56 votes

Creative short story writing contest—prize for winner! (2025-01-07)

There are, in my extremely well-informed and unbiased opinion, not enough discussions about creative writing here on Tildes. Let’s change that. If this gets any meaningful amount of interest, I’ll make it a recurring thing (hence the date in the title—look at me, being all forward-thinking)! 😸

Your goal: Write a creative short story based on the prompt provided and post it in this thread.
Deadline: Per ISO 8601, 2025-01-21T23:59:59-05:00. Here’s a link to decode that mess for non-robots. Two-weeks-ish from the posting of this topic, basically.
Prize: A $20 Proton code! I’m sure all of you insufferable delightful privacy nerds advocates already know what Proton is, but here’s a link for completeness’s sake. It’s already purchased, so you don’t have to worry about any sudden impoverishment robbing you of that sweet, sweet encryption.

Your prompt: Write about someone who finds out their everyday routine has been secretly impactful to strangers in ways they never imagined.

I’m not one much for rules, so there aren’t many:

  1. It must be creative writing. Creative fiction and creative non-fiction are both allowed, but if you’re going the second route, ensure you have a strong understanding of what creative non-fiction “feels” like.
  2. There aren’t any hard length limits, but the internet tells me that “short story,” as a term, tends to be defined as 1,000–7,500 words. Because I always uncritically believe whatever the first search result I read on the internet tells me, you should probably aim for that range or it may count as a soft demerit. Also, only one submission per person.
  3. The winner will be decided entirely by my personal whims, not comment votes. If I let it be decided by votes, the first commenter would basically auto-win, so we’re committing the greatest internet faux pas: relying on subjective judgment. 🙀 That having been said, I have varied tastes and high media literacy (if I may say so), so you should be fine. Probably. Giving a character my name and making her the best person in the world will definitely help your chances.
  4. It must be written just for this thread; no previous work. I mean, I have no way of verifying that you didn’t start before now, I guess, but I’ll spot-check a sentence or two online to ensure originality.
  5. If you post your full story as a comment in this thread, use collapsible formatting. Collapsible formatting keeps the thread navigable and respectful of others’ submissions. If your work relies on formatting beyond Tildes's simple markdown/images/et cetera, you’re allowed to host a document file/webpage somewhere and link it here, too.

Have at it, and I hope y’all have fun! All of you, whether you’re writing or not, are heavily encouraged to comment your feedback for posted work as a reply! Don’t let your fellow waves feel unappreciated. Putting yourself out there is scary.

(Also, yes, the survey is closed and it’s being actively processed. I promise we’re working on it! It takes time to make pictures and read 577 individual responses to a long survey.)

58 comments

  1. [9]
    fefellama
    Link
    Hey thanks for posting this. I've been in a rut lately and happened to come across this thread. I used to write more back in my early college days over a decade ago, but haven't really written...
    • Exemplary

    Hey thanks for posting this. I've been in a rut lately and happened to come across this thread. I used to write more back in my early college days over a decade ago, but haven't really written anything creatively in a while. Lots of technical writing and research, just nothing for fun. But I loved your prompt and enjoyed spending a couple hours distracting myself from my other responsibilities. Anyways...

    Submission: Hal the GIANT is a kid-friendly poem/short story about a giant who learns a lesson about self-worth. It's a bit shorter than that unimpeachable search result you mentioned, and definitely sillier than you probably intended, but I had fun writing it so I'll share it nonetheless.

    13 votes
    1. [4]
      Grzmot
      Link Parent
      Disclaimer: I'm not the person choosing who wins, just another participant giving the other entries a read. To me contests like this are not about following the rules to the letter or winning,...

      Disclaimer: I'm not the person choosing who wins, just another participant giving the other entries a read.

      To me contests like this are not about following the rules to the letter or winning, it's about taking it as an excuse to be creative, and I think you succeeded mightily. I love the way you play with typesetting to show who's talking and make it a bit more interesting to read for a younger reader. I like the rhymes, I like the point. I think this has the potential to be a cutely illustrated children's book honestly!

      4 votes
      1. [3]
        fefellama
        Link Parent
        Hey thanks for the kind words! It really means a lot. I was worried the fonts would be too much, but it was hard to convey each character’s distinct voice and personality without just turning it...

        Hey thanks for the kind words! It really means a lot. I was worried the fonts would be too much, but it was hard to convey each character’s distinct voice and personality without just turning it into a fully illustrated story. I’d love to turn it into a children’s book! But I have no idea where to go to make that happen, lol.

        4 votes
        1. Grzmot
          Link Parent
          It's definitely not too much! Especially with kids books, you can be much more liberal in your formatting and I think you did a really really good job for someone who might want to read this...

          It's definitely not too much! Especially with kids books, you can be much more liberal in your formatting and I think you did a really really good job for someone who might want to read this together with their child maybe as a bedtime story.

          How you would turn it into something illustrated, I have no idea unfortunately.

          3 votes
        2. boxer_dogs_dance
          Link Parent
          Getting seen by a major publisher is a whole thing. I believe agents can be helpful. But children's books is an important, popular market. We have some writers here on Tildes who would probably...

          Getting seen by a major publisher is a whole thing. I believe agents can be helpful. But children's books is an important, popular market.

          We have some writers here on Tildes who would probably know more.

          2 votes
    2. [2]
      kfwyre
      Link Parent
      This was so cute and so heartwarming! Absolutely perfect for kids — your rhyme, rhythm, and message are all on point. I’m a bit of a Hal myself. I am, uh, rather tall in real life and have been...

      This was so cute and so heartwarming! Absolutely perfect for kids — your rhyme, rhythm, and message are all on point.

      I’m a bit of a Hal myself. I am, uh, rather tall in real life and have been that way since like, kindergarten. As such, every adult in my life at the time told me I needed to play basketball and, at their behest, I did for (too) many years.

      Only problem was that instead of being skilled on the court, I was clumsy, fumbsly — a mess in disguise. I constantly had the sense not that I was too big but that I couldn’t live up to my height. A story like this would have spoken strongly to me when I was young.

      Outstanding work, fefellama.

      Also, if you ever do end up getting this published, I’m absolutely buying copies for my nephews.

      4 votes
      1. fefellama
        Link Parent
        Haha I'll hold you to that! But seriously, thanks for the kind words. I'm glad you connected with it, hopefully you too have learned that it's okay to be giant, it's okay to be tall! I've always...

        Also, if you ever do end up getting this published, I’m absolutely buying copies for my nephews.

        Haha I'll hold you to that!

        But seriously, thanks for the kind words. I'm glad you connected with it, hopefully you too have learned that it's okay to be giant, it's okay to be tall!

        I've always been somewhat tall too, but not to the point where I'd get those basketball comments (and the classic "how's the weather up there"). So I really have no clue where the idea for the story came from, lol.

        2 votes
    3. [2]
      TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      I 100% second what @Grzmot said about rules and creativity, and your story is an incredible example of why it rings true—what a delightful story! I had a massive smile on my face the entire time I...

      I 100% second what @Grzmot said about rules and creativity, and your story is an incredible example of why it rings true—what a delightful story! I had a massive smile on my face the entire time I was reading it. 😸

      You took the most tired rhyming scheme there is and used it to make what is legitimately, in my view, a modern classic of kidlit—every bit as wondrous and impactful as Shel Silverstein, et al. The fact that you haven't written in a while is almost difficult to believe, honestly.

      You have a real talent for writing, for children or otherwise. Exceptionally well done. 💖

      4 votes
      1. fefellama
        Link Parent
        Incredibly kind of you to say! Thanks again for coming up with this idea and sparking that creativity in myself and others! For some reason I find it easier to write when there’s a prompt keeping...

        Incredibly kind of you to say! Thanks again for coming up with this idea and sparking that creativity in myself and others! For some reason I find it easier to write when there’s a prompt keeping me focused. It’s like the story is already there and just needs to be fleshed out some more.

        2 votes
  2. [5]
    LackingInThought
    (edited )
    Link
    I was linked this competition by a buddy and I liked the idea. I did... twist the prompt a lil', but I tried to stick to the idea of a daily routine and improving people's lives. I stuck to the...
    • Exemplary

    I was linked this competition by a buddy and I liked the idea. I did... twist the prompt a lil', but I tried to stick to the idea of a daily routine and improving people's lives. I stuck to the wordcount of 7000 max, but I crossed over that threshold a few times. I had to cut quite a bit to make the story work, but it also helped me reduce a lot of needless sentences.

