that the older she got, the more mirrors she had to find, but that was the reality of getting on. There wasn’t much to be done about it, and she certainly wasn’t one to complain. When s...

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“Charlotte Plumier Gets Lost” by Rebecca Hurst

Submitted to Contest #279

This absurd tale draws heavily on the marvellous Hector Hugh Munro and his short story, The Disappearance of Crispina Umberleigh. Only the ending is significantly different, and it made me realise, when developing my own, just how difficult it must have been for him to write himself out of the wonderful hole he had dug!*****Twenty years ago, the wife of the Member for Cromer Heath went missing. One moment, she had been haranguing a shopkeeper in the market town where she lived with her husband and children, and the next she was gone. In...

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“The Bruha and The Bruho” by Thomas Wetzel

Submitted to Contest #279

Clay was driving west on I-270 towards Saint Louis. The radio was off. He was alone with his thoughts. His father had died two days ago and he was on his way from Chicago to the services, trying to reconcile his feelings on the road. He loved his father but the old man was very difficult at times. He didn’t really view Clay as his son. He viewed him as his private property, to do with as he wished. It was always football practice, baseball games, wrestling meets, karate lessons and more. Sometimes Clay just wanted to hang out with his friend...

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“On the road, again ...” by Geertje H

Submitted to Contest #279

On the road again…“Coward!” Theo shakes his fist at the lone sliver of sunlight that peeks briefly under the storm clouds before it slips behind the western horizon. The wind slaps his words back into his face, sharpening the rain into cat claws.His boots squish through the mud and soaked leaves. His clothes, weighted down by the relentless rain, cling to his skin. His cold hands stuffed into damp pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold, hat pulled down low over his brow, he slogs on. What might have looked like a path in the dreary dayl...

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“ELIM CHIVOLUDARS MEMOIRS – SOLITUDE” by Darvico Ulmeli

Submitted to Contest #279

Does it ever sink in your gut, cold and unrelenting, when you're sure you're right, but every sign points to you being wrong? It's not just a feeling; it's a slow, gnawing unease, like the faint creak of wood beneath your feet, warning of an unseen collapse. And yet, you push forward despite the bitter taste of doubt on your tongue. The air around you feels heavy and damp, almost suffocating, as if every step is a struggle to move through invisible quicksand. Those who stand in your way don't even realize they're blocking you. They mistaken...

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“Paper Snowflakes” by VJ Hamilton

Submitted to Contest #279

Faelyn dug the blade of her chisel into the wood, one chip at a time. Her brother, Sammy, sat on a crate beside her, snipping at a folded paper. In the bunker around them, the shelves were so laden with supplies they curved under the weight. Canned foods, hardware goods, and metal replacement parts jostled for space with tins of biscuits and sacks of beans. The contents of an average-sized house had been shaken out and crammed into a space one-tenth the size. Uggggh, she was sick of that room.Bits of wood and paper drifted onto the scuffed c...

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“Mosaic” by Elton James

Submitted to Contest #279

I am drowning in a churning sea of memories. As each experience finishes, no, before each finishes, I am thrown into the next. I am a mother watching my child run through rain soaked grass. The delighted laughter at mud squelching under their feet fills my heart with joy. I am confused. I feel no heartbeat. Do I have a heart? Is this my memory? I have no time to reflect, the next memory consumes me. I stand in darkness under a canvas gazebo. The immense sound of it on the thin, inadequate layer of cloth drowns out everything else. I am soake...

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“Letters from Nowhere” by Cajek Veilwinter

Submitted to Contest #279

The huge, palace-like Interpol office in Lyon was well lit. On the outside, the stark columns and shadows made it appear well ordered, but that night there was disorder within. Director Ranjit was spending another night in his usually austere office, trying to string together the breadcrumbs that his crafty opponent had left for him. The hulking tiger’s office was cluttered with maps, dossiers, coffee cups, cyphers - both broken and unbroken - and dominated by a picture of the fox he was hunting, tacked to a billboard and looking on the scen...

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“The Happy Place” by Anne Reed

Submitted to Contest #279

Matilda Gardner woke up suddenly, her whole body jerking so that it pulled the covers off of her head. She glanced to the left and saw a window above her bed, sunlight streaming through sheer pink curtains. But this was wrong. It was all wrong. Matilda slowly sat up and looked down at her blankets. There was a quilt lying across her bed, and underneath the quilt were white sheets. Slowly, apprehensively, she turned her head to the right and saw a completely unfamiliar bedroom. There was a white vanity table and mirror, cluttered with make-...

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“The Forest is My Cage” by Virtual Chesse Emporium

Submitted to Contest #279

A soft hand on his cheek stirs a farmer awake. He opens his eyes to see a woman with soft blue eyes leaning over him. A basket laden with clothes sits by her side.“Excuse me sir, are you alright?” she asks. The farmer’s right eye twitches. He slowly sits up and looks around. They sat in a sunny forest full of trees laden with emerald green leaves. Birds chirped, rabbits and squirrels squeaked and chittered, and a group of nearby doe grazed on a flower bush. “Uh, I believe so, yes.” he says, “I confess, I don’t really know how I got here...

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“Dogs and what not :)” by Priyanjali Bhattacharyya

Submitted to Contest #279

15 dogs stared at me like I was their next meal. Saliva dripped as they growled at me. Should I charge at them before they charged at me? Should I run? Should I let them have a go at me and drink up their blood?I didn’t know if drinking blood from a different species worked. Another question I had to ask of Jay.Nope I waited too long. I closed my eyes as they howled and just as they went for the kill, "Poppy! Here!" Someone shouted and I clutched at the vine that was attached to the pulley with a heavier weight on the other side. Just like t...

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Write a story about a character who’s lost.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 74 stories

“(fragmented)” by Harry Stuart

“Tree of Life” by Daniel Rogers

“Just an old woman” by Trudy Jas

“All the Ways We Learn” by A.R. Eakle

“Changing Rooms” by Story Time

“Charlotte Plumier Gets Lost” by Rebecca Hurst

“The Bruha and The Bruho” by Thomas Wetzel

“On the road, again ...” by Geertje H

“ELIM CHIVOLUDARS MEMOIRS – SOLITUDE” by Darvico Ulmeli

“Paper Snowflakes” by VJ Hamilton

“Mosaic” by Elton James

“Letters from Nowhere” by Cajek Veilwinter

“The Happy Place” by Anne Reed

“The Forest is My Cage” by Virtual Chesse Emporium

“Dogs and what not :)” by Priyanjali Bhattacharyya

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story from the POV of a zombie, mutant, or infected creature.

Follow a character who’s looking for someone or something.

Write a story about someone confronting their worst nightmare.

Center your story around a person who believes they’re the last human on Earth.

Contest #279

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

334

Contest entries

146

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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