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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

Black Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Discover the best new stories by Black authors, written to themed prompts and curated by our judges.

Black Short Stories – Page 2

Kai's Honesty Tour

Weekly Contest #359

“Thanks for reaching out. Have a Happy New Year.” Kai read the text and responded back, “Thanks, same to you!”. On January 1, 2020, Kai made the goal of being more honest. She was a quiet soul, a “yes woman”, someone who didn’t know how to use the word “no”. However this year, she decided to be more honest with how she felt and if she would have known what 2020 would bring, she may have changed her mind. This year showed people’s true colors and required her to use her honesty more than she wanted. Some relationships were mended and others e...

12 likes 1 comment 1
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From Bondage to Freedom

Weekly Contest #358

The sun bore down on Ben’s cap, unleashing the life bringing death ray directly on his straw hat to bear. His tomato shoulders and arms supporting his overalls were not spared the fate that his scalp was.The sun and him has had a tumultuous relationship since he became and remained this height years ago now. “I’m home, Rachel,” he called into the shabby modest house. His calloused hands set his hat on the nail by the door, and grabbed a steaming cup of coffee off of the counter in the kitchen next to the morning paper. He brought them both ...

9 likes 0 comments 0
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Christopher's Unlikely Redemption

Weekly Contest #358

Christopher’s Unlikely Redemption* In the little bit of time left of the workday, I was trying to finish my daily notes on the therapy sessions I had had with my inmate clients when there was a knock on the door. I stood up hurriedly and pulled the door open. A compact Black man with an intense expression stood in the hallway. “I hear you doing a rational emotive therapy group,” he said. I nodded. “I like to be a part of that.” I hesitated briefly. The group I was starting was already full. “What dormitory are you in?” I asked. “Jac...

8 likes 0 comments 0
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Sole

Weekly Contest #357

Mexico knew life and death even before the reign of the Olmecs. Those that didn’t kill, couldn’t hope to survive, so the tread of the eighteen wheeler devoured the stripes of the road 16, chasing the setting sun. The radio played country music, some semblance of warmth for the driver hundreds of miles from his home. He pulled his cap up to eye his snoring copilot through the cabin mirror,.The smell of rancid piss emanated from the shared gallon jugs and bottles of urine littered around. Sharon took his blue eyes from the jugs to sleeping tra...

13 likes 2 comments 2
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New Country For Old Hustlers

Weekly Contest #355

Contains racist language, police abuse, and corrupt law enforcement Every other month, Sergeant Cross and Lieutenant Guy held a “mandatory diversity” meeting at Guy’s property outside El Paso, Texas. Neither man ever explained the nature of these meetings to their wives. They sat on opposite ends of a leather couch, a six-pack of Coors Light between them, rotating the same three films: Do the Right Thing, Malcolm X, and BlacKkKlansman. Guy was convinced this was better than writing Cross up, and would actually convert him from his bigotry. E...

4 likes 0 comments 0
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The Calligrapher

Weekly Contest #353

Nora hated Brighton Mall. She wanted to go home as soon as she stepped on the grounds. She had moved her shop from her home at the request of her granddaughter Mina, which was a thinly veiled command. “You’ll find better opportunities here,” Mina had promised. Get out of your house so I can sell it, is what Nora heard. The last time Mina had visited the house, she’d stayed less than fifteen minutes. She, in a tailored navy suit and her microlocs pulled into a tight bun, had struggled to yank her heels from the muddy crevices of the cobblesto...

13 likes 2 comments 2
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What Survives Being Measured

Weekly Contest #353

The ground had forgotten how to give anything back. It held its shape when she pressed her heel down.The town called it a drought, like naming it made it simple. Like the word made it manageable, something they could point at instead of fear.On the news, they talked about reservoir levels and water restrictions. Conservation measures. Cloud seeding flights that kept getting scheduled and rescheduled like prayers no one expected to be answered. The sky had stopped responding.Inside her house, the air felt older than outside. Stale, like it ha...

