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Include a scene in which a pet damages something that is precious to its owner.

Posted in Short Story on Oct 31, 2025

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✍️ 26 stories

Whiskers & Witchcraft

Submitted to Contest #327

Whiskers & WitchcraftA heart-warming tale inspired by Egyptian mythology______________________________________________________The neon lights of Seoul glowed against the calm silver of the moon resulting in a serene, strangely mysterious kind of peace, just like the ginger cat resting in Elara’s lap. “The neon lights of Earth complement the moonlight above… a peaceful contradiction—just like you, my cutie.” She stroked the cat’s fur, smiling. Beside her lay a thick hardback, Whiskers and Witchcraft, the book her best friend Riley, who ra...

69 likes 62 comments 62
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Familiar

Submitted to Contest #327

There is a point past weeping, Dr. Christensen thought to himself, when the pain numbs. He peered at his face in the back of a spoon. The distorted image magnified the broken capillaries under his eyes. From medical school, he knew his lacrimal glands were responsible for his bloodshot eyes and dilated pupils. He maneuvered the spoon to view the extent of his puffy red face, caused mainly by the salt from his tears. The spoon’s reflection revealed the monster he felt he had become. No wonder his wife had left. No wonder his son had been take...

20 likes 5 comments 5
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Stay Afloat with Me

Submitted to Contest #327

‘The dream is often occupied with apparently very silly details, thus producing an impression of absurdity […] But when at last we penetrate to its real meaning, we find ourselves deep in the dreamer’s secrets and discover with astonishment that an apparently quite senseless dream is in the highest degree significant, and that in reality it speaks only of important and serious matters.’ – C. G. Jung. *** It’s a recurrent dream. The setting can change, but there’s always a body of water. This time it’s cold, cristalline mountain water, collec...

20 likes 17 comments 17
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She finally had him

Submitted to Contest #327

Evan sat in the corner like the toys he no longer wanted to play with when he was a child, as the sunray was passing through Luna's White fur and hitting the pieces of broken porcelain box scattered across the floor.The thing Evan wanted to keep safe the most after his beloved wife’s death — her beautiful handmade jewelry box — was now nothing but broken porcelain pieces, shining like passionate river water at sunset. The beautiful emerald-colored box that had once been too mishandled and stubborn to be properly opened, was never going to cl...

15 likes 5 comments 5
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Amy, the Boy with a Girl’s Name

Submitted to Contest #327

It was a cold winter when I first met Amy—a boy cat with a girl’s name. “Amy” means beloved, but he didn’t look loved at all. He was curled up in a small cage, shivering, his gray fur matted and stiff with dirt. The tip of his tail was broken, crusted with dried blood, and he bared his teeth when I leaned closer, a low hiss vibrating from his throat. The man selling him said he was “too naughty” and “liked to break things,” as if that excused the wounds.I had never kept a pet before. I’d just come from a small fishing town and was renting a ...

13 likes 3 comments 3
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Bruno the Honey-Eyed Friend

Submitted to Contest #327

CW: GriefBruno, The Honey-Eyed Friend By : Yanet Trujillo Bruno came into our lives like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds on a gray, weary day. From the very first moment we saw him, we knew there was something extraordinary about him. He wasn’t just a playful puppy—there was something deeper, something almost human in the way he looked at us. His eyes, warm and golden like honey, seemed to carry a thousand unspoken words. There was tenderness in them, and intelligence, and a quiet wisdom that made us feel understood without say...

13 likes 5 comments 5
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Squirrel

Submitted to Contest #327

TW: grief following the death of a loved one Hazel stood at the foggy window with her coffee and looked out at the old rocker on the porch. This morning, for the first time ever, it was empty. The cabin was silent; nothing was playing on the radio, nobody was whistling along, and nothing was sizzling on the stove. Her heart felt like porcelain—cold, heavy, and fragile. Jack had lived fully and died peacefully. She could take comfort in that. But Hazel hadn’t lived without him in over fifty years. And she couldn’t remember how. “I ...