    Regardless! Here ya go

    Submission: To Make a Ruler

    Thank you for the prompt.

    EDIT: Forgot to add! No trigger warnings and this story follows a cat!

    12 votes
    1. kfwyre
      Link Parent
      Congratulations on the win! Very well deserved. My mental shorthand for your story was: Untitled Goose Game as a folk tale. 😂 Your story was richly written, with lots of great characterization and...

      Congratulations on the win! Very well deserved.

      My mental shorthand for your story was: Untitled Goose Game as a folk tale. 😂

      Your story was richly written, with lots of great characterization and details. I loved the structure and setup, particularly the way you had three different situations that were meaningfully different yet ultimately similar. I particularly loved your creation of a “mean” cat attempting to cook up mischief yet generating affection instead. It was heartwarming, and captured “cute evil cat vibes” well.

      Also, as someone who loves cats yet is severely allergic to them, I could directly relate the plight of Sophie. If I’m even in proximity to a cat, I start to get issues. If I pet the cat and then touch my face, my eyes and nose are destroyed.

      Overall this was a lovely story, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Thank you for sharing it with us, and great work, LackingInThought!

      5 votes
    2. Grzmot
      Link Parent
      I meant to read every short story in the contest but I only got to yours now. What a beautiful tale. I think the 7000 max word count helped you immensely. It's one of those stories that's very...

      I meant to read every short story in the contest but I only got to yours now.

      What a beautiful tale. I think the 7000 max word count helped you immensely. It's one of those stories that's very well paced and I wouldn't want it to be any shorter nor any longer. A lovely arc, and also recognizing a few stereotypes (orange cats being dumb for example) to give folks reading it that vibe of having recognized something from their own lives which immediately pulls them further into the story.

      4 votes
    3. [2]
      TheMeerkat
      (edited )
      Link Parent
      First of all, +10 points for using cats. I'm not above bribery. Seriously, though, I love the take on the prompt—making the "everyday routine" an antagonistic one, even if only on the surface, is...

      First of all, +10 points for using cats. I'm not above bribery.

      Seriously, though, I love the take on the prompt—making the "everyday routine" an antagonistic one, even if only on the surface, is clever. You didn't pull any punches with the emotional beats, which made for quite the satisfying arc. Also, I want Blue to be my familiar.

      You wrote a charming, moving piece that nails the prompt while taking creative risks that pay off beautifully. I found myself sad that the story wasn't even longer (doubly so, as the word count soft limit was 7,500, not 7,000, actually), which is a good sign! Yours is the first story I read, so congratulations for setting a high bar. 💖

      3 votes
      1. LackingInThought
        Link Parent
        Hello! Sorry for the late reply. Thank you so much for your words. The realization It was 7500 made me groan outloud. I didn't realize it was a soft limit either. Regardless, the story remains the...

        Hello! Sorry for the late reply. Thank you so much for your words. The realization It was 7500 made me groan outloud. I didn't realize it was a soft limit either. Regardless, the story remains the same. I cut out 600 words of unnecessary stuff (like the farmer chasing the cat for a few sentences more)

        And I'm not against cheating with cats and spikey hedgehog-y protagonists who need a hug. Muhahaha.

        3 votes
  3. [4]
    Tiraon
    Link
    Well, I decided to throw my hat in despite not really writing anything for a few years. If anyone wants to throw some constructive criticism my way after it would be very welcome. Of wheat and...
    • Exemplary

    Well, I decided to throw my hat in despite not really writing anything for a few years. If anyone wants to throw some constructive criticism my way after it would be very welcome.

    Of wheat and zombies 01 - Ellie "I brought you lunch Tom. I hope you like it." Despite the usual silence from the man working tirelessly in the field Ellie was exhilarated. Tom did not talk much, at all, but she still felt like they started to have a connection. Some of her friends were telling that this was not normal or that she was taking advantage of this simple man but she was trying to help and find out where he came from. And in the meanwhile she was happy.

    "I hope you like it. Would you like me to tell you a story, while you eat?"

    "..."

    02 - Harriet
    "Archie. Summarize the previous days results of the currently active experiments."

    "Program AG-36-97 resulted in a marginal increase in observed manual dexterity of active DF and DH specimens with several individual ones exhibiting greater ability to parse natural language commands. However there is some potential concern with increased degradation of the aetheric links. Would you like to review Miss Applebaum?"

    "Yes, Archie, let's get to it."

    03 - Ellie
    A year ago

    "For what it's worth I am sorry Miss Hopkinson. Your father was a good man and we will all miss him."

    "Thank you. I should be going." Ellie managed while looking uncomfortably away from the eyes of the solicitor.

    "Miss Hopkinson, Elizabeth. I am sorry this is not very professional of me, but do you mind if I hug you?"

    Ellie did not even respond, just spread her arms and fallen into the hug with the usually reserved Mister Derring. The moment stretched comfortably or uncomfortably depending of who you were.

    "Thank you." And she was gone with a slight gust of wind coming from the opened door while hoping the tears that were begging to pool in her eyes went unnoticed.

    The walk back was both faster than normal but also heavier, somehow. Ellie would have almost missed the moment she stepped onto the road to the farm if not for an instinct perhaps. A sliver of movement caught out of the corner of one eye or a slight sound not even consciously registered. A sixth sense.

    When she turned around she saw a man, someone you would not really pay attention to on street. Except perhaps as a lonely human in the middle of nowhere suddenly confronted with a bigger person whose intentions they had no way of knowing.

    "Eh, can I help you?" Ellie asked in a voice she knew was small.

    "..."

    As the silence stretched she should have become uncomfortable but instead she started noticing how he did not really seemed to even see her, the way his eyes seemed to shift around not really taking in anything. Maybe she was naive but perhaps there was nothing to fear here.

    "Perhaps I can, would you come with me?"

    "..." but he started to follow her.

    "Do you have a name?"

    04 - Harriet
    329 days and 14 hours ago, evening at the lab

    "Starting experiment DF-456."

    "After the unfortunate aetheric instability of DF-455 I went back to the base design of DF-454 with the sole change of using aetheric bindings of five fold design."

    "Hopefully that will eliminate the tendency of the controller shifting."

    "Ahh, what is the status of DF-454, Archie?"

    "There is no record of it being removed from storage or undergoing destabilization, Miss Applebaum."

    "Good. Right Archie make sure these base parameters for current iteration are archived."

    "And now for the molding."

    05 - Harold
    "Can you come into my office, Harold?"

    "Yes inspector, of course."

    "There have been some potentially troubling reports from the local practitioners of Dalling."

    "Dalling, sir?"

    "Some out the way village north of here somewhere, I'll make sure you have all the necessary information. Now the disturbance is a potentially troubling one. The reports describe an aetheric shifts possibly consistent with binding and anchoring of discrete molds. As there are no licensed crafters there this is something that needs investigating but thankfully it is not at the stage where we would need to bring in special investigators. Which is where you come in. Get on it."

    "Yes, sir. Of course sir."

    06 - HEH

    Harold felt tired. It felt cliched to even think it but that is what it was.

    "Or course I have permit detective. The family lawyer assured me that everything was taken care of."

    "Lady Applebaum, the permit was specifically for the practicioning of general aetheric arts in the greater Fragoth area. We are in Dalling."

    "Where?"

    Harold bravely resisted the urge to rub the bridge of his nose.

    "It is generally believed to be in the province of Sarath. Which is specifically nowhere near Fragoth. Did you inform anyone that you were moving?"

    "..."

    "And I mean anyone relevant. Aetheric registry, your family lawyer, anyone?"

    "Why? The lawyer said that the permit is universally valid."

    "Lady Applebaum, this is not simply a case of incorrect paperwork anymore. One of your creations apparently escaped and for this past year functioned as an unlicensed laborer at a small local farm owned by one Miss Hopkinson."

    For the first time since the conversation started Harriet fully focused on this detective, Harold Farraugh? Faurgah?

    "Archie are there any specimens missing?"

    "I will check Miss Applebaum."

    "Yes, experiment DF-456 is not currently present either in storage, the lab or the work areas."

    "Tom, apparently appeared out of nowhere on the day Miss Hopkinson lost her father and for the past year worked as a farmhand." Harold seized this opportunity to try to take control of this conversation and move it along.

