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#336 In Discord

You know that moment when a conversation suddenly veers off course? Or when something that should click just… doesn’t? That's discord: a lack of agreement, a friction between people or ideas that won't resolve. It's the tension that makes you lean forward, pay attention, and wonder what’ll happen next.

This week’s prompts are all inspired by the word “discord” — and yes, by our recently revamped Discord server too. (A little on-the-nose? Maybe. But we're running with it.) Lean into the mess, the miscommunication, and all the moments when things refuse to align. New year, new story, so start 2026 strong by jumping into this week’s contest (and joining our Discord community to workshop your ideas with fellow writers, while you’re at it!).

Good luck, and happy writing!

This week's prompts

Write a story entirely in dialogue (e.g., an argument or a conversation that spirals out of control).

Dialogue – 12 stories

Include a moment in which someone says the wrong thing — and can't take it back.

Short Story – 10 stories

Write a story with a time, number, or year in the title.

Short Story – 11 stories

Start or end your story with two characters going in opposite directions (literally or figuratively).

Dramatic – 16 stories

Write a story with the line “This isn’t what I signed up for,” “This is all my fault,” or “That’s not what I meant.”

Dialogue – 16 stories

Stories

How Turkeys Drown in the Rain, or Three Floods

Submitted to Contest #336

Teresa puts a wilting rose in a sea green bottle and admires her handiwork shortly thereafter. She looks outside her window and sees you looking in at her. The water is up to your chest and you are gulping in air as though practicing for when it will consume you. Teresa doesn’t quite laugh to herself, but she makes a little noise indicating that she thinks where you are is the result of your choices and nothing else. We try to tell her that you have amnesia, but she doesn’t believe it. Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t believe in amnesia...

15 likes 14 comments 14
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Almost

Submitted to Contest #336

The last time they saw eachother was when they walked away from each other at the same time.They hadn't planned on it; no, they would never plan such a dreadful thing.They agreed on it.It had come to a point where both of them understood that staying meant more hurt, more fights, more pain. Staying longer required needing more courage, more hope, but they had both lost it all deep down in the depths of their joined souls.Maxine made her way to the shore of the beach, flip-flops in her hands, as the cold sand bit into her feet. She used the c...

14 likes 2 comments 2
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The Question

Submitted to Contest #336

"Hey, so, quick question—and I mean quick, like genuinely quick, not the kind of quick where I say quick but then it turns into this whole thing where I'm detailing the socioeconomic implications of like, I don't know, oat milk pricing structures at Whole Foods versus Trader Joe's, which—actually, have you noticed that Trader Joe's oat milk is legitimately half the price but somehow tastes worse? Like, objectively worse. I thought it would be one of those situations where your brain convinces you the expensive version is better because of ps...

12 likes 6 comments 6
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The Old Man and the Snow

Submitted to Contest #336

“You shouldn’t be here,” Eric said. His voice was pain. Dry. The young man closed his eyes, pressed fingers to his throat near his collarbone, winced and then cleared it. The pain stayed, but he could breathe. There he stood, eyes closed, listening. Ancient oak planks creaked and groaned, stressed by the pressure of an icy, hollow baritone wind. He thought it sounded more like an old ship than a cabin. When Eric opened his eyes, his grandfather was no longer there. The young man’s attention snapped from the wooden walls blanketed in shadow, ...

11 likes 4 comments 4
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Small Wins, Not Dead Yet

Submitted to Contest #336

“Okay. So, status check. Zara, you are not dead. Theo, you are also not dead. That is objectively good news.”“Yet. Emphasis on yet. We are not dead yet. Put it on a motivational poster.”“I am not making posters. I am monitoring fifteen critical failures and one reality leak that looks personal.”“Can you both stop? We literally just crawled out of a collapsing datastream. I can still feel the lag in my bones.”“Correction. You crawled. I was flung. Aggressively. Like a very sarcastic frisbee with unresolved trauma.”“Theo, Zara, focus. The Core...

10 likes 8 comments 8
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Fear in the Air

Submitted to Contest #336

This story explores how a single, ordinary sentence—spoken at the wrong moment—can’t be taken back, and how its consequences ripple through a relationship and an entire town. Reuben Ortiz and Chantelle Beaudoin had been together for four years—long enough for their hopes to harden and their habits to settle into something that looked like certainty from the outside. They had been prom king and queen once, the kind of couple that still photographed well, the kind that suggested permanence even when it wasn’t true anymore.Chantelle wanted t...

