The best endings leave a little bit of mystery—there is something left that the reader can’t quite figure out. I’ll always prefer an ending that leaves me with a question over an ending where everything is wrapped up tidily.

Even in stories that are otherwise airtight (e.g. Hamlet), the ending is made more memorable by its last-minute swerve towards the unexpected. Why does Horatio get to be the last man standing? Why is he the one who lives to tell Hamlet’s tale? After all this time following one character, why doesn’t the story simply die with him? It’s questions like these, little ghost notes of confusion, that linger on after the best stories are done.

Endings with mystery leave a narrative space open for the reader to fill with their own interpretation, and thus can better foster a sense of personal connection between the reader and the story. Afsheen Sharhadi writes:

A story that offers an absolute ending can be an escape from reality, which isn’t without its merits. But a story that works toward an ambiguous ending becomes a mirror for the reader, allowing them to see themselves through the truly unique lens of fictional experience.

Mysterious endings are a particularly essential part of tragic or melodramatic storytelling—as Charles Baxter writes:

Melodrama is the recognition, dramatically, that understanding sometimes fails, articulation fails, and enlightenment fails.

Another way to put this in terms of short fiction is that a short story ends when it comes back to life.