10 likes 1 comment 1
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Foley's Follies

Weekly Contest #353

Pre-AI-flashes of light emanate from the half dozen compact discs suspended by ribbons of multiple lengths and colors hanging from different branches of the venerable pepper tree in front of Loana Myers’ suburban house in Heritage Park, a predominantly Hispanic enclave southeast of decayed and decaying downtown Lost Angels.As the CDs of Loana’s favorite contemporary grind music artists—the homicidal Biggest Small Man, the imprisoned Zulu Tercets, and the billion-streaming Buddhist Nation duo Dukkha by Design—spin and sway in the stultifying,...

4 likes 0 comments 0
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Foley's Follies

Weekly Contest #353

Pre-AI-flashes of light emanate from the half dozen compact discs suspended by ribbons of multiple lengths and colors hanging from different branches of the venerable pepper tree in front of Loana Myers’ suburban house in Heritage Park, a predominantly Hispanic enclave southeast of decayed and decaying downtown Lost Angels.As the CDs of Loana’s favorite contemporary grind music artists—the homicidal Biggest Small Man, the imprisoned Zulu Tercets, and the billion-streaming Buddhist Nation duo Dukkha by Design—spin and sway in the stultifying,...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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Not Yet

Weekly Contest #353

In the Edo and Yoruba traditional archives, a god rules the deep ocean floor. Not by will, though, or by want. Olodumare the Ultimate spoke, and that was all it took, chained the god to the bottom to keep the waters from swallowing the earth whole. Bestowed the name ‘Olokun’, it holds everything that sinks.Olokun forgets nothingNot yet.­­­___***___ “Ah… Finally, an inquisitive one,” the voice whispered, with a tinge of delight laced in between. Not one of youthful exuberance, but of old, aged fine wine.Let me tell you how our world began, si...

44 likes 49 comments 49
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Trails of a Garden Past

Weekly Contest #353

I still remember the first year Grandma decided she couldn't garden anymore. In truth, the decision had been about four years overdue, but a shock to the family nonetheless. Back then her mind had still been fairly sharp, a wealth of gardening knowledge waiting to be passed to the next grandchild who actually gave a shit. We all took too long, so now I have to do things the hard way. I stand outside Grandma’s near-empty house, taking note of the ‘For Sale’ sign at the edge of the yard. Mom and the rest of the family had agreed there was no r...

16 likes 1 comment 1
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Flow the Names the Sea Remembers

Weekly Contest #353

Children born after the Deluge laughed when elders spoke of roads that stayed still. They ran across pontoons and solar decks as if the world had always shifted underfoot, as if homes had always needed ballast. At dawn, Port Sereine rose and fell with the tide. At night, its lanterns trembled like a constellation that had sunk.Delphine Moïse sometimes dreamed of sidewalks and avenues that didn’t sway. In her sleep, she stood at bus stops knee-deep in bougainvillea shade. She heard rain striking roofs fastened to earth. She awoke in her room ...

10 likes 1 comment 1
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Color Thief

Weekly Contest #352

Mid-day. Soldier of Rovasanvic, named Arcstat woke up in a world where there's nothing to fight or protect. He got up and went to the washroom. His sister called him to pray. He told his sister to start cooking. So he can finish paying respects to his mother who died last year due to a flu, and then join his sister to help her cook.A man named Ruvik came to Rovasanvic to see his loved one. He had a horrible past. He's already traumatized by his abusive father and his older brother. Ruvik's only support was his lover. He came all the way from...

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The Day I Opened My Eyes… and Everything Was Still Black

Weekly Contest #352

They say that when I was born, I opened my eyes and saw nothing.Black.That’s how they tell it, like it was a tragedy, like something inside me had failed before I even had the chance to become anything. I grew up listening to the quiet pauses in their voices, the softened tone people use when they don’t know how to speak without sounding sorry. They never said it directly, but I could feel it in the air around me—this idea that my world was smaller than theirs.But no one ever asked me what it felt like to live in it.Because if they had… they...

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Colored Central

Weekly Contest #352

May 2001, Central High School Tuscaloosa, Alabama, AP Stats "You should definitely stay put," said Janiyah. "Why would you change and then risk getting the wrong door?" Mr. Nade had assigned the Monty Hall problem for homework the night before and his small class of three juniors, Janiyah, Amina and Thomas, were passionately arguing if it was mathematically correct to stay on their selected door or change to the unopened door. "Because you probably got it wrong in the first place." said Amina dismissively. "What is that supposed to mean?" re...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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