    "Miss Hopkinson was very distraught when we confiscated him, it. While there were no permanent harm done by this incident I already forwarded all the relevant details to the Aetheric Crafters Guild and I was assured that an internal inquiry would be launched. Now Miss Applebaum,"

    "Right, right, of course. I'd like to meet this Hopkinson, you said. Can you make it happen?"

    Harold just stared despondently at his cup of tea.

    10 votes
    1. kfwyre
      Link Parent
      I read your story, and it wasn’t until the end that it clicked into place for me (which was by your design), so I enjoyed my second read of it more than my first. I was able to better appreciate...

      I read your story, and it wasn’t until the end that it clicked into place for me (which was by your design), so I enjoyed my second read of it more than my first. I was able to better appreciate everything once I had the fuller picture of what was going on.

      Overall I thought this was a really creative interpretation of the prompt, as well as a thoughtful twist on a standard trope.

      Thanks for sharing your writing with us, Tiraon!

      6 votes
    2. TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      Thanks for the submission! First, I enjoy your non-linear parallel storytelling here; it's the most structurally interesting take on the prompt. Terms like "aetheric links" and "discrete molds"...

      Thanks for the submission!

      First, I enjoy your non-linear parallel storytelling here; it's the most structurally interesting take on the prompt. Terms like "aetheric links" and "discrete molds" give us just enough to understand the setting without overwhelming exposition, and the mixture of bureaucratic and fantasy elements is delightful.

      In terms of constructive criticism, I will say that it is fairly difficult to read; grammar, formatting, and sentence structure are all somewhat lacking in ways that can, at times, impede comprehension. It's a solid idea that needs a lot of proof-reading. Also, the ending felt abrupt, and could stand to have a bit more resolution.

      Overall, though, you mention that you haven't written for a few years, and this is a great story to help shake off the rust with. I'm honored that this thread is what made you take the hobby back up! Keep it up. 😺

      4 votes
    3. Grzmot
      Link Parent
      Disclaimer: I'm not the person choosing who wins, just another participant giving the other entries a read. A Frankenstein's monster escaping to become a farmhand and make an adoptive daughter...

      Disclaimer: I'm not the person choosing who wins, just another participant giving the other entries a read.

      A Frankenstein's monster escaping to become a farmhand and make an adoptive daughter happy after her father died is certainly not a way I thought someone was going to interpret this prompt. I respect the creativity! I like how you subtly work into the story how disshevelled the creator of Tom is, not even remembering where she lives and being surprised to be there.

      2 votes
  4. [10]
    Grzmot
    (edited )
    Link
    Submission: TCC № 1: Windows Content Warning: Verbal, physical abuse Link to the PDF (recommended for desktop reading) If people have issues with reading the PDF on phones I'll post the pure text...
    • Exemplary

    Submission: TCC № 1: Windows

    Content Warning: Verbal, physical abuse

    Link to the PDF (recommended for desktop reading)

    If people have issues with reading the PDF on phones I'll post the pure text as well, but copying it out of the PDF isn't a simple CTRL/C CTRL/V job. Anyhow, it's much prettier this way, thanks to LaTeX and microtype. ;]

    I hope you like it!

    EDIT: Here's the story in Tildes comment form. Copying it in from the LaTeX raw file was fairly simple luckily.

    I stand there, outside my work. Staring at the blue sky. Fluffy clouds drift above.
    I stand there, like someone staring at the open sky the for the last time before I'll see it through bars only for the rest of my life.

    That's not true. Inmates at least can see the sky. I just get concrete roofs and fluorescent lights. Infinite rows of the tallest shelves you have ever seen. I exhale and get ready to enter my own personal hell; the largest warehouse of the largest online shop on the planet. A masterwork of logistics on the scale of a world wonder. In it, people move around, fulfilling orders, like cogs in a machine. We serve it. Didn't we use to make machines to automate the boring shit? What a joke.

    Before I get to open the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY something rubs against my leg. I look down. It's the stray. The cat has been greeting me often as of late. Probably because the one thing I've been remembering to do lately is to bring a can of cat food with me to work. Somehow, the can never makes it inside. She purrs. I can't just hear it, I can feel it as she rubs against my leg. I smile for the last time today, open the can and put it down. Since yesterday, she's been letting me scratch her behind the ear. I commit that purr to memory, because it'll be the last nice sound I'll hear for hours.

    I wish I could afford headphones.


    I don't remember most of the day. Suddenly, I'm back in my shitty apartment, falling into my shitty couch. I even manage to do some doomscrolling through the apps instead of falling asleep immediately. Some youtuber is having beef with another youtuber and now they are doing hot takes of each other's videos. The Algorithm recommends me shit I don't wanna watch, but do anyhow because who cares. Why should I watch informational content? I'm never making it out of that warehouse. Might as well dull my brain.

    At least I'm tired every day. If I had the energy to dread tomorrow I would have killed myself a long time ago.


    The next day, the hours grind away in the warehouse. My manager interrupts the grinding.

    "Oye, we had a return for getting the wrong item and you sorted it. Pay more attention at your job!"

    I stare right through him. He walks up until I can smell his breath, which makes trying to guess the colour of the wall behind him impossible. But I don't flinch. Just let it happen. Fastest way to get it over with. His tone is seething, and his eyes have that angry glare of a man who has nothing in his life but anger. Angry at traffic, angry at his wife, angry at his kids, his neighbours, his neighbour's kids, his television...

    "You giving me attitude? You giving me an excuse to fire you?!"

    Drops of spit land on my face. I stare at him. "I can have you replaced within twenty-four hours, and I know it was you who stole from section B yesterday."

    Keep staring. "I wasn't in section B yesterday."

    I wasn't and I didn't steal anything. Section B has the cheap electronics shit no one needs and everyone buys for some fucking reason. I was on the other side of the warehouse, and it takes forty minutes at a brisk pace to get from one end to the other. He knows this, I know this. He's just being a cunt. He's my manager damn it, shouldn't he know in which section I was yesterday?

    Swallow the rage. You need this job. If you don't stand up to him he'll keep you around as a target.

    He leans in, snarling. Yeah, show me those nicotine teeth. I hope lung cancer gets you. "You were. I just can't prove it yet."

    What the fuck is he talking about? We wear trackers so that The Algorithm can select who should grab what order based on who's closest to it. It's even how they track that you don't go beyond your one minute bathroom breaks. I keep thinking about a reply, but the guy just walks off. Bastard.

    Bastard. The spite gives me energy. I hate it, but beggar's can't be choosers, and spiteful energy is better than no energy. I even have enough to hate the fact that I have no energy most of the time.

    It keeps me going even after I come home. Don't shower yet, or you'll relax and fall into the couch again and waste more of your life. Instead, I head for the chair.

    The chair stands in front of the measly excuse I dare to call a hobby. Canvas. Two brushes. An array of fine oil paints. Ordering them cost so much, and every time I look at them I feel a bit of shame. Shame that I didn't spend my money on something smarter. Shame that someone somewhere had to race around a warehouse just like me. Shame that those paints prove I made someone's day worse getting them to me in a box, just because I couldn't go out and buy them in a store myself. I'm so lazy, and I'm sorry. But I power through it. They're here now, I might as well use them.

    I set up the phone so that it records the canvas and my hand. Out of focus behind it, my ancient laptop starts playing the next episode of \emph{The Joy of Painting}. I wish I could be more like Bob Ross. I'm trying!

    I follow along the episode and record everything. Just my hand, following directions, and Bob narrating in the background. Happy little clouds. Happy little trees. Whacking the devil out of the paint brush. I wish I could talk to him through the screen, he's the only soul who was nice to me this year after mom kicked me out. "Nineteen is old enough to survive by yourself!"

    It doesn't matter now. Nothing does. Just paint. Let it flow. My hand shakes at first, it always does. Putting that first touch of paint onto canvas is always so daring, it feels so wrong. Like stepping into a snowy field first thing in the morning. No footsteps anywhere, just you disturbing the snow. Now it's me disturbing the canvas. Is my art good enough for it? Do I deserve to paint on it?

    Bob says I do. I smile back at the screen and start. There, blue criss-cross patterns to start with the sky. The rest of the painting happens almost magically. And with every brush stroke I accept that \emph{I'm} making it happen. Isn't that amazing?!

