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Include the line “I remember…” or “I forget…” in your story.

Posted in Short Story on Nov 7, 2025

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✍️ 99 stories

A Matter of Time

Winner of Contest #328 🏆

Hey. My Mum’s dying. Wanna date me? Yeah, it’s not one I’d start with either. So I haven’t. Mum told me, anyway, not to put my life on hold just because she’s ill. She said Tam, the ravens of memory fly around the universe, they don’t roost in the tower. She’s always coming out with stuff like that. Mama looked at her, said she hoped the ravens of memory would still be interested in Sunday dinner. Mama carried me, gave birth to me, and neither of us deal in myths. Although, after sixteen years of Mum’s bedtime chats, daily affirmations and h...

83 likes 76 comments 76
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Can You Touch Your Forehead With Your Foot?

Submitted to Contest #328

Too bad they won't sacrifice women. Alora wouldn't hesitate. She's not afraid of heights. Why does it have to be so high? You'd think the Ladder God would have been more considerate and shortened the distance between heaven and the planet with a shorter ladder. I asked Alora for ideas to overcome my newly found fear. "I thought about your dilemma, and you're just going to have to get over it," Alora said. "That's your brilliant idea? Why didn't I think of that?" "Probably because you're human." Alora doesn't get sarcasm. She continued, "You'...

48 likes 32 comments 32
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Death is a Warm Blanket

Submitted to Contest #328

“I remember you.” I froze, the words holding me in place. “No one remembers me.” I whispered softly. He stepped closer, the ground squelching under his feet. Cool rain misted overhead, casting a gray shadow over the old willow we stood under. “I do.” His voice sincere. His brown eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled, kind and comforting. Tears welled in my eyes. Could it be true? It had been so long since someone had heard me. I brushed my pale hands over my dress, fiddling with the delicate skirt. “Who are you?” I asked. “A friend.” He ...

30 likes 19 comments 19
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Authentics

Shortlisted for Contest #328 ⭐️

Dad, I remembered something I thought I’d share with you. I forgot plenty, these past ten years or so, however long it’s been. I forget all that I let myself forget. Like… I forgot what it used to be like when you’d take us to those reenactments, those fairs in the middle of nowhere. Pile us all into the Volvo (the safest car out there, you’d say), Match always getting carsick in the middle seat (so she can look ahead, you’d say), and puking into empty bagel bags or whatever bag or cup we could find in the chaos of her announcement (“ithinki...

28 likes 28 comments 28
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Gold Digger

Submitted to Contest #328

Gold Digger “Help me with these bodies before you sit down to eat. Will you, please?” Sheriff Claiborne begged Nellie-Rae's 'Uncle' Ray. She still couldn't remember her slain parents ever mentioning any uncle from her mother's side of the family. He claimed he visited ten years ago when she was six-years-old. Still recollection remained fuzzy especially in her grief stricken state finding her parents murdered in cold blood.“She's a lousy cook anyway, Sheriff. Charred the meat to be unrecognizable and no potatoes or cornbread sides.”The men b...

27 likes 17 comments 17
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To remember who I am.

Submitted to Contest #328

Present Day Jess sat at her kitchen table at 2 AM, surrounded by notebooks. Seventeen of them. Three years' worth. Every day documented. Every memory preserved. She'd started keeping them after the accident. The doctor had said memory loss was normal with traumatic brain injury. Write things down, he'd told her. It helps. So she had. Every entry began the same way: "I remember..." It was supposed to make her feel secure. Grounded. Like she was holding onto herself. She opened the oldest journal. October 2022. Found the entry she was looking ...

25 likes 29 comments 29
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The Man at the Window

Submitted to Contest #328

People who choose a booth by the front window are looking for something. Often it’s an old friend rolling in at the bus station across the street; they got here early, traffic was lighter than they expected. Sometimes it’s a full face of sun, eyes closed in ecstasy, or gazing into the nearly pupilless eyes of their loved one across the table, glowing blue or green or brown in the brilliance. They might be searching for fellowship, or at least proof that it exists, in the hustling crowds only a foot away through insulating glass. The tables i...

