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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

150+ Friendship Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Some would say that tales of friendship are some of the most moving of all. From childhood friends to brand new buds, you'll find a story to warm your heart here.

Friendship Short Stories – Page 3 of 10

Michael

Submitted to Contest #335

Anthony walked into Mace before attending a BLM protest. Unfortunately, it was his Mace, and he had done it on purpose. So when he ran into the crowd, he was not acting, though that is why he was there and what he did for a living. He thought that if others believed the police had Maced him, the exposure would be suitable for his career. Give him the benefits that no timely Instagram post would ever produce. These antics were years before he started dating Daria, a woman he genuinely loved, but others tolerated because she was an integral pa...

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The Last Janitor

Submitted to Contest #335

“Son,” the CFO said with grandfatherly exhaustion, “In recognition of your service to Henry and Sons, I made the executive decision to offer you this bonus.” He handed Mallory charge a card, and to his surprise this one was warm. “Back to your mother, son. Be good to her. And…” the CFO’s brow knit, before he rifled through his desk and pulled out a faded, wrinkled, blue kepi. “Tyler begged me to get this at Gettysburg.” The CFO handed it to him, and continued to ramble until he waved Mallory out. The Econoline-styled hallw...

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A Serendipitous Encounter

Submitted to Contest #335

Rain tapped gently on the windows of the small downtown coffee shop, turning the city outside into a blur of shimmering lights and muted colors. Inside, the air was warm and fragrant, full of the comforting scent of roasted beans and the soft hum of quiet conversation. At a corner table, Emma stirred her cappuccino absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting as she traced the rim of her cup, lost in the pages of a well-worn novel. The bell above the door jingled, and a man in a navy coat stepped inside, shaking off his umbrella. His eyes scanned t...

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Forgiving Yourself Can Be the Hardest Part

Submitted to Contest #335

Forgiving Yourself Can Be the Hardest Part “How long has this been eating away at you?” Sister Mary Bonaventure asked. She sat across the table from me, a thickly loaded corned beef on rye grasped delicately among her fingers. Mary has such beautiful fingers – she works as a freelance hand model. She’s worn Cartier rings for full-page ads in posh magazines for the super-rich. She’s sported glitzy Swiss watches on her wrist, shown off any number of new nail polishes, skin exfoliating cleansers, and hand moisturizing creams. All the jewelry sh...

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A Senior's Journey Of Finding Love In The Digital Age

Submitted to Contest #335

Imagine a senior person who, when they were in school, there were no computers or cell phones, and was trying to keep up and learn new technology. People were quietly thinking that this person had an intellectual disability. And yet this same person had run three successful businesses without a computer or cell phone. It's not that this person didn't want to learn something new, and wanted to stay in the past. The world is changing by the minute, and if we don't change with it, we become extinct like a dinosaur. But there are a few things wi...

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Ready Or Not?

Submitted to Contest #335

It was a difficult decision, best made away from prying eyes. The discussion had lasted for an hour to this point, and they were running out of time. People passed the room unaware. Some passersby would say, plainly, they didn’t care. Others would’ve offered unsolicited opinions given the chance - or vicious remarks - to cut down the confidence of the discussants therein. The building was full of true aficionados - or, at least, people working their way there.“Don’t put your hands on hips.”“Then, don’t cross your arms. It means you’re not op...

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The Boy With Familiar Eyes

Submitted to Contest #335

Nova was a gentle creative soul. Nova led with her heart and her imagination.She had always felt things deeply, even before she knew how to name them. Her inner worldwas vast and alive, filled with color, feeling, memory, and quiet knowing. She trusted thatinner world more than anything outside of herself. It was where she felt most at home.One moonlit night, Nova set out into the cosmos.She didn’t have a map.She didn’t have a destination.She didn’t even have a question she needed answered.She simply felt the pull to wander.So she listened.S...

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The Saviour’s Tax: The Final Breath

Submitted to Contest #335

CW: Mental health, substance abuse I. The Stranger in the Hallway They don’t tell you that when a White Knight saves you, he might eventually send you a bill. They don’t warn you that some rescuers only pull you out of the fire so they can keep you in their own private cage. The first lesson I learned—the one I am still swallowing like glass—is this: the price of "free" help is often your soul.I stand in the dim, grey light of the hallway, leaning heavily on my cane. The air in this house is thick, smelling of old wood, stagnant laundry, an...

