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Write a story with an open ending that gives readers just enough details to draw their own conclusions.

Posted in Narrative on Sep 15, 2023

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✍️ 111 stories

Long Live the King

Winner of Contest #216 🏆

"I was eight years old the first time I heard his name." Shifting in the hard plastic seat, my wrists are shackled to a metal chain link at the center of the table, limiting my mobility.The officer observes my discomfort passively, already impatient and annoyed with my recollection of events."I was thinking a little more recent, Miss Clark. Like why you were caught standing outside his home with a bloody—""No, no, you don't understand. I need to start at the beginning. So you can understand," I enunciate, not trusting Officer Dougher, an ove...

169 likes 93 comments 93
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Coffee, Crumbs, and Crisis

Submitted to Contest #216

Someone had taken a bite out of his croissant. He was pretty sure he bought a whole one and there was no-one else at their usual table because Jess hadn’t arrived yet – because Jess was late, keeping her usual schedule – but he also didn’t remember taking a bite himself.But he felt crumbs on his lips, between his teeth. Could he have done it? He decided to take another bite, thinking it might jog his memory. No, nothing. He felt his teeth tear the flaky pastry, felt its dough dissolve on his tongue, but it was utterly flavourless. Or rather,...

60 likes 60 comments 60
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They Know Better

Submitted to Contest #216

I open my eyes and look over at the clock.              “Why do I continue to do so?” I ask myself.              Every single day I am scheduled to wake up at six am. Programmed into all of us, so we received the right amount of sleep. We no longer had control over the amount of sleep we take once they inserted the chip under our skin.              “...

57 likes 37 comments 37
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The Menagerie

Submitted to Contest #216

Don Benway and his father were regulars at the hospital’s oncology department and on familiar terms with Gerry, the head porter. ‘Morning, handsome,’ Gerry would say as he approached. ‘How are we today?’‘A darn sight better than you,’ Walter would say, muttering behind his bandages.Walter had undergone regular surgery for over three years and during that time they’d snipped, sliced and cut away so many facial lesions he was almost unrecognisable.‘Your usual seat, sir?’ Gerry would ask, smiling as he pushed Walter’s wheelchair.‘Do I have...

40 likes 42 comments 42
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Running on Fumes

Submitted to Contest #216

“Dad, are we there yet?” Emily’s voice is soft and sweet as she asks the same question again. I don’t mind, though. “Not yet, sweetie.” Through the rear-view mirror, I can see her resign herself and shift uncomfortably. It seems like just yesterday when I held her in my arms, an innocent baby. A lot can change in eight years. The past few months haven't been easy on any of us, but as her father, I’ve tried my best to shelter her from the worst of it. It was all so sudden that I didn’t even have time to process it. My head hurts as ...

37 likes 22 comments 22
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The Identity Thief

Submitted to Contest #216

“This is the hunter's badge of glory - That he protects and tends his quarry, - Hunts with honor, as is due - And through the beast to God is true.”--Jagergmeister, by Oskar von Riesenthal (taken from the back of a Jagermeister bottle, half-full).* * *I am left to imagine the circumstances of a most unusual case, which has the Grimlace’s handiwork written all over it. The Grimlace has stolen another victim’s visage and memories, leaving her a withered amnesiac. She was wandering ghostlike amid the streets of Frankfurt with no idea ...

34 likes 11 comments 11
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I'm Free

Submitted to Contest #216

I stepped off the ferry to Crete and kissed the ground. I looked around me. All I could see was the azure water and white houses, snaking up the hills. I raised my hands and yelled “I’m free!” Some of the disembarking passengers turned and smiled, some shook their heads. My divorce was final, the kids were off my dime and financially independent and I had quit my job. Thirty years working for the same corporation was enough. The drudgery of doing their accounting year after year had been too much. The board pressured me to find ways to escap...

24 likes 11 comments 11
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The Lilac Painting of A Silent Yearning.

Submitted to Contest #216

 You know wants and needs at a certain point aren't that far apart. I wonder what makes your wants become needs. Don’t know, well somehow you do. One can wonder; are we like sailors bound to the relentless pull of the moon to the tide, luring towards the spiked rocks of our obsessions. Would we surrender our soul for these cravings? I wouldn’t mind just a couple times; someone would look this way. But in the night sky there are countless stars to behold, each with its own unique flicker. “Tristen!!” Sorina exclaimed.“Mm?”“I’m ...

