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Write a story where a character's true identity or self is revealed.

Posted in Dramatic on Aug 15, 2025

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✍️ 89 stories

Super

Submitted to Contest #316

Kit found parking and entered the restaurant. Standing with the others awaiting a table, he realized all sport jackets and ties were not equal. Dressed well enough, better than the cleaning crew, he looked more like a store manager than a diner at this five-star restaurant. When the Maître de looked at him, Kit stepped up and gave his name. He smiled. “My date is running late. Can I get our table now?”This was out of protocol but the Maître de shook off the rules and signaled to a waiter. Kit followed the waiter to a table across the dining ...

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The Reaper of Appalachia

Submitted to Contest #316

The cool fog settled on Joe’s face as he stepped out the front door. He hastily wiped his hands on his jeans and fixed his bloodshot eyes forward. The sun had only just begun to rise above the misty blue mountains. He took in the sight with newborn eyes, though sixty years of hardship had set deep creases around them. The magic of the Blue Ridge Mountains never faded. If anything, the longer he allowed his roots to grow deep into the rocks, the more they captivated him. At night, this stretch of Appalachia came alive with terrible sounds tha...

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Down the Rabbit Hole

Submitted to Contest #316

El Tejolote did not want to be in Stanton. He did not want to be in Orange County. He did not want to be in California. When push came to shove, and there would be shoving, he did not want to be in el Estados Unidos. He wanted to be wrestling in Juárez. Or Chihuahua. Not now. Not today. Ill will. Ill feelings.With a sigh, he stood from the white folding chair he had been sitting in. The air conditioning blew cool on the back of his green and gold máscara. He needed to get moving. The warmup he had done a few hours ago on the taekwondo gym fl...

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Surreptitious

Submitted to Contest #316

It’s no rare occasion for Mandy Roswell to get tired of things that the majority of people don’t. Talking with her benchmate in her class? What to most would be taken as a recreational activity would feel like being in a tightlock, where each second that passed in the conversation would feel like two walls closing in to crush her. Doing a group project? Felt like trying to clap a stray mosquito hovering around; nothing could get in her head unless she focused on one topic or sentence her workmates would utter. Small talks? Oh, please, don’t ...

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Tôi là tôi. I am me.

Submitted to Contest #316

A viet-glish (vietnamese-english) short story. The rice cooker ticks like a slow heart. Dawn bruises the strip-mall glass. He rinses rice until the water runs clear enough to see rivers in his palms.Steam climbs. The first pot is for her.Tôi comes with small, stubborn steps; apron folded the same; hands dark with old burns. She touches the pot with the backs of her knuckles and nods once like a general. Chào buổi sáng, her eyes say. He answers with the rinse bowl, the set of his shoulders, a soft dạ.Knives hang like thin moons. He lays fish ...

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The Winnipeg Incident

Submitted to Contest #316

July 3, 1978. 7:20 P.M. Winnipeg, Manitoba.“Hey, mister,” a freckle-faced red head in his late teens said with a condescending politeness as his eyes focused up on my forehead. “But, has anyone, ever told you, that… you look like-” “Yeah,” I replied. Beating around the bush was futile more often than not. My last haircut, a regrettable to surrender to a pang of vanity, had unfortunately left the boltheads of both my temples too visible. Given that there were about twenty other men in this clearing, it was probably going to come up a lot more...

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A Red Face

Submitted to Contest #316

“Eleanore?” Caleb said in shock at the scene before him. His friend, whom he’s known since they were seven years old. For eleven years, they’ve played together, eaten together, laughed together, and cried together. He was certain no one knew her better than he, and no one knew him better than her. Three men lay on the floor of the stable, all surrounding Eleanore in a bloody circle. One had a large chunk of his throat missing, gurgling on his blood, accompanied by the occasional twitch of a finger. Another was pale, his neck twisted at an un...

