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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

Contemporary Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. All the newest modern day stories to thrill and inspire, all in one place.

Contemporary Short Stories – Page 7

Seine River

Weekly Contest #366

It was April when I hit the breaking point. I looked him in the eye when I told him he is impossible to work for. I’m typically one to keep my two cents to myself when I’m getting paid enough but a person can only handle so much bullshit. It was long since time to leave. The stress was too much. It had taken over my life, coming home with me everyday. Keep the money, it ain’t worth it.I didn’t think about the next step but here I was taking it. I knew I’d need to find a new job. Consider this bridge gladly burned but there are still bills to...

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A Life Changing Decision

Weekly Contest #366

A Life-Changing Decision.Early one morning, Julie sat in her locked bedroom in the small unit she shared with Mary, her flatmate. She needed some privacy, and while Mary always knocked on the door before entering, Julie wanted to ensure she didn’t have to respond to the knock. She knew that Mary would understand that the locked door meant alone time for Julie, and she would allow this to happen without hesitation. When sharing a home, it is important for both residents to respect each other’s me-time, and this had always been the case since ...

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The Errors Were Waiting

Weekly Contest #366

I should have read the signs sooner. I should have trusted the unease that had been tightening inside me long before it had a name. It gathered beneath my ribs whenever the office lights hummed overhead, and the stale smell of burnt coffee drifted through the corridor. Her empty desk sat too neatly in the corner, its laminate surface scrubbed to a faint chemical shine, arranged with the precision of something already erased. Even before anyone spoke the decision aloud, the air around that desk had changed. It felt polished too clean, cool wi...

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Finding Faith

Weekly Contest #366

I've meant to do this for years. I have to do it, now. Otherwise I'll hate myself forever. It's been a dead weight on me all my life, and it makes me sick; I have to remove it, somehow.After my mother passed, my family-my sister Doreen and I, that was all-had title to the house, as the next of kin. It had the old furniture in it from when we were kids-the table in the living room with the cotton doily on it, the big old pump organ with the family bible on it, the the stereo console where Dad played his LPs, the upright piano with Dad's LPs s...

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Born in Space: Tales of a Former Galactic Ranger

Winner of Weekly Contest #366 🏆

Life feels different when you grow up on a station. The low gravity grants a unique freedom. It felt like even the laws of physics couldn't hold me down. You never have to worry about falling. One good leap and you're touching the ceiling. One strong push and you're flying into a bookshelf. My mother didn't consider that last one a positive. She considered it the opposite, actually. That's a mother for you. More worried about scraped elbows than the ability to soar. I didn't have time to worry about that. There was an expanse of stars behin...

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Algorithm

Weekly Contest #366

Algorithm My parents made one major mistake the day I was born. It wasn't the kind that ends up in newspapers or requires an apology tour. Nobody lost a fortune or hired a lawyer. At the time, it seemed perfectly reasonable. They named me Al. Not Alan. Not Albert. Not Alvin. Just Al. Two letters. An A and an L. They wanted something simple, easy to remember, a name nobody would mispronounce or turn into a ridiculous nickname. They succeeded. Unfortunately, they did not account for humanity someday inventing artificial intelligence and collec...

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The Eighth Chair

Weekly Contest #366

I don’t remember when my mother started setting eight places for Sunday lunch, which is annoying because every family story deserves a clean beginning and ours has the manners of a goat in a vegetable garden. It wanders in where it pleases, eats the important details, and leaves you staring at whatever remains. There were seven of us: Mother, Auntie Sarah, Uncle Paul, my two brothers, my younger sister, and me. Yet every Sunday, before the beans had softened and before Auntie Sarah declared church long enough to qualify as employment, Mother...