    I'll be tired next day. Extra tired. But it'll be worth it. By the end it's beautiful. Bob's painting. I end with my usual touch. I don't know why I do it, something inside of me just wants to. Wanting. It's been a while since I've wanted something. This feels the closest to it.

    I paint over the painting, framing it as if you're looking through a window at the beautiful landscape. Did I ruin it? Probably. But now it's my painting, not Bob's painting. I hope he forgives me, wherever he is.

    I upload the video to my channel on Youtube. No one ever watches it, but I don't care. This is just for me. It's fine if the videos get lost in the trash of the platform. There's not enough space on my phone to store them all. I scrub through it one last time, like a time lapse. Bob narrates in the background, you can see him move out of focus on the screen. There rest is just gentle breathing and the sound of brush on canvas. Upload and forget.

    I always sleep well after painting. It's not the sleep of the exhausted, but the sleep of the content. Like getting closer to myself.

    The only thing good the next day is the stray. She lets me scratch her behind the ears and then I venture into hell. It all goes to shit just before lunch.

    Some idiot decided they needed a round glass vial bottle thing the same day, and of course I'm shivering, because I'm cold, because I'm tired. I grab the thing and before I know it it's on the ground in pieces. I stare at it.

    FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckWhatDoIDoNow?!

    "What the FUCK did you do now?!"

    How is he always where I am??

    My manager charges towards me like a bull. I freeze, and feel my heart beat so fast it might as well burst out of my chest. Why can't I move? Why can't I ever do anything? He stops just short of ramming into me, but he might as well have. I feel myself backing off, staring at the ground. The shelf presses into my back.

    "I should have you fired!"

    I slide down the shelf. This is it. Forget paints, I won't be able to afford food. He keeps towering over me.

    "Get back up, are you gonna cry now?"

    Just retreat back inside. Let it bounce of your skin like a shell. Remember the window. Bob, please help me. I stare at the ground, trying to imagine a painting there. But it's grey concrete, not white canvas. Insults keep coming in, like from a different dimension. This works.

    Until he yanks me up by the collar. I can barely see the hand coming in when he slaps me. Pain sears my cheek and yanks me back from my safe place into reality. I raise my hand to my cheek in disbelief. Did he just-

    "LISTEN WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

    Someone else rushes by. I don't blame them. No one wants to be here if they can be somewhere else. Tears dwell up in the corners of my eye. No, no nonononononono don't lose composure as well!

    I suck it up. Somehow. Bottle it up. I can't believe emotions still fit in there. His nose almost presses into my cheek and now I can't escape it. That fucking stank breath.

    "CLEAN THAT UP NOW AND GET BACK TO WORK YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

    He shoves me into the shelf one last time and for a moment it seems like it will keel over with me. Maybe that's just my imagination. He scurries off and I? Well, what can I do except get back to work?

    I cut myself cleaning up the shards, and that emotion also somehow fits into the bottle. But I struggle to force the cork in to seal it. The rest of the day is a haze.

    Hours later, I walk out of work. I should report today. But to whom? "HR" is just an AI chat bot. I already work for a machine, I don't want to talk to it too. HR works for the company anyway. They'll just bury it.

    I look down at my hand, the wound covered in a band-aid. The same colleague that rushed by my abuse found me in the break room staring at my bleeding hand and helped me out. Maybe she felt sorry. Maybe she felt guilt. I don't know. I barely remember her face. She had a kind smile and apologized, though.

    The stray returns. The cat's been waiting here, it seems. She crawls out from under a dumpster and rubs against my legs. She meows.

    That sound sends the lid flying out of my emotions bottle. My legs give out and I collapse against the dumpster. Tears spill. The world goes blurry and I don't even try to wipe the tears away. My nose blocks up and I start sobbing for air in loud gasps. It's ugly. I feel my hoodie cling to my chest as the cotton gets wet. I don't see the cat do a startled jump and little half circle as she backs off and closes in again. I would have never forgiven myself for scaring her away. But in the end, the cat stays. She climbs on top of legs and purrs loudly, rubbing against me. I do my best to hug her and cry into her fur. What an angel. She doesn't care how ugly my crying is. How loud. How much sobbing. That it's not manly. She is gentle. Patient. She just lets herself be hugged and keeps purring and rubbing her head against me.

    There's a lot in that bottle, but it's finite. Afterwards, I feel empty. But empty in a good way. Like cutting myself free of an anchor. Like carrying around a huge rock and dropping it. I've never felt like this before. Have I been bottling up all my life?

    I'm just happy no one else walked out during my breakdown. Right. That's it.

    I raise the cat to my face. "You wanna come with me?"

    Meow.

    That breaks me a second time, but my body can't produce any more tears. I hug her again and stand up with shaky knees. Thank fuck the dumpster isn't on wheels so I can drag myself up.

    I find the nearest vet and have her checked for a chip in case she's not a stray and lost her collar, but she hasn't been chipped. That seals the deal. I can't afford the vet bill, but I ask to have her health checked out anyway. She's fine for the most part, just needs a good bath. Since I've been feeding her cat food, she didn't get anything bad from eating trash, and she didn't get into a fight or sick either.

    I go shopping for pet supplies. Some more food, a toilet, litter, things like that. I get her a collar. I can't think of a name. She stays with me, comfortable in the kangaroo pouch of my hoodie. Her head peeks out, and I keep scritching her behind the ear.

    Angel is a good name. I look down. "You like Angel?"

    Meow. Purr.

    I smile like I smile at Bob teaching me to paint. "I love Angel."

    Later tonight, thoroughly exhausted after a \emph{difficult} bath, I find the energy to paint more. Angel is curled up in my lap, and now my breathing is accented by her purring. Bob talks in the background. Tonight, I do something radical.

    I paint the window open.

    I'd love to paint a cat resting at the window, but I don't know how. I finish the video and upload it. That's a problem for tomorrow, I'm sure I'll find a video for it and Bob can take the day off.

    Tomorrow. My heart sinks into my stomach. Tomorrow is work. I can't go back there, I won't go back there. I shake my head and Angel wakes up. No no no, I'm sorry, you were sleeping and now I feel twice as bad. I have energy to feel bad. Her energy. It's not spite anymore.

    If I don't go back there, I can't feed Angel. But I can't go back there. I can't I can't I can't. I start shaking. Angel gets up on her hind paws and presses herself against my neck. She's still purring. I hug her. And I do something else radical.

    My upload finished, I check my channel. I don't want to doomscroll. I don't care about pointless drama between people I don't care about and will never meet.

    I click on a random one of my videos just to watch it. I keep hugging Angel, and she keeps purring. I can feel her little soft paws kneading my shoulder and I can't believe I deserve it. Together with Bob talking in the background it helps me break out of the spiral.

    My jaw drops. F-Five thousand views? No description, titled Painting TJOP S12E9, and five thousand people watched it?

    I scroll down to the comments, and my jaw drops further.

    "Your videos always help me fall asleep. It's something about Bob Ross' voice in combination with the drawing and breathing that just makes me feel safe! Thank you so much for doing this."

    "I don't get the windows, but I love the videos!"

    There are sixteen responses of different people discussing what the windows could mean. Sixteen people cared enough to chat about this. Someone in there even studied art at university. Sixteen!

    "Something about having this on my second monitor just helps me focus. Maybe it's because Ross is out of the picture, but there's still something happening. Really helps me coding at work. Great job, I wish I could paint like you!"

    This guy probably makes at least four times what I do and he's impressed with me. How? I'm a loser. I keep petting Angel, I keep reading, and I forget to shake. I click on another video of mine, read more. I forget to be afraid. There's something else. Is that pride swelling in my chest? I did a good job, didn't I? People are telling me I did a good job. I'm helping people. My art is helping people. My. Art!

    I look at the cat. She looks at me. "People love my stuff, Angel!"

    Meow!

    I click on the newest video. No one's seen it yet, it's been up barely a minute. I write a comment and pin it at the top so everyone can see it. I'm feeling way too raw to be coy. I would've cried right now if I could. If I hadn't spent all my tears for today already.

    "Thank you so much everyone for the kind words. I honestly haven't been reading them until now, because I thought I was doing this all for me. I didn't realize my videos were having such an effect! I've been having a bad time recently, so I please ask everyone commenting to be kind and excellent to each other, ok? Maybe it's selfish, but reading your comments really puts me in a good mood. Thanks everyone!"

