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Write a story in which the first and last sentences are exactly the same.

Posted in Short Story on Nov 21, 2025

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✍️ 72 stories

Dying in the Rian

Submitted to Contest #330

The cacophony of rain panging off the thin metal of the helmet was maddening. Even as he drifted off into the oblivion of his mind, the noise refused to wrench itself from his ears. The thought of simply pulling it off came back to him every now and then, only to be reminded he was powerless. The heavy, wooden pillory he carried around his neck also trapped his hands, and he slowly remembered it was forced onto his head and locked in place.'Where am I?' he thought as he once again regained some lucidity. It was dark. He shifted his weight an...

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After Midnight at Marty’s All-Night Diner

Submitted to Contest #330

The weird ones always come in after midnight.That’s what my boss told me on my first day at Marty’s All-Night Diner. And he was right. But weird doesn’t always mean bad. I’ve worked the dead eye shift here at the diner for about six months now and while we definitely have some real doozies come in overnight, I can honestly say that most are just plain folks trying to get by like the rest of us. Some work the late shifts; some just like to be out at night. Less people to deal with, one of my regulars once told me. But that’s not my experience...

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It all started one summer day on the blacktop of an old school

Submitted to Contest #330

It all started one summer day on the blacktop of an old school. The neighborhood kids were short a player, and my older brother waved me in. I didn’t have cleats, just duct‑taped shoes. My glove was too small, my heart too big. The second batter cracked one deep. I chased it down, caught it off the bounce, and without thinking, I threw that white ball like it was born in my hand. It sailed over the backstop, into a yard across the street. The older kids froze. My brother didn’t speak. He never really did.That was the first time I real...

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A Goodbye That Became a Hello

Submitted to Contest #330

The old train station creaked and groaned as I stepped onto the platform, the worn wooden boards beneath my feet a testament to the countless hellos and goodbyes that had unfolded here. It felt strange to return to the place where my life had shifted so many times—where people left, where people arrived, where I stayed still for too long.My suitcase wheels clicked behind me as I walked. With every roll, something inside me loosened, like I was shedding the weight of years I had carried on my back.The station was almost empty now. Dust floate...

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Swirling the Dregs

Submitted to Contest #330

She said, “I like my coffee like I like my men. Late at night and a little depressed.” He was intrigued and moved one stool closer to her at the bar. He’d never seen anyone drinking black coffee with the intensity she had been doing all night. It had to be hot. The bartender continually made fresh pots. This chick didn’t wince or flinch, and although there was sugar on the bar, she hadn’t touched her spoon. “So you’re a purist?” he asked. “You could say that.” “What makes coffee depressed?” "What makes anyone depressed?” she asked. “You tell...

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Heat and Teeth

Submitted to Contest #330

The skin on my neck felt hot and sticky. The smell of teen body odor and years of lingering lunches all melded together to create one giant wall of public high school funk. The overload hit me hard, and I blacked out for a second in the school hallway. People think southern California can’t get hot because it’s close to the ocean, but it can. We’re not all ocean breezeway adjacent, so when the Santa Ana winds come in, and you’re surrounded by asphalt, concrete and poverty, it gets hot. And it’s even hotter in overcrowded, underfunded city sc...

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For My Next Trick, I need a Volunteer

Submitted to Contest #330

“For my next trick. I will need a volunteer.” The magician asked as he walked across the stage. The spotlight focused on the oblong box at centerstage. Smiling, he looked out past the bright spotlight to see if anyone have volunteered, but he did not see a single person with their hand up. “I just need one person to have the courage to come forward.” He spoke into his microphone. Behind him was his poster set on a tripod, “Mekong the Magnificent.” “Chris, we have someone.” Mandy the stage manager signaled to him. “Ah, we have a volunteer.” ...

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Becky, My Granddaughter

Submitted to Contest #330

[Content Warning: This story addresses themes of grief, intergenerational regret, and medical ignorance. It includes discussions of anger issues and guilt related to elderly care and loss.] I wish I weren’t so ignorant.The eleven-year-old me had bawled her eyes out, but the thought was only fully formed now, years later. Back then, reading the side effects of my grandmother’s drugs—blood spotting the eyes, dizziness, vomiting—had knocked the air from my lungs.I clutched the medicine pamphlet, my small hands trembling.Why didn’t my uncle and...