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Wake, Wake

Submitted to Contest #334

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, before the happily ever after, there was a crow, and a dove. The winter that year had been bitterly cold, and a dense blanket of white snow draped and coiled over the yews and such conifers in such long rivulets it was as if a child had lain them there, steepled them, before she might roll over, and get to sleep. It was here that, though the dove very much regretted the cold and skipping her yearly migration, she cozied amongst the sunken bark, and fell asleep. “Wake, wake!” The dove startled to. ...

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Threadbare Brothers

Submitted to Contest #335

Icy wind blasted Jax’s face when he cracked the door open. He squinted through the blizzard and shoved the entry closed with his shoulder. He wasn’t going anywhere. Jax blew into his cupped hands to ward off the cold. Rotting wood from the walls and ceiling released a foul smell. The long abandoned single-room cabin carried an atmosphere of death and lives long forgotten. making his emptiness more profound. Dane silently pried up broken floorboards with his dagger, tossing the pieces into the half-collapsed brick stove. The High King once to...

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Action Park (Summer ’85) by Holden Wennekers

Submitted to Contest #334

This is dedicated to the ones who lost their lives at Action Park. Fun should never come at the cost of human life. Entry #1 (07/30/85):We’re going to Action Park: tomorrow. I don’t wanna go. Never been to Action Park. Heard terrible things about it. Billy Parwell broke his neck at Action Park, on the Alpine Slide. Charlie, Ben, Stanley: they’ve all been to the Park. Showed me the scars they all got on the Cannonball Loop. Their backs, arms, legs all ripped up, little red scratchings of a hundred winged bats. “The slide did that to you?” I...

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In a Land Far, Far Away

Submitted to Contest #334

In a Land Far, Far Away... “Brr! It's so terribly cold. Snow is falling, and it's almost dark. But shops are open late here in Vail so we'll get checked in at the Lodge then hit some shops to find some skiing attire like I promised you, Meredith.”“So glad we met up again collecting our gear at the carousel, Whitney. I'm registered at the Lodge, also, so I can ride the same shuttle. Don't want to go shopping with you but am willing to meet you for hot chocolate at the Gorsuch Ski Cafe. I've heard its the best place for cocoa.”“You're correct...

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Hagwon Hero

Submitted to Contest #335

At 38, Jeong-min decided to enroll in an adult English class at a hagwon in downtown Daegu, South Korea. “A hagwon is like a for-profit cram school for anything. English. Piano. Basketball. Chinese. Martial arts. Cheaper than a babysitter,” is how his instructor from Oklahoma explained it. Work. Home. Work. Home. Work. Home. That was Jeong-min’s life for the past 15 years after serving in the military, a compulsory service for all able-bodied Korean men. His hagwon of choice specialized in teaching adults over 30. Many Koreans studied Engli...

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Clown Merry and the Guardian of the Final Forest

Submitted to Contest #334

Once upon a time, in the far land of Felicia, lived a Clown Merry. He was a big and chubby baboon, always scampering around town in his pompous suit, a bundle of balloons bobbing in his wake. He had something in store for everyone he met: a joke for a tired worker, a coin for a sleepy hobo, a candy for a child, a story for its grandma, and a balloon for—well, everyone, for who didn’t love balloons?“I wish I were so happy,” said the barber kangaroo as Merry left his shop one day, his red wig neatly trimmed around his prominent ears. “How love...

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The Wolf

Submitted to Contest #334

The WolfOnce upon a time — grrrr — he hated these stories. But sitting around the open fire in the cosy cottage, surrounded by the family of choice he loved, he found he didn’t mind them at all — especially when the children asked for the forest story.“Tell us again,” they begged. “Tell us about the forest. Tell us when you met Grandma and Mama — tell us, tell us.”The old male wolf remembered the time when the weather had begun to change, when the forest floor was turning wet and slippery, and the first snowflakes were not far away. Some for...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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