    That still leaves tomorrow. But the fear doesn't come. I can't quite pin the emotion I'm feeling instead, but it's not bad. I'm not going back. Never. I'd rather be homeless, I'll find a way to feed Angel. But what should I do with my day instead? So much time. My eyes drift to my paints. I've been running low on the titanium white because I need to wet the canvas with it every time. But I'm never fucking ordering anything again. Wasn't that paint company somewhat local? I saw them in some documentary on Youtube where an art conservator visited them. I look them up.

    Three hour trip with the bus. That sounds so possible when you aren't working or getting to work or getting home from work for ten hours of every day.

    "Want to go on a trip, Angel?"

    Meow.


    It's an old-school store, with a bell that rings when the door opens. A fan runs on the ceiling, endless churning the hot air around. Susan looks up from the book she's reading behind the counter, and sees a man walk in. Boy, really. She gets up with a smile, noticing the cat in his hoodie. A bit strange, but we're all allowed a bit of strangeness, and as long as it doesn't make any problems. He slouches, and looks exhausted. At least he showered, but really isn't making the best first impression. He grins in the way that some nervous people do and rubs the back of his neck. His shoulders are all locked up. One arm is always on the cat. He's attentive.

    "D-Do you guys sell oil paints?"

    Susan opens her mouth to shoot back the snarky but self-deprecating joke she usually offers smart asses.

    Then her eyes finally assess the boy properly. The eyes of a loving mother. The dark circles under his eyes. That cowering stance perpetually expecting to get screamed at or worse. His clothes haven't gotten washed in weeks, but his hair and face are clean. He isn't lazy, he's always out of time and energy. Her nostrils flare in a brief moment of rage, but it's not directed at him. It's directed at the people who break children so utterly that they grow up into young men like the one standing in front of her, and at the system that needs them like a meat grinder needs meat. The rage is so brief and well hidden he doesn't notice it. The words coming out of her mouth are much softer.

    "Of course we do, hon. We make oil paints right here in the workshop behind the store. What kinda colors do ya need?"

    "Titanium white, to wet the canvas."

    He smiles nervously again. His eyes dart around and for a second Susan thinks this might be a tweaker about to rob her store, but tweakers don't have cats on them. Not cats this clean, anyhow. He just doesn't look like someone who'd wanna rob anybody.

    She smiles back, the smile of a loving mother. "Ah, the Bob Ross school I reckon?"

    The nervousness vanishes from his smile. Susan sees his shoulders relax. "That's the one. Can afford just the white today unfortunately."

    Susan doesn't need to check the watch to know he's coming in at a time when people tend to be at their workplace. She rummages around behind the counter, pretending to look for the paint. "Between jobs? It's a terrible economy."

    He rubs the back of his head again. "Uh, yeah. Worked at the big warehouse in the city for year but I think I'd rather be homeless than go back there. It's hell."

    Susan hears a lot out of that last sentence. He doesn't look twenty yet he stares at her as if he did tours for the army. That stare lasts a thousand yards. Kids that age shouldn't work in warehouses bigger than some airports. They don't unless they have nowhere else to go. "Everyone's heard the stories by now about those places. If you survived in there that long, you must be tough and a hard worker. You'll find something in no time." She puts the paints on the counter. "That'll be eighteen dollars please. Cute cat, by the way."

    He grins again, always scratching the cat behind the ear, and pays. "She's an angel. You have a nice day, alright?"

    "Thanks hon, wish you the same."

    The bell rings as he slouches out. Susan looks on after him. The bus stop is just outside and he sits down as if the bus isn't coming in two hours. He didn't even waste time by browsing stuff he can't afford.

    Susan walks into the back of the store and finds Mark. The middle-aged man doesn't look up from thumbing through checks, orders and letters. Susan leans against the doorframe. "Any luck with the summer interns yet?"

    Mark doesn't look up, and keeps thumbing like a robot. The spot was reserved for Josh, so the offer only went up recently. Susan sees the fresh candle burning in front of Josh's portrait on Mark's desk. Cancer is a terrible disease.

    Mark finally responds. "Nah."

    Susan scratches her nose, and thinks back on the boy sitting at the bus stop. She plans ahead like she always does. He probably lives a few hours away, but organizing a place to sleep is easy. Honestly, now that one of her daughters is off to college, the house feels a bit empty\ldots He carries his cat around already, what else does he have?

    She smiles at Mark, who has finally looked up at her.

    "Good, 'cause I think I have someone."

    FIN

    14 votes
    1. [2]
      kfwyre
      Link Parent
      This story was both a gut punch and a hug. You did a great job of building up a sense of dread and anxiety in the main character. I think all of us have been in a situation where we feel stuck but...

      This story was both a gut punch and a hug.

      You did a great job of building up a sense of dread and anxiety in the main character. I think all of us have been in a situation where we feel stuck but we’re also being pushed up against our breaking point. You captured that specific feeling really well.

      Also, contrary to others, I thought the slap was fine, story-wise. The implication of it, to me, was less that the individual person was evil but that he, too, was being pushed to his breaking point. What would cause a manager to strike a subordinate? Nothing short of that, I feel. To me it was a detail that hinted at how the whole system was rotten, rather than your story just indicting the lowest roles in the warehouse.

      Amidst the gloom in the story was genuine warmth. I loved the paintings; I loved the cat. I loved the idea that we all put things out on the internet but often don’t realize the impact they have on others because it’s invisible to us. You’re someone who’s had a great, positive impact on this community here, Grzmot, even if we don’t always tell you as much.

      Anyway, thank you for sharing your story. I loved it. It was powerful.

      7 votes
      1. Grzmot
        Link Parent
        Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read my story. It means more to me than you might think. This line in particular got me to ponder a lot, and I think I found a more compelling...

        Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read my story. It means more to me than you might think.

        Also, contrary to others, I thought the slap was fine, story-wise. The implication of it, to me, was less that the individual person was evil but that he, too, was being pushed to his breaking point.

        This line in particular got me to ponder a lot, and I think I found a more compelling way to contextualize the slap than currently in the story: What if the person who joined the protagonist in the break room and helped him patch up his hand wasn't some unknown person, but the boss himself that slapped him? What if it gave the protagonist a fresh view on his tormentor. The line "What if he doesn't hate his wife? What if his wife his divorcing him?" kept coming into my head again and again, so maybe that would be a way to fix both the excessive villainization that other readers criticized and made more apparent what you spotted right away: that he is just another victim of the system, driven to abuse from being abused. The narrator is very much unreliable, and it could have been a good moment where they view something from a different perspective.

        I don't know, maybe it's a bad idea.

        It was important to me to not leave the reader sitting in all that depression though, which is why the ending matters to me greatly. I think I've written in enough seeds that readers can imagine a happy ending blossom from, that shouldn't be too different to what I had in my head when writing it.

        You’re someone who’s had a great, positive impact on this community here, Grzmot, even if we don’t always tell you as much.

        Rude! How dare you make me feel things through something as simple as a comment on the internet! /s

        Thank you very much for everything. You're one of the most thoughtful and kindest people here so from you that means a lot.

        3 votes
    2. [2]
      LackingInThought
      Link Parent
      You cheat, using a stray cat, how dare you (no, i'm not a hypocrite, screw you) I very much related to the guy's feeling of endlessness vs creative pursuit. That dread was great, though his boss...

      You cheat, using a stray cat, how dare you
      (no, i'm not a hypocrite, screw you)

      I very much related to the guy's feeling of endlessness vs creative pursuit. That dread was great, though his boss was a bit.. uhhh, too evil I think. It made him less believeable. Kinda wanna punch the guy.

      overall, it has a nice sweet tone to it (even with all the suffering) and the Bob Ross effect on the commenters is super relatable

      Thank you for the story <3

      3 votes
      1. Grzmot
        Link Parent
        Tbf, if you wanna punch the guy, I succeeded. :P But yeah, I agree that it's less believable. Bob Ross remains a treasure.

        Tbf, if you wanna punch the guy, I succeeded. :P

        But yeah, I agree that it's less believable.

        Bob Ross remains a treasure.

        3 votes
    3. [3]
      TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      Oh, wow; at least with my reading order, that's two stray cats in a row. Maybe I'll canonize that as a rule next time. :P I quite enjoyed the down-to-earth nature of both the everyday routine and...

