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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

Bedtime Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Everybody loves a story before bed, and our collection of bedtime short stories has got you covered.

Bedtime Short Stories – Page 3

King Whisker's Blessings

Karen Ciesielski

Weekly Contest #361

King Whisker’s BlessingsBy Karen Ciesielski-MottaBig Little glanced at Little Big and laughed. His deep baritone voice carried his laugh out across the water of the pond. Though his old eyes were dimmed of sight they crinkled in delight at the small child looking up at him from his seat in the small fishing skiff. Little Big grinned back with the toothless charm of every seven year old. Their smiles were matched, each missing the same teeth. Like looking in a mirror of time, each reflected a past, present and future image of the other. As th...

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Fine With Me

Karly Moller

Weekly Contest #361

Summer was over, and so were we. Most wildflowers in the field were nothing but dead heads. It was nearly drought conditions. The heat had been burning that summer. Suffocating. All-consuming. The tempers were hot, too. Matilde had read in the paper that there had been more than an average amount of domestic situations and murders in her county, in the newspaper. A local psychiatrist blamed the heat, and they all discussed the physiological changes, which seemed to make sense. She stopped and thought, “Have I been angrier?” She felt she had ...

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BOOK ONE — Winter Lamb: Before the Last Grain of sand

Weekly Contest #361

BOOK ONE — Winter Lamb: Before the Last Grain of sandBOOK ONE — Winter Lamb Before the Last Grain fallsWinter settled over the barn on a long cold night, quieting the fields, the rafters, and every small creature tucked safely inside. A thin line of snow rested against the wooden walls. Wind sighed through the cracks. Near the fire, the Winter Lamb lay curled in the straw, his thick wool fluffed around him, but even that warmth could not reach the sadness tucked deep inside his heart. He was not jumping, kicking straw, nudging barrels, or ta...

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The Women with their Beautiful Headdresses.

Tucker Sloan

Weekly Contest #360

TRIGGER WARNING- The following short story contains Strong Violence, and what could be considered Hate Crimes, as well as some Sexual Content. The Women with their Beautiful Headdresses. Part 1- The Board’s Great Round Table. As Chappell Roan’s, “Good Luck, Babe!” came on the speaker- the members of the Board all took to their seats at the round table. “The sin of lust. The sin of touch! You’re convicted.” And with that, Claudia slammed her gavel, and in came the crane. Lesbianism was forbidden, and Claudette had been caught in the act ...

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Next

Weekly Contest #360

Next Death was dying. Had he expected some fanfare? No, he thought to himself, ceremony was for the living. Still, after all these centuries, it all just seemed…underwhelming. He stared down at his slim fingers poking out from his black cloak. They felt numb. Wiggling them slowly, his eyes widened slightly as the linoleum floor came more into focus. What seemed at first to be an optical illusion became the realization that his hand was indeed becoming transparent. He exhaled a soft grunt and clenched his fist tightly, nodding his head as his...

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Trying to survive

Jennifer Braveheart

Weekly Contest #360

I live close to Palm Springs California in a town called Indio; it was 121 degrees yesterday as my head hit the pillow to sleep.It was the end of July, and we will have to endure this god forsaken heat until September when our desert weather will begin to cool off. I was thinking about what to do tomorrow as I drifted off to sleep. The dream was floating, lazily along the recesses of my brain. It was rolling gently along the banks of my memory. It was fluttering as softly as butterfly wings delicately tapping on the windows of my soul tryin...

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THE WINTER LAMB: Born in the Cold

Weekly Contest #360

⭐ CHAPTER ONE — Born in the Cold The valley lay frozen under a sky the color of iron, the kind of cold that made even the mountains seem brittle. Snow covered everything—fields, fences, the old cedar tree where the flock huddled together for warmth. Winter had settled deep into the land, and nothing moved unless it had to.The shepherd moved slowly through the drifts, his boots sinking into the powder with each step. His lantern cast a small circle of gold around him, but beyond that circle, the world was swallowed by darkness. The flock slep...

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The Collectors Aprentice.

