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#309 Strangers Again

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the need to feel connected — to be seen, remembered, or maybe even just understood. Over the years, I've noticed how connection can manifest in the smallest of things: a shared meal, a passing glance, a familiar name we can’t quite place.

This week, let’s write stories about that pull between people. From fleeting relationships to chance encounters with strangers who seem like old friends, let's explore yearning and connection, even when things are complicated or just out of reach.

🥇 Winner

Barney in the Rubble

Winner of Contest #309 🏆

The first time they bumped into each other, she was holding a bouquet, and he was giving a bride away. She could feel him looking at her, and she blushed the same color as her peonies and tried not to smile more than the beatific Mona Lisa half-grin she’d had plastered on her face all morning. She'd smiled so much her face hurt. She couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room and drink alcohol from tiny bottles and frown at her reflection in the mirror in order to flex the overworked muscles in the opposite direction. It’s never appropriate ...

145 likes 91 comments 91
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⭐️ Shortlisted

The Day That Wouldn’t Disappear

Shortlisted for Contest #309 ⭐️

Elian woke before the chime. That wasn’t unusual. He always rose early. But this time, he knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. The ticking had changed. Not louder. Not off-beat. Just... perfect. Too perfect. The little brass regulator on the mantle ticked with a precision that made his teeth itch, like time was trying too hard to behave. He sat up on the cot, rubbing sleep from his face. The air in the shop was still warm from the furnace’s overnight burn. It smelled faintly of oil, iron shavings, and old paper. Then he sa...

35 likes 26 comments 26
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This week's prompts

Write a story that includes the line “Do I know you?” or “Have we met before?”

Dramatic – 91 stories

Start or end your story with a character making food or a drink for themself or someone else.

Short Story – 71 stories

Center your story around a character who yearns for someone or something they’ve lost — or never had.

Character – 119 stories

Write a story with a person’s name in the title.

Short Story – 63 stories

Center your story around two characters who like each other but don’t get a happily ever after.

Dramatic – 73 stories

Stories

Barney in the Rubble

Winner of Contest #309 🏆

The first time they bumped into each other, she was holding a bouquet, and he was giving a bride away. She could feel him looking at her, and she blushed the same color as her peonies and tried not to smile more than the beatific Mona Lisa half-grin she’d had plastered on her face all morning. She'd smiled so much her face hurt. She couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room and drink alcohol from tiny bottles and frown at her reflection in the mirror in order to flex the overworked muscles in the opposite direction. It’s never appropriate ...

145 likes 91 comments 91
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The Act of Spreading Ashes

Submitted to Contest #309

Technically, the law says it's illegal, but who cares. Honoring my father's last request is worth the risk. Just how I'm going to spread his ashes over Niagara Falls is fuzzy. Dad would say, "Just wing it. Life isn't planned, it's experienced." My hometown of Buffalo is only twenty minutes from the Falls, so I'm far from being a tourist, but my instincts are telling me to dress like one. If a ranger gets a whiff of my intentions, he'll ban me from the park, ending all hopes of accomplishing my task. Dressed in my "Dad Bod" t-shirt, blue jean...

60 likes 30 comments 30
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Camera of Coincidence

Submitted to Contest #309

My mom’s been dead now 27 ½ days, but it feels like 27 ½ years. Losing her has been hard. No more phone calls at 6am, telling me to get a job. It annoyed me at the time, but now I really miss it. Why? Why did this happen? She was so young, barely 60 years old. By the time they diagnosed the cancer, it was already too late. She withered into something unrecognizable. By the end, she was well under 100 pounds, with sunken cheeks. She was a woman who spent her life finding beauty in her surroundings through the lens of a camera, only to have it...

59 likes 56 comments 56
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Jenny

Submitted to Contest #309

The air in Haight-Ashbury vibrated with a thousand conversations, a symphony of strummed guitars, and the scent of patchouli and freedom. Jenny McCormick, her long, dirty blonde hair catching the afternoon sun, leaned against a weathered storefront, sketching in her notebook. Suddenly, a young man with eyes the color of a summer sky and a mop of unruly dark hair bumped into her, scattering her charcoal pencils. "Whoa, sorry!" he exclaimed, a grin splitting his face. "Heath's the name." "Jenny," she replied, laughing at the slight chaos. He h...

47 likes 24 comments 24
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The Mourning Tea

Submitted to Contest #309

The kettle screamed, and so did the voice in the steam. Iris Blackwood pressed her palms against the kitchen counter, watching vapor rise in ghostly spirals. Three months since David's funeral, and she still heard whispers in every sound. The kettle held secrets. She reached for the mason jar on the highest shelf, her movements deliberate and reverent. Inside, dried petals caught the afternoon light like fragments of bone. Corpse-Blooms. The name felt sharp on her tongue, a word that belonged in old books and darker times. Yet here they were...

44 likes 22 comments 22
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Miss Claudie

Submitted to Contest #309

The First InterviewI was on a cruise when I found out. On that first night in Juneau, my cleaner sent me a WhatsApp message, telling me that Claudie had ‘crossed over,’ as she put it. Is Alaska an unusual choice? Not for me, dear. I dislike hot countries. They always look unfinished. If I may, might I help myself to my wine and cigarettes? At eighty, I can’t help believing that to give them up now would kill me. Help yourself to the kitchen, and come and go as you please. If you want to leave your equipment here, it will be perfectly safe. I...