18 likes 10 comments 10
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Nostalgia

Submitted to Contest #328

Nostalgia is derived from the joining of two Greek words: νόστος (nóstos), meaning "to return home," and ἄλγος (álgos), meaning "pain." The combined meaning ‘the pain of returning home’. The door opens, the sidewalk bustling with people eager to get home, to their families, their pets, to anything. She has nothing waiting for her, but she longs to be inside her apartment just the same. The comfort of her couch, her central heating warming her bones, the idea brings a smile to her face as she takes her first step out into the street. She is j...

17 likes 10 comments 10
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Mummified Noir

Submitted to Contest #328

Look, mistakes were made, I’m not denying that.My desire for information was now heavily outweighed by my desire to get out of the basement’s oppressive stench before whatever was infesting the nylon rug started colonizing my shoes. The client, Mark Thompson, squeezed his forehead like he was trying to extract the lingering alcohol. “Was I drunk last night?”Did the day end in Y? “I’m sure the headache will subside with time,” I sighed. “Now, I’ve been going over your case—”“My brother’s missing.”“Yes.” I studied the unfocused gaze. Maybe ano...

16 likes 21 comments 21
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Smart Home

Submitted to Contest #328

James stumbled into the kitchen, scratching his left arse cheek and yawning.“Don't even think about it, Jim.”His hand stopped halfway to the kettle. “Think about what?”“Putting the kettle on,” the voice said. “I told you yesterday, but you didn't listen.”“It's too bloody early for your crap. I just need a cup of tea to get me going.”“Well, maybe you should've bought some milk then.”“What?”“I told you yesterday that we were out. I told you twice.”“FUCK!”James left the room, muttering to himself. The fridge sighed.“You did tell him twice. I re...

14 likes 4 comments 4
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I Wish My Teacher Knew

Submitted to Contest #328

CW: Mental health, Physical violence, gore or abuse I Wish My Teacher Knew (A story in memory of my mother) I hadn’t planned for that morning to change anything. No revelations, tears, or heaviness that would cling to my chest long after the day was over. Just another lesson - one of those ordinary, predictable ones where I count the minutes until the bell rings. My desk was the same as always: chalk dust, open notebooks, a cold cup of coffee, and a polished black sign with my name on it written with white letters. How strange did it sound t...

12 likes 10 comments 10
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Mum's Favorite

Submitted to Contest #328

WARNING: Subject of Dementia William has always been cold. I never liked playing chess with him. He always had to win. I beat him once, and he refused to speak to me for a week. I forget if we ever played again after that.He loved history, not only the bits about tactics and tanks, but also the snippets about the first sewage systems and false accusations pinned on French-Austrian Queens and Konrad Adenauer's favorite sports. I remember he used to wear glasses, but now he only wears contacts which make his face appear too thin. But he thinks...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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LOTUS SLIPPER

Submitted to Contest #328

I remember reading a story about binding the feet because the reader was never asked her hand in marriage, and following the story made her realize that a man doesn’t define her. It was late one night when I came across the story—just a small article in an old anthology I found at a thrift store. The title was “The Legend of the Lotus Slipper.” I opened it with idle curiosity, thinking it was a fairytale. Instead, I found history dressed as horror, beauty bound by pain.The Story Within the StoryLegend has it that a lotus or lily foot slipper...

12 likes 5 comments 5
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A Walk Along the Lake Shore

Submitted to Contest #328

R.I.P. Andy... Waves lapped on the sandy shore, a warm breeze caressing the skin of the man sitting along side it, his feet touched by the very tip of each wave. A sea bird screeched, its wings flapping keeping it aloft. A fish leaped out of the water, reaching for an insect. He stared at his hands, the tendons moving under his skin as he waggled his fingers. He looked up at the bird, watching it glide on the air, when he spotted another person, walking towards him. He craned his neck, and could see footprints stretching back to the horizon....

11 likes 9 comments 9
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My Sister Hope

Submitted to Contest #328

Sensitive Content Warning: Death of loved ones. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” A woman's voice says, jolting me back into consciousness. I don't know how I ended up in this room. It’s small and dark, despite the two large windows looking over a grove of trees. I’m sitting on a couch, facing a woman who has all of her attention focused on me. She is middle-aged with kind eyes. Clearly a therapist, as her many achievements and degrees state behind her, framed on the wall. She looks sad. I wonder if she’s sad for me, or if she’s unable...

10 likes 4 comments 4
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