Ron Sewell

Weekly Contest #359

The Collectors Apprentice “A Journey Beyond the Veil” Caroline’s heart raced as Richard, her boss, steered his beast of a BMW at high speed around a bend. “Richard, please slow down.” He glared at her, his eyes sunken from late nights and difficult meetings, aware that if the government contract failed, bankruptcy loomed. “Shut up. This job’s worth two million quid to the company. Without it, we’re up shit creek. I’m over my head in debt. Those morons I owe money to are not polite people, and you want me to be lat...

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I don't believe in Ghosts

Weekly Contest #359

"I'm not lying!" Pamela's voice chimed over the din of 200 girls enjoying refectory recess. "I know what I heard. Koi! Koi! Koi! And I clutched myself! Let me tell you… I closed my eyes so tight!" "This madam Koi koi story is making the rounds among Jss3 and Jss2 girls," Ada sighed and spooned another mouthful of eba and okro soup. I watched them groggily, too exhausted to join the chat. I just wanted to see my bed, preferably after a nice shower. "When she passed by me, I felt the chill! She's a ghost!" Pamela resembled a crazed woman with...

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The Burning City

Weekly Contest #359

From a certain angle in the sky, the world seems to stretch on forever, a blanket of mazes, of shapes and colors that blur together in a haze of imprecision. Upon closer inspection, this haze reveals itself to be a network of buildings spread across a vast expanse of land, clustered citadels and castles of stone, and houses, and streets of rough hewn rock, or in the poorer places, dirt. The majority of these settlements are surrounded by walls, for the inhabitants of these places are prone to war and greed, and have grown wary of the ambitio...

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The Raft Idea

Mark Butler

Weekly Contest #359

The Raft Idea Jason Maxwell and his younger sister, Melody, watched a wall of grey clouds darken the distant mountains. Hunkered in their tent, eleven-year old Jason announced, “It’s a super storm, a real soaker. The river’ll flood, and we’ll have to take down the doors to build rafts so we don’t drown.” Melody giggled, but even at seven, she thought her brother was making things sound worse than they really were. Still, she liked camping in the living room with him, with the tent’s see-through blue walls, and the floor softened by blankets ...

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The Three-Goat Problem

Sindhuja Govindaraju

Weekly Contest #358

“‘Nobody believed in me. That was their first mistake.’ That’s the kind of sob story you want isn’t it? Pfffft.” Hic, followed by a juicy burp. “Actually, the mistake everyone made was believing in me. I’m a loser!” Bridge-Troll drew a big fat zero in the air with a corpulent, green finger. “People trusted me to do this! And I failed! What an idiot, amiright!” Hic. Bridge-Troll got off his much-too-tall bar stool and wobbly walked closer to the disinterested bartender. He snapped his fingers clumsily at her. “You think I’m a fool don’t you! ...

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Stand by me

Diana Cilian

Weekly Contest #357

I always try to tell human mama important things. For example, when the food bowl is only half full, that is important. When there is a suspicious bird outside the window, that is very important. When I have been alone in a room for at least three minutes, that is the most important thing of all. Human mama usually answers me. She says things like, “Really?” and “Oh dear,” and “You just ate.” I don’t always understand what she means, but I like the sound of her voice. It makes me feel warm, like the stripy blanket I used to sleep on when I w...

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The Bag

Karly Moller

Weekly Contest #357

Maura and Jamal came to Peter’s Diner nearly every Friday, very late at night. There was a waitress who would put aside slices of cherry pie for them. Maura was 36 with auburn hair and a green sweater dress. Jamal was wearing his literal uniform. Khakis and the polo shirts of the computer repair service for whom he worked.Peter’s diner sold some pretty typical American greasy-spoon food. They decided it was a habit they would pick up after distancing themselves from a friendly couple that did too much cocaine and kept trying to sleep with th...

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The Tied Woman

Karly Moller

Weekly Contest #356

A woman is tied to a tree. She catches the scent of cannabis and kerosene on the breeze. Peeking underneath the red handkerchief around her eyes, she sees three SUVs crawling down the opposite hillside towards the compound. She passed out for what must have been a few hours. She then awoke to this, and the weather changed to hot and humid. It felt as though nightfall was coming, and rain.The man at the airport had told her nothing but lies. It seemed as if she had been mistaken for someone else, or someone realized her husband was worth exto...

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