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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

Sad Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Do you ever need to break your own heart? We see you. Grab a tub of ice cream or a box of tissues and settle down with some of the best, really sad short stories to make you cry.

Sad Short Stories – Page 2

Braids & Whiskers

Weekly Contest #367

Nestled in the crook of her belly, that’s my favourite place to be. Ruby mirrors my yawn from the other side of the duvet, and I sense a deep, delicious slumber approaching us both. I know it’s going to be a good one tonight because Dad’s working the night shift, and when Dad’s working the night shift, all bets are off and Ruby and I are allowed to sleep in the bed with Mama. It’s the only time we’re allowed because Dad says I snore too loudly. Sometimes, I’m in the depths of a dream and then I wake with a fright, only to find myself bundled...

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I Tainted You

Weekly Contest #367

By the time I clambered up the ladder, the first ray of sunshine ambushed me. I shielded my eyes. It was a mistake to have prematurely removed the blinds so early in the morning when I’d vehemently cursed the architect responsible for this haphazard window since primary school. And that was only because I almost fell on my head that one time. Floorboards creaked as I wandered to the shattered window. Birds warbled along to the rustling of trees. Then and there, the gears of my artistic mind whirred at the appeal of this view. Using this shat...

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A Story from the Helion Peace Corps

Weekly Contest #367

Sentient life, wherever it is found, forms a number of similar structures. There are the obvious ones which force physical marks on their worlds. These are webs of infrastructure or clusters of industry. There are also more subtle social structures which imprint empathy on their species' such as comforting clans, or the swarms of civilization.  The most persistent of these, despite all odds and across all planets, are peace corps. Wherever a creature's consciousness develops into what we recognize as sentience it becomes bound by some p...

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Blurring

Weekly Contest #367

December 31st, 11:38 p.m.The door clicks shut and they're alone.Tonight, Yuki is wearing his favourite yellow scarf. Akira said it looked good on him and now he wears it every day even though it's bright enough to see from space. It's a nightlight in the darkness and Yuki keeps fidgeting with it, casting shifting shadows over Akira's heart.Akira sits on the edge of their bed, hands resting on either side of them. The mattress is firm, but softer than it was at the beginning of the year. Yuki joins them a few centimetres away and it barely si...

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What would happen if i turned around right now/what would happen if i got up and just went/what would happen when-if-why-how-with-who/no/okay/just shut up/

Weekly Contest #367

When we’re in the water, I hear nothing. Finally my brain is turned off. I’m looking and seeing and feeling and floating and absolutely nothing is registering. It goes through me like light in a window pane and I am the light. Currents guide me towards rocks towering all around, slanting inwards like a canyon but outlined by deep green: a forest reaching down to offer a hand. I let my feet slip from mossy boulders and follow the flow; a sea otter taking an afternoon dip. Where the sun warms the waters is where I stop, hugging a protruding st...

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The Patient

Weekly Contest #367

CW: Suicide and abuseThe ambulance arrived promptly at the hospital, and the crew hurried to unload the stretcher. They carefully transferred the semi-conscious patient to the emergency department, where two nurses sprang into action. Siobhan, the experienced ER nurse, approached with a calm yet attentive demeanor and asked, “What do we have, John?”John, the senior ambulance officer, reported, “Laila Akbari, a 28-year-old woman, attempted suicide by ingesting three packs of Paracetamol about two hours ago.”Upon hearing John’s report, Tina, t...

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For the Better

Weekly Contest #367

That afternoon I enjoyed the short drive home along the Tyrrhenian coast. Our family’s Fiat Topolino was a creaky, rusty little luxury - the best we could afford. The rough steering wheel under my hands and the smell of oil and old upholstery didn’t quite go with my suit and fashionable hat. Even though I’d bought them on sale, I thought I looked quite stylish.The window was open, the waves flashed between the rocks, and the warm air smelled of an adventurous life and new hopes.“Bring me some new clients, Bruno,” my boss had said before the ...