21 likes 4 comments 4
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Are You Alright

Submitted to Contest #216

“Are you alright?”“Yeah, how long was I out for?”‘A minute or so. Do you think you should see a doctor?”“Nah! I’m fine.”January 12th 2018“Why are there so many Canadian flags around these days, eh?” I wondered aloud as we drove by Walmart one day.“It’s so the Americans could know they are in Canada,” answered my wife, tongue in cheek. “And certain other people…”“Yeah, but this one is huge!”“Well, you can’t bring guns into Canada. You can’t bring your police speed trap detectors. When you leave, you must leave your weed behind. Saves a lot of...

21 likes 9 comments 9
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A Day on the River

Submitted to Contest #216

From the edge of her vision, Julie saw a flash of yellow, a blur of rocks. The little boy giggled as his feet slipped, splashing into the raging river. Loosened leaves and dirt caught in the current, flew like clouds before a storm, then gone.Julie yanked him up by his shirt, “Billy, watch yourself!” Her heart raced, pounding a drumbeat of what could have been. Just five years old, he laughed, kicked his feet, thinking he was indestructible. The rapids of the American river roared wild, white foam horses thrashing just below h...

21 likes 22 comments 22
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Alteration

Submitted to Contest #216

Some Time and Somewhere, something agreed that tonight was important. Eleanor was grateful, at least, for that sliver of Knowing. It was the only thing driving her from wall to wall as she shuffled hastily, gathering a bottle from here, a jar from there, preparing. The mice scampered along with Eleanor from corner to corner, their tattling a rhythmic hum that made the cobwebs dance. The single pane windows on the front of the house rattled their response to the thunderclaps outside, each louder and more vibrative than the last. Beneath ...

19 likes 14 comments 14
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Cambions' Prey

Submitted to Contest #216

Through the dark woods, they fled, moonlight flickering like dying embers in the hope of racing hearts. Branches reached out like gnarled, skeletal fingers, tearing at their clothes, scratching their flesh as they sprinted, gasping for breath. The relentless pursuit of survival echoed in their ears, each ragged breath drawing them closer to the dilapidated cabin that loomed ahead, a sanctuary and a prison in one. Their footfalls pounded on the damp earth, almost in unison, the forest floor a mosaic of fallen leaves and tangled roots threat...

19 likes 2 comments 2
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Jessica this story contains sensitive material regarding mental health

Submitted to Contest #216

Jessica heard the mewing of her tiny daughter. She rushed to the nursery. "Mommy's here," Jessica crooned. She lifted the little bundle out of the crib. "You're soaking wet!" Jessica began the ritual of changing everything from the inside out. She was used to the mewing turning into howling as the hunger pangs took over. Wet clothes disposed of, the baby was rewrapped in cozy clean blankets and the main event of nursing began. Jessica reached for the nursing pillow and got cozy. The rocking chair had been a gift from her parents. Oh, she mis...

19 likes 4 comments 4
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The Case of Melancholy

Submitted to Contest #216

Her head was pounding and she couldn’t focus. All she could hear at first was the sound of a loose board slapping against something not too far from her. She couldn’t smell anything and felt as if her nose had been bleeding at some point in time, as her upper lip felt crusty and sore as if it were pulling at her skin. Her eyes where open but everything was completely dark. She could tell something was around her head to cover them and felt a rough tug of her hair if she moved her head to much. She fought to find her memory of how she got ...

18 likes 9 comments 9
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The Flight of Annabelle Jennings

Submitted to Contest #216

This story contains sexual and physical violence. My name is Annabelle Jennings. Seventy years ago, I witnessed the atrocity that began on May 1, 1866, on the south side of Memphis, Tennessee. Momma, Daddy, and I lived in a small two room house with a little front porch. Back then we all lived in little homes like that. We had our own schools and churches in the area, separate from the white folks. Everybody in the neighborhood gathered round their porches sharing good times and good food while us kids ran amuck. There was a lot of talk at...

18 likes 2 comments 2
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