Menu

More apps built by Reedsy

Assemble a team of professionals

The writing app for authors

Writing courses, events and memberships

Get your book reviewed

Weekly writing prompts and contests

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog
Featured stories
Activity feed

Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of american short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

American Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Looking for great American short stories you can read for free? Whether they’re written by American authors, set in the USA, or just have that ever-elusive quality of Americana, this is the page you’re looking for.

American Short Stories – Page 9

No other options

Weekly Contest #358

"My daughter, Cory the dancer!" I tried forcing a smile paired with excitement, but it felt so hard to say I nearly choked. "Ugh! What will my friends think when they hear about that!" The mirror reflected back at me a disgusted face. "She comes from such an upscale family! My mother's a surgeon, one of the best in the city of Richmond, my father is a doctor and one of the founders of the Corriander memorial hospital. I am a psychiatrist, her dad's a science professor at one of the leading colleges in the city. Both his parents are lawyers, ...

4 likes 3 comments 3
Read story

The Oleander Surprise

Weekly Contest #358

The Oleander Surprise Nobody believed in me. That was their first mistake. Their second mistake was not to believe my words, to take my threat as a joke. I couldn’t be serious, right? No way would I murder my husband. Not Becky Graham, goody two-shoes, daughter of a Church of the Nazarene preacher. Baptized at ten, sanctified at sixteen, safely married at eighteen, mother of twin girls at twenty-two. What they didn’t know, what they couldn’t see, was the fear I lived through daily. Living with Jim was like walking a t...

15 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The Palm of the Mountain

Weekly Contest #358

The trail at South Mountain State Park wound upward through a cathedral of poplar and oak, the canopy filtering the July sun into coins of gold that scattered across the packed earth. Marcus Hale walked three paces ahead of his wife, Elena, the way he always did on the steep sections — not out of rudeness, but because the narrow switchbacks demanded single file, and because Marcus liked to be the one to spot the copperheads first. He'd grown up in these foothills, had scrambled over every ridge between Morganton and the park boundary before ...

18 likes 3 comments 3
Read story

The Reformed Reaper

Weekly Contest #358

August 15, 1986Rob stepped off the airplane and stood at the top of the boarding stairs to take in the night sky of his hometown. He took a long, deep breath and gazed up at the stars glistening in the clear sapphire sky, what a perfect summer evening. He purposely waited for the other passengers to exit the aircraft before him. Taking his time and leisurely descending to the tarmac was important to him. Tonight was the first night of the rest of his life. He made it. Not many people would understand what he’d just gone through, and he was ...

14 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Voices

Weekly Contest #358

Heather was late for work. A lengthy after-school nap on the family room couch had ruined her chances to be a punctual Target employee. Without provocation, she gently awoke to Oprah’s voice on the TV. “He is hanging you out the window, and burning you with cigarettes, and tying you up. You know, God doesn’t have anything to do with that, not one thing.” Yikes. She casually looked at the clock: 4:45. Double yikes! She jumped to her feet. Her manager, in his tight red polo and man perfume, was sure to shake his big head and say, “Heather, Hea...

13 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Mr. PINK

Weekly Contest #358

“Mr. PINK”ETTA KITYou know, even if the Statue of Liberty was painted pink, you’d still recognize it.So, when I spotted Miss Etta Kit standing on the corner in her shabby pink satin suit, even after 25 years, there was no question, I was looking at my drag queen maven.South Beach, Miami -1997The drag clubs on the strip were bouncing and Etta was the queen. Me? I was a pasty faced runaway, working as a bus boy at The Golden Palm. I met Etta on my first day at the club. Julio, the bartender reamed me out for not filling up the ice bins. He end...

10 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

I Can Do This

Weekly Contest #358

Prompt: Write a story about someone who shouldn’t have made it out…but did. I Can Do This I am an embedded news reporter for the Military Times giving a firsthand personal account of the early days of fighting experienced by Private First-Class H. T. Shirker. Private Shirker covered his face with his hands. All around him he heard the loud noise of grenades and gunfire. He was terrified as he crouched in the dirt. He was alone out in the open field. His comrades were out of sight hiding in the shallow trenched dirt. There was literally n...