      Oh, wow; at least with my reading order, that's two stray cats in a row. Maybe I'll canonize that as a rule next time. :P

      I quite enjoyed the down-to-earth nature of both the everyday routine and the impact it left on people. Rather than going big, it's as simple as a few relaxing YouTube videos and a few nice comments, which very much helps ground it in real-world terms.

      The brutal workplace dehumanization hit strong, whilst still offering genuine hope at the end without getting saccharine. That's a hard line to walk. I'll say that the manager physically assaulting the protagonist was, as @LackingInThought noted, a little too evil for how realistic the rest of the story was, but that's a small note. Great work. 😸

      3 votes
      1. [2]
        Grzmot
        Link Parent
        Thanks! Yeah, I went a bit too evil with the manager. @LackingInThought suggested that rather than a mean person someone indifferent that sacrifices the protagonist to cover up for a mistake they...

        Thanks!

        Yeah, I went a bit too evil with the manager. @LackingInThought suggested that rather than a mean person someone indifferent that sacrifices the protagonist to cover up for a mistake they made would've been a much better call and I agree. But that's how it is sometimes! Make a decision when writing and without editing feedback it becomes what it becomes and that's alright.

        I was mentally stuck at what should trigger the mental breakdown of the protagonist that initiates their push to change their life which is what lead to me to making the manager too two-dimensional.

        3 votes
        1. TheMeerkat
          Link Parent
          It was still an amazing story regardless, so you clearly succeeded in the areas that mattered most. :)

          It was still an amazing story regardless, so you clearly succeeded in the areas that mattered most. :)

          2 votes
    4. [2]
      lou
      Link Parent
      A text format is preferable for phones and e-readers yes.

      A text format is preferable for phones and e-readers yes.

      2 votes
      1. Grzmot
        Link Parent
        I put it into the original comment if you prefer reading it that way! :]

        I put it into the original comment if you prefer reading it that way! :]

        2 votes
  5. [4]
    CannibalisticApple
    Link
    I first want to say, thank you so much for hosting the contest! I've been wanting Tildes to have a more active writing community, but I couldn't think of ways to really push it beyond the...
    • Exemplary

    I first want to say, thank you so much for hosting the contest! I've been wanting Tildes to have a more active writing community, but I couldn't think of ways to really push it beyond the occasional post. For some reason, it's felt a bit hard to share writing on here compared to when I'd post on forums as a kid. I've also been in a bit of a minor creative rut recently, which also didn't help. This contest seems like just what we all needed!

    Thanks aside, here's my entry: Back to the Routine: A Summary of Why Clear Communication in the Workplace Matters, by Maureen Brandt. Final word count of 7,138 words, because I struggle to keep stories actually short.

    I don't think any content warnings apply, maybe some light psychological horror. I freely admit I had no idea where I was going when I started this story. Writing it was just as much of a journey for me as it was for the character. That was a fun prompt with a lot of room to work with!

    14 votes
    1. Grzmot
      Link Parent
      I completely agree with @kfwyre, this is hilarious take on the prompt. Gives me big Secure, Contain, Protect vibes if you know that project. Everyone's story stands out in different ways, but I...

      I completely agree with @kfwyre, this is hilarious take on the prompt. Gives me big Secure, Contain, Protect vibes if you know that project.

      Everyone's story stands out in different ways, but I think yours does for just taking the routine that everyone else assumed to be having a positive impact and turning it into something necessary preventing an evil from occurring. Great outside the box thinking there!

      3 votes
    2. TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      What—and I assure you, I mean this as nothing but the highest possible praise—the fuck. Much like the other two comments you've received thus far, I don't want to spoil too much of the story for...

      What—and I assure you, I mean this as nothing but the highest possible praise—the fuck.

      Much like the other two comments you've received thus far, I don't want to spoil too much of the story for anyone just going in now, but holy shit. I could not have guessed any of the many turns the story took to save my life, even had I known that some twists were coming. You've made something both genuinely hilarious and genuinely creepy, which is quite difficult to do simultaneously. The fact that it fit the prompt so well whilst ending up so unlike any other entry is rather an achievement.

      Minor spoiler.

      I'll say this: I work in healthcare, and the idea of needing to perform arcane rituals you barely understand every morning in order to keep your poorly-designed workplace from becoming an Eldritch nightmare hellscape is, unfortunately, deeply relatable.

      Unrelated: this entry means that 50% of all the entries received this month involved a cat in some meaningful way, and nothing has ever delighted me more. 11/10 story.

      3 votes
    3. kfwyre
      Link Parent
      This was such a creative interpretation of the prompt. I absolutely love what you did with it! The story did not pan out at all like I initially expected it to, and that was wonderful. I won’t say...

      This was such a creative interpretation of the prompt. I absolutely love what you did with it!

      The story did not pan out at all like I initially expected it to, and that was wonderful. I won’t say more because I want other readers to have the same experience I did, but I want to commend you for creating such an interesting and tight narrative here.

      Fantastic work, CannibalisticApple!

      2 votes
  6. [5]
    GoatOnPony
    Link
    Submission: The Shortcut Content Warnings: None that I can think of Hope you enjoy it! Story here You're standing on a makeshift stage in someone's backyard. An expectant crowd shushes as they...
    • Exemplary

    Submission: The Shortcut

    Content Warnings: None that I can think of

    Hope you enjoy it!

    Story here You're standing on a makeshift stage in someone's backyard. An expectant crowd shushes as they beacon you to say something. You don't know what to say. So you start from the beginning.

    One year ago you looked down at the pouch of your stomach, remembered the latest disdainful look from the too young checkout attendant, and doom scrolled through too many too expensive Ozempic ads. Jogging it is, then, you thought. The back of the closet yielded a pair of snug running shoes with your ex's note still attached. The donate-or-rags bag of clothes that'd been building steadily for years produced some athleisure wear that was all the rage five years ago. An unopened dusty package in the garage contained one of those ultra bright LED lamps that you'd meant to give to your nephew as a present. You grab the spare set of noise cancelling earbuds that form an integral part of staying sane at the office. The assembled tools sat in the entryway to your suburban home. The initial energy of collecting them mollified the bits of your brain saying "just fucking do something", so there they lived for a few weeks. One day after a sleepless night, in the wee hours before dawn, you yanked the clothes on, tightened the shoe's laces till they hurt, clipped the light onto your chest, popped the earbuds in, put a podcast on, and headed out the door.

    You stepped straight into the maze of cul de sacs and identical houses. Harsh circles of bright from streetlights form a network of liminal spaces stretching off around the corner. You had no destination in mind; there was no real destination that could be reached on foot. So you started to jog. You follow the slow twists and turns, picking forks at random, and doubling back frequently when they turn into dead ends. At some point you passed the school, the dog park, the grocery store, all quiet and closed in that pre-dawn time.

    When the exhaustion finally caught up to you and you stopped to look at your phone, the map taunted you. A mere thirty feet separated you from home. Thirty feet of someone else's lawn between two houses. The map reported two miles along sanctioned roads to get home instead. You'd jogged further than you thought, further than you wanted to do again. Pristine and dewy, the lawn enticed your feet which ached from pounding along the concrete. This was someone else's property though. Crossing through it would be trespassing. Collective imaginary lines sheared the world into individual inviolate places. Those lines were important. You toed the line furtively anyway. New sweat broke out on your brow from the anxiety of transgression. It was dark, darker now after you switched the LED light off. As though switching the light off made you invisible. No lights came from the house. Could you even have made it home if you didn't take the shortcut? Certainly the risk of collapsing was a higher need than property law. So you cut through the yard. A quick five seconds and you made it home. And when you ran the next day, drawn inextricably to the same spot by the winding contours of fate and the whims of some crazed architect, you walked across the imaginary boundary again with less trepidation. It soon became your regular shortcut.

    You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about desire paths, the trails people create when the built environment asks for a circuitous path.

    You didn't notice the kids until you had already jogged across the lawn. They stood there on the sidewalk looking tired and miserable, heavy backpacks and little sleep. Their dimmed eyes regarded you and deemed you non threatening. A simple suburbanite going for a run. You didn't even realize kids lived here. A car pulled up and they piled in, headed to school. As the boxy cage trucked the kids off you caught them looking towards where you had come from, your shortcut. A pang of fear as you hoped the kids wouldn't rat you out to their parents.

    You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about the lack of autonomy for today's kids dependent on their parents to get anywhere.