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I Know a Thing

Weekly Contest #366

I was a friend to both of them, which is why it pained me so much when I had to tell Van that Brie was cheating. I was close with each of them, hanging out in the laundry room with him and offering advice on how to get the whites even whiter, because I know a thing or six about doing laundry. Or meeting up with her at the farmer’s market down in Santa Monica and telling her which stalls give you a little extra if you act cute.  I know a thing or eight about acting cute. Trust me. When I first realized I had to tell Van that Brie was tak...

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Essence

Weekly Contest #366

I'm flattered that you were worried for me, really. Did you honestly think I was 'taken'? I can see you shaking your head right now. Or maybe your hands are shaking because you thought I was dead. Ha! Surprise! I'm not leaving anytime soon. Please, don't feel guilty for leaving me in that burning laboratory. I don't hold that against you at all. You thought that it was the only way to get rid of an abomination, and I agreed. But now I've had some time to think about it. Not only did what we make not hurt people, but it helped them. Take that...

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The Widow

Weekly Contest #366

I kept waiting for him to open his eyes. By the time we reached the hospital, James had stopped responding. His breathing came in shallow, uneven pulls, each one farther apart than the last. The paramedics wheeled him through the emergency entrance while I followed a step behind, trying to keep pace without getting in anyone's way. The emergency physician took one look at him before turning to me. "How long has he had the cancer?" "Almost a year," I answered. "Stage IV duodenal cancer with metastases. He stopped tolerating solid food a few m...

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A Woman Scorned

Weekly Contest #366

“Starting again is just so…” Jane buried her head in her hands and cried. The tears made her feel better. The tears were good. “Painful?” Emily ventured. Jane nodded her head with determined energy as though attempting to rid herself of her tears. Emily winced at the violence of the emotions assailing her friend and rubbed her back reassuringly. “You shouldn’t have to start again,” Emily sighed, it’s just so unfair, “not after everything that’s happened.” “I thought we were…” Jane wailed again. “I know, I know,” Emily said as she attempted t...

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The Inventory of Missing Things

Weekly Contest #366

The Inventory of Missing ThingsPeople think theft begins with desire. It doesn't. It begins with accounting.I know because for thirty-one years I worked in the Department of Municipal Archives, where nothing was ever stolen. Things simply became "unlocatable." A ledger misplaced. A map transferred. A deed awaiting verification. Entire streets disappeared into filing errors without anyone raising their voice.You would be amazed what civilisation is willing to lose if the paperwork looks tidy.I retired on a Tuesday. They gave me a clock engrav...

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A Surprise Party

Weekly Contest #366

A Surprise Party Greg had told Millie that he was arranging a little ‘surprise’ for her on the first Saturday in August, in the evening, so not to make any arrangements. Not that Millie usually made arrangements nowadays. Saturday nights were usually slumped-in-front-of-the-TV-pigging-out-nights. Greg and Millie had been an item for a couple of years and it was almost two years ago that they moved from their separate flats in Leeds to live together in this rented house in a village on the outskirts. In that time Millie had seen less and les...

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The Discretion

Weekly Contest #366

I want to be clear from the start. I loved Hatsumi like a daughter. Everything I did, I did because I believed in her. This is the only worthwhile version of the story, and I am the only one left to tell it.The studio was on the third floor of a building near Yoyogi Park, above a dry cleaner that never seemed to have customers, only steam. Six days a week I climbed those stairs. I chose that studio because the light came in low and gold in the late afternoon, the kind of light that makes even a mediocre player sound like something more. Hats...

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Peddling the Truth

Weekly Contest #366

Prompt: Write a story with an unreliable narrator or character. Peddling the Truth A crowd is gathering on the city street in front of a pop-up kiosk. A street vendor is screeching in a high-pitched voice. I watched and listened as he droned on… “Hear ye hear ye, have I got a product for you! Do you suffer from a rumbly tummy? Has the food you’ve eaten made you feel crummy? Are you expelling burps and feeling nauseous? Other remedies list side effects warning you to be cautious. Full of bloating gas that is stuck in the midsection before yo...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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