37 likes 39 comments 39
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The Day That Wouldn’t Disappear

Shortlisted for Contest #309 ⭐️

Elian woke before the chime. That wasn’t unusual. He always rose early. But this time, he knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. The ticking had changed. Not louder. Not off-beat. Just... perfect. Too perfect. The little brass regulator on the mantle ticked with a precision that made his teeth itch, like time was trying too hard to behave. He sat up on the cot, rubbing sleep from his face. The air in the shop was still warm from the furnace’s overnight burn. It smelled faintly of oil, iron shavings, and old paper. Then he sa...

35 likes 26 comments 26
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The Quartzite Dream

Submitted to Contest #309

Sofia was ushered toward airport security and the Terminal C departures, with only the clothes on her back to her name.Just moments earlier, she'd frozen on the United Airlines check-in prompt: “Number of bags?” Everything she owned was in those two bags.“Ma’am, just enter two,” the agent said gently. “The tags will print.”“Right, right,” she muttered.At the counter, the clerk asked her to place the bags on the conveyor belt. Sofia lifted the first, fingers tight around the leather handle.“Can I have that?” the clerk asked.Sofia hesitated, t...

32 likes 16 comments 16
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All At Sea

Submitted to Contest #309

Armed with a bitter tasting coffee that was strong enough to stave off a hangover, Mike barely heard the waves lashing the lighthouse walls. Once a popular artist, he had spent the past ten years in his solitary home painting stark seascapes. They were mostly black and white, with hints of grey breaking out as an afterthought. These days, applying brush strokes seemed like chasing empty dreams on canvases. Unlike his earlier crowd-pleasing scenes of bathers enjoying the sea, Mike was never satisfied upon completing the dark sea pictures. Ins...

28 likes 34 comments 34
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Predicament on Pick-a-Power Planet

Submitted to Contest #309

CW: This story contains goofy descriptions of violence and brief language. Ten.Nine.The numbers slowly ticked down in Graham’s mind. When he reached zero, the situation he found himself in would be resolved, one way or another.Graham stared into the steely grey eyes of the man across from him. This man was immaculately dressed in a tight fitting black suit that showed the impressive definition of his biceps, chest, and back. The fit on his physique made him look like a panther wearing spandex, but like a sexy-killer version of that. Graham ...

28 likes 27 comments 27
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Maybe One Day

Submitted to Contest #309

Maybe One Day The drive home was devastating. Seeing the man that crashed into her sister's car killing her all those years ago brought up all those painful memories again. Memories Thel thought she put behind her long ago. As shaken as the chance meeting left her feeling it became obvious the loss was still fresh in her mind or at least hovering right beneath the surface ready to haunt her unmercifully. A new revelation struck her. The shock of losing her sister she was so close to in age and companionship had negatively affected her abilit...

27 likes 19 comments 19
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Pando

Submitted to Contest #309

Pando was dying when the alien intelligence spoke to him. The blustery wind blew down the Delano Peak, across Fish Lake to shake and rattle the vibrant yellow leaves off tens of thousands of trees. Those that remained whispered soft farewells to their falling neighbors, shimmering in the fading light like so many flashbulbs as they drifted slowly toward the ground. They fell to provide nutrients for the insects, plants, and fungus which grew in and around Pando’s deep and extensive roots. Born in a distant age when the warming climate first...

27 likes 22 comments 22
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The Red Drink: A Tale of the Arts Department

Submitted to Contest #309

“How about a Sorel Hibiscus Mule?”“I’d prefer a Ten-to-One, you don’t mind,” I told the “bartender.” “Never was a vodka girl.”Her nearly unlined face tightened slightly, drawing the ruby smile out and adding a new glint to the still-sharp espresso eyes. “Do I know you?”That was Thea. Fifty years and some change later, despite the $100 sterling silver cut and sleek Sika dress, it was the same “girl” who’d flipped off a heavily armored Chicago cop, teeth pressed against bottom lip in an undeniable expression of defiance, and still managed to e...

26 likes 6 comments 6
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No Flinching

Submitted to Contest #309

The Uber eased onto the highway, the air conditioner on full blast to chase off the July heat that clung to everything like a damp second skin. Evelyn peeled the label from a bottle of sparkling water while Aldo tapped through the wedding itinerary on his phone. “Okay,” he said, angling the screen toward her. “So the white linen welcome dinner is not optional. It’s got three exclamation points and a heart.” “Classy,” Evelyn murmured. She creased the label between her fingers, then folded it into a tiny triangle. “I hope we’re allowed to sit ...

26 likes 12 comments 12
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The tomb of someone who never lived

Submitted to Contest #309

A dark marble tomb sits high on a gloomy knoll to the west of Darksford cemetery. Its distinctive edifice, carved with skilfully crafted words, glints in the sunlight on the rarest of fine days, when the rhododendron bushes part their leafy green hands and allow the unassuming passerby to catch a glance of the monolith that waits there. *** It was on one such day that George Godfrey, a writer of sorts and part time curator at the town’s library, was taking a purposeless meander through Darksford cemetery in search of something he knew not....

25 likes 26 comments 26
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