    While running one pre-dawn morning your light bobbed across a new poster among the mishmash of lost pet wanted signs and long over yard sale ads. You didn't pay it much mind at first but the posters kept appearing on power poles along the route. Comic sans boldly exclaimed "Robbers among us hunting for your valuables! KEEP YOUR HOUSE LOCKED!" You slowed down to check if it included any details but it kept to vague testimonials of people looking into their houses at night. You never had anything of value and ignored the missives. But when you noticed a cop car sitting next to a curb, you felt disquieted and watched. You slowed to a walk and tried to calm your heartrate. You were a criminal, however minorly.

    You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about the fear mongering about cities and crime rates despite them largely being safer than ever.

    Months had passed. The idea and fear of transgression had long faded and you ran towards the shortcut, shielding the light without even fully turning it off. It was thus a surprise to feel not grass or the mud patches which had begun appearing but something hard. Your hand fell away and let the light spill across the ground. Hard pavers sunk solidly into the ground greeted you. The tingle of realization tickled the part of you which remembered that this was breaking the law. Your mind raced to fill the other side of the lawn with cop cars and drawn guns ready to blast you away for your heinous actions. But the other side presented nothing more than the empty street. You held off running for a few days, a vague paranoia that arrest was right around every corner. But soon you're jogging again anyway.

    You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about how communities can build their own networks of support and improvements to the neighborhood.

    The dog greeted you so cheerfully as you passed through the shortcut, wagging its tail and prancing around you. It darted up along the pavers to the other side and off to meet its owner a ways up the street. Anxious about meeting people, especially amongst this illegal foray you sped up and nearly tripped over the donation cabinet. It was a wooden set of shelves dolled up with colorful paint and already full of items. You use it as a bit of cover to slide out of view before the dog walker approached and headed through the shortcut.

    You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about how to practice mutual aid to help each other and provide basic necessities.

    It was just last week when they were there as you came jogging up. The kids were on their bikes with school backpacks after having just crossed through the shortcut, anxious to be on their way to classes. The angry gesticulations from someone you didn't recognize waved the poster around with an additional bundle of them tucked under their other arm. The homeowner was in their pajamas, pissed at being woken up early. As you approached they turned and launched into explanations, tirades, and platitudes as though you were some arbiter of things. You pushed your hands up in a defensive measure and side stepped them all, ran past and through the shortcut - cut the Gordian knot by feigning confidence and normality.

    You sat inside while fretting, a doom scroll feed on stand by.

    When they knocked on your door you thought for sure this was the cops to come haul you away. Instead it was some city official and the home owner. They said that the homeowner had agreed to have the shortcut turned into an easement controlled by the city with a new sidewalk to run through it. Even more shocking they told you they'd like you to speak at the opening ceremony, which is why you're here speaking today.

    12 votes
    1. [2]
      kfwyre
      Link Parent
      This one’s short, but you’ve packed a lot into it! I loved your use of second person. Structurally, the repetition of the jogging actions framed by the podcast topics work really well at creating...

      This one’s short, but you’ve packed a lot into it!

      I loved your use of second person. Structurally, the repetition of the jogging actions framed by the podcast topics work really well at creating quick time and topic progression in just a few words.

      I also liked that the story sort of bucks the “individual hero” motif of a lot of other fiction. The actions of one individual here are certainly important, but this story feels more like it’s about the systems that individual (a.k.a. “us”) operates in. Your use of a desire path as a symbol is also really powerful, anchored by the weight loss nod and community recognition for someone who was initially unhappy but decided to make a change. Really beautifully done. You’re skillful with your details and have great word economy!

      This feels like a modern parable. I’m currently reading The Ministry for the Future for the Tildes Book Club, and this also feels like it could be its own chapter in that book.

      Excellent writing, GoatOnPony.

      4 votes
      1. GoatOnPony
        Link Parent
        Thank you immensely for the kind words and for taking the time to read it! Your comment is now saved for when I need a rainy day self esteem boost :D

        Thank you immensely for the kind words and for taking the time to read it! Your comment is now saved for when I need a rainy day self esteem boost :D

        2 votes
    2. TheMeerkat
      (edited )
      Link Parent
      I adore second-person perspective and find it criminally underused; here, it truly enhances the thematic integration of the perspective with the commentary on collectivism. The podcasts are a fun...

      I adore second-person perspective and find it criminally underused; here, it truly enhances the thematic integration of the perspective with the commentary on collectivism. The podcasts are a fun way to reinforce the theme and reconnect with the narrative in a beautiful, natural manner.

      I also deeply enjoy just how… low-stakes(?) the "meaningful, small actions" are. Keeping the scope as zoomed-in and focused as a desire path, while having it affect something as significant as it did, is an artful execution of the prompt. This is a fun, feel-good, witty story all around, and I quite liked reading it. 😸

      A minor point: the pace of the writing (not the narrative, but the prose itself) drags on occasion, with under-punctuated sentences of shorter, staccato rhythm close to one another all throughout the story. This was the most notable instance of it, IMO:

      This was someone else's property though. Crossing through it would be trespassing. Collective imaginary lines sheared the world into individual inviolate places. Those lines were important. You toed the line furtively anyway. New sweat broke out on your brow from the anxiety of transgression.

      Consider increased variance in sentence length and construction in the future, e.g.:

      Technically, this was someone else's property. You knew that crossing through it meant trespassing—one of those collective imaginary lines that humans had agreed to draw across the earth, shearing the world into individual parcels of inviolate space. These lines mattered, or at least that's what you'd always been taught. Yet here you were, toeing that invisible boundary with furtive glances left and right, while fresh beads of sweat betrayed your anxiety at this small act of transgression.

      3 votes
    3. Grzmot
      Link Parent
      Disclaimer: I'm not the person choosing who wins, just another participant giving the other entries a read. I really likes this one! It gives juuust enough detail about the life of the protagonist...

      Disclaimer: I'm not the person choosing who wins, just another participant giving the other entries a read.

      I really likes this one! It gives juuust enough detail about the life of the protagonist to make them into a recognizable character while at the same time keeping it brief enough to get the point of the story across.

      2 votes
  7. Grzmot
    Link
    I love this! And I'll certainly participate. Just in case this turns into a reoccurring thing, feel free to PM me in case you need sponsors for prizes. Always happy to chip in to get something going.

    I love this! And I'll certainly participate.

    Just in case this turns into a reoccurring thing, feel free to PM me in case you need sponsors for prizes. Always happy to chip in to get something going.

    9 votes
  8. [3]
    TheMeerkat
    Link
    Y'all definitely did not make this easy for me! I loved reading every single entry, and I am pleasantly surprised that this worked out as well as it did—especially since we had no entries until...

    Y'all definitely did not make this easy for me! I loved reading every single entry, and I am pleasantly surprised that this worked out as well as it did—especially since we had no entries until right before the deadline. I feared this would be a massive failure almost until the end!

    It's been exceptionally difficult to decide which story I like the most, but I've narrowed the finalists down to two entries:

    Both: feature protagonists unaware of their impact; reveal the significance gradually through character interactions; balance humor with deeper emotional resonance; subvert initial expectations about what constitutes meaningful impact; feature a cat (the most important criterion). They adhere to the prompt wonderfully whilst going somewhere altogether unexpected with it. They're amazing stories, and honestly, either one could win depending on your personal taste.

    To Make a Ruler has:

    • Stronger character development, with several important secondary characters
    • More emotional depth and range
    • A more personal exploration of the protagonist's impact

    Back to the Routine has:

    • A more creative premise with more narrative shifts
    • More genre diversity and exploration of form
    • Stronger writing technicals, with fewer grammatical/formatting issues (zero that I could notice, in fact)

    I'm going with To Make a Ruler as the winner, albeit by a narrow margin. Ultimately, I chose the prompt I did because it speaks to something vital and human; despite the irony of not being about a human, To Make a Ruler's broader range of emotional highs and lows creates (in my opinion) a more satisfying read. If the pacing of Back to the Routine were just slightly tighter (both have very similar word counts, despite To Make a Ruler accommodating more narrative development) or if it relied slightly less on the element of surprise, it might have taken the win. It's an extremely strong second place!

    Congratulations, @LackingInThought! I'm DMing you the prize now. I look forward to seeing what everyone comes up with next month, so be sure to look out for that thread. 💖

    Shameless self-promotion: I write as well, if anyone wants to check that out. Also, yes, I am still working on the survey results.