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I saw It On The News (aka: Dinner Date at Dairy Queen) by Holden Wennekers

Submitted to Contest #330

CW: Physical violence, gore or abuse, Sexual violence I saw it on the news. Mortified me to my core. I think the last time I saw her was just three weeks prior.My God, if I’d had known.We met at the Dairy Queen we used to lunch at back in middle school. I must have waited in the parking lot in the cold about an hour past the time she said she’d show. She arrived in a taxi cab. She didn’t look good. I’d heard she’d had her license taken away months prior, and got around in cabs. She gave me a big hug, a desperate hug, like she hadn’t been hug...

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Lair of The Abyss OR "Are we done yet? My feet really hurt."

Submitted to Contest #330

"Oh, you can't be serious. I am the star of this production, you know." "Cut!" Matte Lorrie—as is clearly stated in his email signature—Assistant Product Development Manager at Razr Wyre Studios and erstwhile director of the above referenced production, the soon to be released Lair of The Abyss, second installment in the Abyssian Chronicles series of video games, turned to his co-worker and assistant for the day, Lissa Andrelio, and sighed. "Lissa, I can't. I mean I just can't." "Matte, I get it," she said, holding her iPad close to her ches...

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Hello, Little One

Submitted to Contest #330

Sensitive content: pregnancy / child loss. "Hello, Little One!" My husband is speaking to my belly. The positive pregnancy test is sitting just off to the side. I couldn't believe it! I told him straight away. We had been trying for a while but with no luck. I had almost given up after the last negative test. I had thought that when the time comes, I would announce it to my husband in some elaborate, clever way. But screw that! Screw waiting! Why wait to celebrate when we are now a family of 3?! Straight away he shared my excitement, and...

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Virtuous

Submitted to Contest #330

I’ll always remember what they told me; Patience is a virtue. I heard that phrase a thousand times as a kid. A thousand more growing up. I’ve heard it enough throughout my life that I could parrot it in my sleep. But, what they failed to tell me, was patience breeds complacency. And complacency makes you accommodating. I tried setting boundaries at first. I did. That first week, I even tried to confront them about that smell. Agonizingly sweet, like overripe pears muddled with overturned earth. I swore it followed me – clung to me even – li...

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Home for the Holidays

Submitted to Contest #330

"Where did Tim go?" Mark asked."I think he wanted to put his leftovers in his car," I said.Everyone was home on break. We called and texted one another to get plans together for the evening. There was an old Italian restaurant that was known for having a duck-pin bowling alley in its basement. They were also known for having meatballs that were about a third of a pound apiece. The name of the game was to order spaghetti with the meatball and marinara and then smash the meatball or slice it or whatever. Everyone had a method for tackling the ...

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Winter Light

Submitted to Contest #330

This is the place where I feel most alive. There is something about the way the clear sky turns deep blue against the fiercely reflective snow that lifts my spirit – a world away from the winter gloom of deepest Surrey. Home has its own attractions, but I feel energised by the Austrian Alps, and the prospect of new off-piste adventures around Zell am See and beyond. I’ve been coming here since I was four with my parents, always to the same apartment. My dad is an architect who designed the block and negotiated four weeks a year for his firm...

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The Lantern at Blackthorn Inn

Submitted to Contest #330

We could have ignored the lantern, and kept riding.It swung outside the Blackthorn Inn, creaking softly in the rain. The glass panes glowed a warm, inviting yellow that looked almost obscene against the bruised-purple sky. Beneath it was a painted sign, a thorny branch with a black bird, swaying on rusted hooks.Apollo, the midnight-black stallion, stamped and tossed his head, flanks twitching.“I know,” Sir Korax murmured, patting his neck. “Every bone in me says ‘bad idea’ too.”The road behind them was a smear of mud between dark trees. The ...

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