11 likes 1 comment 1
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The Witch's Unfamiliar Familiar

Submitted to Contest #327

Darnell sleeps curled atop a worn stool before the crackling fire, his body a small circle of warmth and contentment. His deep, rumbling purr fills the room, whiskers twitching as he dreams. His fur is midnight black, except for the small white cross emblazoned on his head, a mark that has always unsettled his mistress. Aisling Elmina is a witch, from a long line of witches, and such symbols seldom appear by accident. For fifteen years, Aisling and Darnell have made a suitable pair. From the time he was a kitten, Darnell has been more th...

11 likes 0 comments 0
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What Love Leaves Behind

Submitted to Contest #327

CW: Mental health, suicide What does it mean to be happy by yourself? Daniel asked himself this question as he poured a tall Guinness out of a bottle in his studio apartment. Feeble sunlight penetrated the indigo darkness through Venetian blinds in thin, slanted rays. They illuminated an unmade bed that was the sore blight in an otherwise organized place. The dining table was clear, the bookshelf organized. The closet was neat and arranged by color. Yet anyone who knew Daniel would not find this surprising. In times of great distress, Daniel...

10 likes 2 comments 2
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Rescue Dog

Submitted to Contest #327

CW: Physical violence, abuse, explicit sexual phrases It was only 11 am and already she had broken 6 rules. She had spoken to the woman who lived on a boat. (1. Thou shalt stay away from unnatural women.) The Book called these single women ‘wild’ but they had begun to wear the word like a badge of honour. Cathy was curious - why did these irrational women always have tattoos inked into their skin? 2: Thou shalt not speak to branded women. Of course she had not branded herself. It was a punishable offence. But she dreamt of displaying a smal...

10 likes 0 comments 0
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The Good Father

Submitted to Contest #327

It was just a book, he told himself. Not even a good one at that. Jean had hated every second of it. Yet out of his whole shelf it was the one he reached for the most. While the other books watched and collected dust, rotting and yellowing, Jean only cared for one. It was just a book, he told himself, when he found the torn pieces of paper strewn across the floor. Not even a good one at that.He remembered the terrible stupidity of the book, his memory was not the problem. He remembered hating the way the author spoke, the way she told the st...

10 likes 2 comments 2
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Feline Fine

Submitted to Contest #327

You really want to hear my story? That makes you a little different. Most don’t. I am an uncomfortable truth and they wish I’d keep my mouth shut. There’s a cancer in our society. It allows bad people to prosper. They thrive on our silence and the way we subdue the truth in favour of an easy life. I will tell you my story. It’s a little different each time. It grows you see. Like people living a good life grow. It’s not that I don’t like cats. Not really. I like the theory of them. But in practice it all goes wrong. My eyes water and I start...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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The Black Cat

Submitted to Contest #327

My grandmother had always adored black cats. In a world full of people who insisted they were symbols of misfortune, she preached otherwise. "The Egyptians were onto something with their worship of the black cat all those years ago," she would say whenever the topic was brought up. I never understood her love for them, partly because I was more of a dog person, and I was allergic to cats. But for her 80th birthday, my mother and I drove across the Bay Area to pick up a black kitten that had just been posted on an adoption site the night b...

9 likes 1 comment 1
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What The Tail Wagged

Submitted to Contest #327

Tiny bits of lint and dust floated in the Sunday morning sunlight, while George, my black German Shepherd, played among them. His big paws made a soft thumping sound on my freshly cleaned wooden floor as he chased a fly only he could see. I smiled from the kitchen, watching the pure, simple happiness on his furry face, his tongue lolling out in a doggy grin.My coffee was almost ready, and its rich, earthy smell began to fill our small house, mixing with the scent of lemon polish from my earlier cleaning.On the window shelf, where the light w...

9 likes 0 comments 0
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Highest Selling Piece

Submitted to Contest #327

The tips of my fingers have grown raw from hours of painting. My art exhibit was three days away—and I… Well, I had procrastinated for months. Despite basically locking myself in my apartment away from all the wonderful delicious distractions New York had to offer, I was still short two paintings. My manager, Lacey, wanted twelve original pieces ready to sell to my small, but growing group of collectors. Had my younger self known I’d be living in my dream city, with my dream job, when I was only sketching in my notebook at one point, she’d b...

9 likes 1 comment 1
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