    9 votes
    1. GunnarRunnar
      Link Parent
      Great choice, one I probably would've made too. I chose not to comment on any individual submission but overall I enjoyed reading through the submissions.

      Great choice, one I probably would've made too. I chose not to comment on any individual submission but overall I enjoyed reading through the submissions.

      2 votes
  9. [2]
    GunnarRunnar
    Link
    Mostly commenting to bump this so others will get a chance to take part in. I'm planning to participate as well if I find the time and inspiration. This prompt is challenging for me as I haven't...

    Mostly commenting to bump this so others will get a chance to take part in.

    I'm planning to participate as well if I find the time and inspiration. This prompt is challenging for me as I haven't (yet) come up with a reasonably interesting hook around the subject, and I don't really feel like forcing myself to write anything obvious like this was homework.

    Anyway, this is a cool idea and it'll be neat to see how others interpret this.

    8 votes
    1. TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      Please feel free to give me ideas for future prompts as well! 💖

      Please feel free to give me ideas for future prompts as well! 💖

      3 votes
  10. [2]
    NaniTheHuman
    (edited )
    Link
    I'm not participating but I admire those who can write. So I'd be trying to read all the submissions. Just wanted to say good luck to all of you who participated! And good job on getting it done!

    I'm not participating but I admire those who can write. So I'd be trying to read all the submissions.

    Just wanted to say good luck to all of you who participated! And good job on getting it done!

    7 votes
    1. TheMeerkat
      (edited )
      Link Parent
      This is great comment to hijack to say that the deadline has passed and submissions are closed! I'll read all of the stories submitted over the next ~week and DM the prize to the winner. I'll also...

      This is great comment to hijack to say that the deadline has passed and submissions are closed! I'll read all of the stories submitted over the next ~​week and DM the prize to the winner. I'll also be providing feedback on each story.

      I figure monthly is a decent enough pace for these, so I'll post the next on the 7th of February.

      3 votes
  11. [4]
    kfwyre
    Link
    I am genuinely blown away at the quality of these submissions. I’ve finally read through all of the stories, and I’m glad I’m not @TheMeerkat because I would have NO clue how to select a winner!...

    I am genuinely blown away at the quality of these submissions. I’ve finally read through all of the stories, and I’m glad I’m not @TheMeerkat because I would have NO clue how to select a winner!

    I’ll be individually exemplarying all submissions (because I genuinely do think they’re all exemplary). Normally I do that privately, but I’m announcing it here because the 8 hour cooldown for me means that some are going to get it before others, and I don’t want people to think that I’m attempting to sway the judge or play favorites. I honestly liked each story submitted for different reasons.

    A big thank you to everyone who submitted their work. I know it can be scary to put your creative work out there for anyone, much less internet randos (who, on the whole, are not known for being kind — though I’d admittedly argue that we lean toward kindness more here than in most other places online).

    Also, I thought it was interesting how many parallels there were between distinct stories. Cats and allergies! Who would have thought they’d be such common focuses? As someone who does have genuinely awful allergies, including to cats, many of these stories make me feel very seen. 😂

    Also, a question for both TheMeerkat as well as the authors: are there thoughts on compiling these into a site or an ebook or whatnot? As I read through these, I realized that we basically have a full themed short story anthology here. It feels like it might be worth it to make it cohesive or give it a place to live?

    No pressure or anything, but I wanted to throw out the idea — especially if these continue. It would be cool to have definitive archives of the prompts and each story submitted.

    7 votes
    1. [2]
      TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      People being grateful that they aren't me is a recurring theme in my life. I like the idea of Exemplary-ing all of the submissions, and I'll contribute my own 8-hour cooldown until we've hit every...

      People being grateful that they aren't me is a recurring theme in my life.

      I like the idea of Exemplary-ing all of the submissions, and I'll contribute my own 8-hour cooldown until we've hit every entry. 😺

      Also, a question for both TheMeerkat as well as the authors: are there thoughts on compiling these into a site or an ebook or whatnot?

      I claim no rights to any of the stories, so I'd have no right (with only one exception that I saw, at least while skimming) to repost them anywhere. It's a good point, though, and I may consider adding at least a suggestion to make your entry's content license clear next time.

      4 votes
    2. fefellama
      (edited )
      Link Parent
      Agree 100%. Tildes is the most wholesome and kind forum I've ever been a part of and I hope it stays that way forever. I'm reminded of this pretty much every time I look at the comments section on...

      I know it can be scary to put your creative work out there for anyone, much less internet randos (who, on the whole, are not known for being kind — though I’d admittedly argue that we lean toward kindness more here than in most other places online).

      Agree 100%. Tildes is the most wholesome and kind forum I've ever been a part of and I hope it stays that way forever. I'm reminded of this pretty much every time I look at the comments section on nearly every other website out there. That said, why is it that it's so scary to put your work out there? I wrote that poem about Hal the Giant and really thought long and hard about posting it because something in the back of my mind was like 'what if it sucks and people think you're weird'. Like I loved writing it, and was super pleased with how it came out, but that final step of sharing it with others just felt like a much more difficult task even though I know how friendly Tildes users are. Not sure if it's a confidence thing or just preconditioning from regularly seeing vitriolic internet comments for the last two decades.

      Regardless, thanks to everyone here for creating this little contest, offering to help with future prizes/prompts, or participating and reading each others' submissions.

      Also, a question for both TheMeerkat as well as the authors: are there thoughts on compiling these into a site or an ebook or whatnot? As I read through these, I realized that we basically have a full themed short story anthology here. It feels like it might be worth it to make it cohesive or give it a place to live?

      I love this idea and would be happy to see my work there if desired. And I agree that it should be something spelled out more-directly in future iterations.

      2 votes
  12. [3]
    semsevfor
    Link
    I love the idea of this. I miss /r/writingprompts even though I rarely actually submitted a story. If I am able to think of a compelling story I may submit, but this prompt in particular isn't...

    I love the idea of this. I miss /r/writingprompts even though I rarely actually submitted a story.

    If I am able to think of a compelling story I may submit, but this prompt in particular isn't moving the creative juices for me. I do hope you will do more!

    6 votes
    1. [2]
      TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      Please feel free to give me ideas for future prompts as well! 💖

      Please feel free to give me ideas for future prompts as well! 💖

      4 votes
      1. Grzmot
        Link Parent
        Thank you so much for organizing this! Since I know that figuring out prompts can be a bitch sometimes, here are a few ideas: An unruly student learns the value of order, and their teacher that of...

        Thank you so much for organizing this! Since I know that figuring out prompts can be a bitch sometimes, here are a few ideas:

        • An unruly student learns the value of order, and their teacher that of chaos
        • Describe the life of an object, its creation, its many owners, and it eventually being lost (and maybe rediscovered?)
        • A crew filming the next summer blockbuster discovers that the beam in the sky device they made for the climax is actually dangerous and must fix it

        That's all I got for now. Idk how good these are. Probably should go and get inspired by r/writingprompts

        3 votes
  13. [2]
    public
    Link
    100% original fiction only (or as close as it gets), or fanfiction welcome too? I may have some relevant ideas for both answers (but perhaps not the time).

    100% original fiction only (or as close as it gets), or fanfiction welcome too? I may have some relevant ideas for both answers (but perhaps not the time).

    6 votes
    1. TheMeerkat
      Link Parent
      Fanfiction is allowed! The only caveat would be on your end, as I may not necessarily be familiar with the original work and that might harm judging it as a winner if I am just completely lost in...

      Fanfiction is allowed! The only caveat would be on your end, as I may not necessarily be familiar with the original work and that might harm judging it as a winner if I am just completely lost in the world. If the context is self-evident or unnecessary for appreciating the work, though, it should be totally fine.

      6 votes
  14. [4]
    TheMeerkat
    Link
    Only two days left. :)

    Only two days left. :)

    6 votes
    1. [2]
      Grzmot
      Link Parent
      Finished my story today, but I need to let it sit for a day and edit it tomorrow. :] I also pulled a friend into it and they joined Tildes because of it so you should have at least us two haha.

      Finished my story today, but I need to let it sit for a day and edit it tomorrow. :]

      I also pulled a friend into it and they joined Tildes because of it so you should have at least us two haha.

      5 votes
      1. TheMeerkat
        Link Parent
        That's super cool! 💖 I look forward to reading both!

        That's super cool! 💖 I look forward to reading both!

        3 votes