9 likes 5 comments 5
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I Have Strong Feelings For You Too

Submitted to Contest #336

Today, I tell Neveah that I’m in love with her.The confession has been burning in my chest for what feels like years. Truthfully, it may have only been a few weeks or months. The exact time is hard to quantify. Every time I walk into her coffee shop, she greets me with a “Hey hun, havin’ the usual today?” Then everything else fades into the background. Yet, every time, I still leave the coffee shop with nothing but the usual.Not this time. Today, I tell her. Butterflies be damned.With Neveah on my mind, my morning routine is a blur. One mom...

9 likes 3 comments 3
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The Anniversary

Submitted to Contest #336

The restaurant was too bright, Claire thought. Everything was too bright—the white tablecloths, the chrome fixtures, the afternoon sun streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. Her mother had chosen this place. Of course she had."Forty years," her father said, raising his water glass. His hands trembled slightly, the way they had since the stroke. "Can you believe it, Claire-bear?"Claire smiled and lifted her own glass. Across the table, her mother sat perfectly straight in a cream-colored blazer, her lipstick the exact shade of rose it ha...

8 likes 3 comments 3
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Thirty-seven

Submitted to Contest #336

Content warning: violence, sexual assault, psychological trauma. Thirty-seven days and thirty-eight tormenting nights have passed. I didn’t live through the days, only counted them—why, I don’t even know. Daylight went faster in the waking haze I’ve existed in for thirty-seven days. But when night comes, the lights go out, the noise dies, and in the silence of my soul the words return, echoing; my closed eyes see everything—red blood, green eyes, a white top, blonde hair matted with blood, a thick crimson pool on the floor before the white l...

8 likes 4 comments 4
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Close Enough

Submitted to Contest #336

I wake up with anxiety in the pit of my stomach and immediately check my phone. Ash was online at 5 AM. Just like I suspected since our brief conversation yesterday, he’s had another one of those days — or, rather, nights.I type a short message, just one sentence: “I’m coming over.” He sees it and starts typing, but I don’t wait for a reply. I already know what he’s going to say, and he already knows I won’t agree. We might as well skip the arguing. Or at least delay it until I actually see him.It’s raining, but I don’t bother to take an umb...

8 likes 3 comments 3
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The Lab Rat

Submitted to Contest #336

Being stuck inside a test tube was perhaps not the best place to fall in love but it was surely the best place to stay safe. We’d been living on borrowed time, ever since the 2030 Pandemic had hit us hard. More virulent and vicious than even Covid 19, we had to think of ways to outwit the virus before the world’s population died off entirely. So, I was not surprised when the Prime Minister called me late one night, just as I was tucking into my vitamin-enhanced matcha tea in my air-filtered pod.“Dr. Julia Fellows?” he checked. I concurred, r...

7 likes 4 comments 4
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The Banks of the Liffey

Submitted to Contest #336

Eblana, 137. Faint music woke her in the early light of dawn—fog curling off the Liffey in gentle wisps. The water tugged at her small boat, like fabric snared on a thorn, pulling against the bank’s rocky shore.A lilting rhythm of plucked strings carried over the taffrail, drifting through the shallow curve of the boat and nestling in the space between the crates.Sleepily, she rubbed her face on the plush wool blanket she’d buried herself under.Somewhere up the muddy slope, a lamb bleated, joining the percussion of soft strings. It sounded l...

7 likes 5 comments 5
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When I See You

Submitted to Contest #336

Jason spotted her at the rail, waiting for him, but something in the way she held herself made him slow his steps. The crowd pressed around her, shifting, restless forcing her hands to wrap tight around the metal. She kept leaning forward, as if the plane passengers would flood into the airport sooner if she strained enough. The doors slid open and closed. Men came through, women, kids with stuffed animals, business suits. She stayed on her toes. He walked slowly, the weight of his duffel slung over one shoulder, his camo uniform, slightl...

7 likes 3 comments 3
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Impasse

Submitted to Contest #336

Impossible. They should be able to work this out. After all they have been through, this, this is the thing that they can't get past. They stare past each other from across the room. He stands, shoulders stiff, staring out the window. She sits, hands on her lap, lips between her teeth. Her eyes are too full of tears to focus on anything. She seems to be looking at the books on the coffee table. They are arranged perfectly. Everything is. The beige couch she is sitting on is free of stains. The white rug under it is as pristine as it was when...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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The Breakup That Didn’t Stick

Submitted to Contest #336

“Ohh hiii cutie… I was just thinking about you.” “Well lucky I called then. What’s happening? You OK to talk?” “Yeah… I’m good. I’ve been working on my reflection notes since finishing my graveyard shift last night. Four pages… reading over them. Sometimes, I forget how insightful I can be.” “Oh... cool. Do you think it’s helping?” “Yeah… it’s good to get it all down. Some of these patients… they’re beyond help. I’ll send my notes to you.” “Ah… that’s okay. I don’t really understand your field that much… won’t be able to give you good feedba...

7 likes 2 comments 2
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