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SNOW SYNDROME

Submitted to Contest #316

Erik looked at his tutor expectantly. Professor Henry Pedersen, sixty three years of age, the man he revered for having honed him into the excellent lawyer that he now promised to be, seemed lost in thought, considering how best to proceed. Over the last few years, here in the professor’s rooms within the cloistered Minnesotan University of Law, his teacher had taught him the finer points of litigation, making the lessons both fascinating and educational, digging up bygone cases, enabling the study of court strategies of attorneys, long sinc...

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The Shadow in the Frame

Submitted to Contest #316

The old portrait gallery was Elias’s sanctuary. Dust motes danced in the slivers of afternoon light, illuminating the stoic faces of forgotten aristocrats and long-dead merchants. He was the curator, the quiet guardian of these captured souls, and he knew each of their stories as if they were his own. He spent his days in careful restoration, his delicate brushes coaxing life back into faded canvases. But his nights were spent with her.She hung in the most secluded alcove, a woman in a sapphire gown, her face a symphony of secrets. The artis...

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A Walk in the Park

Submitted to Contest #316

Callum Docherty walked in the park not because he enjoyed it, but because he had to. It was lucky that he lived in Hamilton and that Gage park was right around the corner - it was big enough that he didn’t raise too many eyebrows on his seemingly endless rambles, especially if he seemed to be hanging around when there were kids nearby. It wasn’t like that. Callum’s incessant need to walk around the park was a result of his need to constantly be absorbed in his surroundings, to keep his mind and senses occupied at all times. The vodka helped...

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Veils of ink and linen

Submitted to Contest #316

She had moved two seats closer to him this time and exchanged the light beer for a mojito. She had found her courage. It tasted like rum, soda and lime. She just needed a natural way to start the conversation. That’s where she got stuck last night. Just staring at him from the far end of the bar, as he made cocktails and bantered with strangers. At least she had a better view this time, and could even pick up bits and pieces of his conversations. Everything around her looked like a holiday postcard come alive. The open-air bar, made of wood...

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The Parents

Submitted to Contest #316

A blaze erupted from the match and it slowly brought out its light into the world. William bent over to light all four lanterns on the table. He looked out and admired his work with a smirk. Four chairs which he personally built and a table from the neighbor John. In William’s town, there was not very many people and so he made sure to be as friendly as possible to anyone who came by. William quite hated the table, always had. He found the edges unrefined and the craftsmanship shoddy. One of the corners stood up from an error in measuring. “...

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The Midnight Watchman

Submitted to Contest #316

The Midnight WatchmanBy day, everyone in Willow Creek knew Raymond Holt as “Mr. Ray,” the tireless president of the Neighborhood Betterment Council. He organized block parties, led litter cleanups, and ensured every streetlight burned brightly. Children waved as he passed, neighbors nodded appreciatively, and visitors often marveled at how safe and vibrant the streets felt. To the residents, Mr. Ray was the reason their streets were alive with laughter, safe for evening strolls, and a place where families could thrive.But nighttime told a di...

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THE MANTICORE

Submitted to Contest #316

“She did what?”“She canceled her contract. The new book's not going to be ready.”“Two days ago she told me everything was good to go. We'll go with whatever she's got.”“No—you don't understand. She's destroyed the entire book.”“Oh, no! We own this new character of hers. It's our property. Chimera Comics owns the rights to The Blue Krait, The D-Men, and The Black Locust. Standard work-for-hire contract. Her brain children are all part of the Chimera Stable.”“Do you remember that big production you made to get her on board, you wined and dined...

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Closing In

Submitted to Contest #316

CLOSING IN“Look at those trees”, she said.She had already been gazing at them for some while, How their long thin leafy tops reacted to the autumn wind. How the centre held but the outer layers with nowhere to blow except outwards all went their separate ways before returning to the others. This Rosy carefully explained to Derek as they sat on the park bench.“You know I think on the return they hug each other tighter than ever”Derek was not over-imaginative as far as tree behaviour was concerned but he felt Rosy was saying something about th...

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