5 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Anchors without Water

Weekly Contest #358

A snow flurry rides the crest of a silent brown sea, perpetuating the feeling of loneliness that sprouts from the weeds, grass, and dirt that cut through the white sky, the part of the canvas without a bird or brushstroke that could have lifted the dead feeling of winter as a gust of wind exposes the bone structure of the land: a surface that will lose its innocence regardless of whether it is touched.In a dream, there might have been a fence or power line beyond the hills, as if we had a hand in shaping what is seldom seen. From the porch o...

5 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Cadence and the Marine - She broke training to save her person

Weekly Contest #357

Cadence and The Marine Cadence of Moonstone, a PTSD Dog who broke the rules to save her person.As told to Samantha MarisWritten by Sam Maris with Cadence’s ApprovalTW: Gunfire, mentions of sexual assault, suicide and killing My ears feel the air shift a nanosecond before the sound of the violent CRACK of a high-powered round reaches me. A pressure snap that causes the nerves in my ears to stand at attention. Instinct takes over, and I launch myself at Taylor, knocking her to the tile floor and covering her body with mine.Another CRACK, as mo...

18 likes 1 comment 1
Read story

Stay

Weekly Contest #357

*****This story contains elements of animal abuse and death. She’ll come. That’s one of the things I love about Becca. She always comes back for me. Loyal, steady — my person from the very beginning. The first time we met, I knew we belonged to each other. I think she knew it too. Some connections happen instantly, like you’ve known someone forever before you even learn their smell. Life changed around us plenty of times, but we stayed the same. Wherever Becca went, I went. She’ll expect me to be right where Derek left me, so I’ll wait here ...

13 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The Floor Where We Stayed

Weekly Contest #357

The couch is so lovely in the morning sun. It hits the cushions in that warm, perfect way that makes my fur feel like it’s glowing. The house is quiet, unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that makes my ears perk even though nothing is wrong. Everyone is gone. Everyone is out. And when she’s home, I’m never allowed on the couch. Never. She always says I’m too big, that I take up too much space in this small house. I don’t think I’m that big, but everyone says I am. I’m Brutus, a rottweiler, 110 pounds of muscle and love and curiosity. I know I...

9 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Martha and Me Have This Disagreement

Weekly Contest #357

Martha and me, we’re having this argument. It’s about the threshold of age, when life does things to you, instead of you doing things to life. Martha says we’ve crossed that threshold, that we’re too old now to do anything of meaning. She said we’re like an engine block run out of oil. “Waiting for the pistons to seize.” I disagree. I say we’ve got plenty to do, and that sitting here, getting old and fat, is a waste of our human potential.“Who you calling fat?” Martha says.“I’m not calling anyone fat,” I tell her, but she’s stopped listening...

13 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The Chosen

Weekly Contest #357

Yusef sat still. The clock registered a full minute. She was agitated and squirmy. She did not know herself well, and she was high on marijuana. The state had just passed legislation that made it legal. Her body was active and aware, and she had no paranoia that she sometimes experienced in her day-to-day life. She thought about being present. She was always present and remembered the old adage that home is where the heart is. She could journey a million miles away to return without leaving her seat, and so this fine day she was not aware of...

12 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

In the Red

Weekly Contest #357

She had a love/hate relationship with Black and White. Her contrast against their extremes was a blessing and a curse. But this was worse. This was Grey, neither one nor the other and not itself at all. Her name was Corinne, and she had been Red all her life. She was Cayenne, Crimson, and Scotch Bonnet. She was Fire Engine and Brimstone, but she was never that compromise between Black and White because compromise is crocheted blankets, recliners, canned beans, and gelatin desserts. Compromise is comfortable and palatable, and a mirror that ...

10 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The Moose Versus the Cowboy

Weekly Contest #357

Cornelius approached his rented Plymouth Voyager van, stuffed with suitcases and duffle bags. Two men occupied the middle and back rows, each contorted in compliance with the narrow benched. The dank smell of bad breath and farts hit him like a brick upon opening the door. “Time to wake up, ladies!” he alerted his road buddies in his deep, but deliberate voice. The two stirred in their respective seats. Growls and groans of pain ensued as the result of nagging injuries and the cramped conditions in the van. Out of the v...

8 likes 0 comments 0
Read story
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. All for free.