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The Apartment Upstairs

Weekly Contest #367

Sensitive Themes: Suicide / Depression / Mental Health / Self-Harm (somewhat metaphorical) The Apartment Upstairs ***  Calloused hands clutch the shovel like an anchor, digging the blade into the cracks of the linoleum tiles. My back aches from being hunched over for so long. I look longingly over at my bed, the blankets barely visible through the open door. It’s almost midnight, and I have work at nine in the morning. My fingers itch to drop the shovel, crawl into bed and get the good night’s sleep that I know my body ne...

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The War is Over.

Weekly Contest #367

This story contains domestic abuse and death. The War is OverI can’t remember who said it, but someone once claimed the choices we make define us. If that’s true, then I’m a monster.         I loved my mum and respected my dad, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve hated Friday nights. Mum worked in the sweet factory when she met Dad. He was the works engineer. The man who fixed everything. He fixed my mum good and proper. She was five months pregnant when they married, but then it takes two to...

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And So, She Runs

Weekly Contest #367

“Wake up!”Verena flinches as her eyes snap open to find Mosa’s face hovering inches from hers. The dying firelight from the hearth casting long shadows across their cramped bedroom, highlighting Mosa’s sharp features against her cool, obsidian skin.“You have to leave. Now!” Mosa hisses, her breath warm against Verena’s face.Still clinging to her dreams, Verena opens her mouth to protest, but Mosa is already moving, scrambling around their two narrow cots wedged between overcrowded bookshelves lined with tomes and scrolls on witchcraft.Verena...

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Timmy

Weekly Contest #367

Annie met the love of her life on a stormy January afternoon. She woke up early to a clap of thunder so strong it shook the large window in her studio apartment. Turning over, she tried falling back asleep; but the thunder continued every few minutes, and soon she resigned to get up and make a cup of coffee. She walked to work in the pouring rain, loving every second of the inclement weather. By the time she arrived at her desk her socks were wet and her thick wool sweater was heavily soaked, but she didn’t mind. Rain was always so much fun....

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The Split

Weekly Contest #367

CW: Suicide, gore           At some point, as I wandered the winding trail that makes up my life, I made a decision—the way we all have, and maybe one like all the rest—that kicked me out of the path I’d scored for myself in the dirt. Maybe one day a red light came on a little too fast and I had to stomp on the pedal a little harder than I have before. Maybe I fished a grocery receipt out of my cupholder and realized that the money was always supposed to end up there anyway. Maybe it was...

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Little Things

Weekly Contest #367

I glance down at my two-month-old son and see you living in his eyes—big, almond-shaped, brown, tilting at the corners the way yours did just before you lit up a room with a smile. I lift my baby up and fold him against my chest, tucking the soft weight of him under my chin. I press my face into the duck-fluff of his hair and speak soft things, telling him about the person who would have loved him more than anyone else on earth. He coos against my collarbone, content. I realize the comfort is mostly for me.The apartment is quiet except ...

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60 seconds

Weekly Contest #367

60 Seconds60 Seconds0In the vacuum of waiting, with the hissing of my blood pumping, with shallow breaths, thoughts of my mother... a seashell once placed to my ear. A tear fell.Then the smell reached me. I couldn't place it. I didn't know it yet. A damp air of rotten pennies. It had no beginning. It would have no end.I watched my tear fall to the ground, a swirl of rain and mud. I closed my eyes. Beside me, a stream cut through the green, its silence broken by diamonds of sunlight. My dog jumped the stream. I placed a boot into the muddy ba...

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TOO LATE FOR MAYBES

Weekly Contest #367

It was two in the morning. An empty bottle of Jack had been flung across the room, where it collided with the wall, fracturing into pieces. Cigarette smoke clouded the dingy motel room and empty packs littered the floor. It's fine, she thought; I won't be staying here much longer anyway. Another puff of smoke curled from her lips as she threw the used cigarette from her mouth and onto the floor to join a dozen more. Pictures were scattered across the bed, memories that hurt enough to keep her from undoing her decision. Her trembling fingers ...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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