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For the Drabble Challenge A drabble is a short work of fiction of precisely one hundred words in length. The purpose of the drabble is brevity, testing the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in a confined space. |
| “Do you frame rugby jerseys?” the customer pulled the signed Allblacks shirt out of her bag and spread it on the counter. Marie was able to conceal her wince, and replied, “Certainly. I hand-sew the jersey onto conservation matboard and use UV filtering glass to preserve the value of your collector's item, it prices out at $760.00. The customer's smile faltered. With a nod, Marie added, “Plus a plaque with match details… that’s another $25. “Hmmm… I'll have to think about it.” As the client left, Marie silently cheered at another successful scrummage won - she hated framing rugby jerseys. |
| Her teacup cooled on the table, waiting. Near elbow, her phone was full. She watched up the old driveway, hopeful of a visit or a call. Time had passed slowly this way. Unchecked, lonely she might forever be. But hope and prayer were answered, so that a change she’d see... Backing down her driveway, a truck arrived with her daughter’s smile Collecting up her possessions, to live with her for a while. It was hard to leave the familiar, but being close to family won. No longer to reflect but make new memories, and next summer, she’ll visit her son. W/C 100 |
| The Funeral John Luke’s final audience was dressed all in black. Lisa, the aspiring actor's girlfriend, sat in the front pew next to his family. All wept as the priest made his sermon of tragedy; life ripped from its moral coil far too soon. John Luke was poised for Broadway, about to be a headline. Instead, his death was fine print on page 3. 'Death by accidental overdose'. After service, they filed past the coffin. Lisa placed a belladonna flower and whispered, “Good night, sweet prince.” Tony, one of John's writer friends, hugged her small form till she could sob no more. The Graveyard His bum was getting damp from the pile of dirt they sat on. “This lark makes a chap wonder to the meaning of it all,” Jeff drained the thermos of coffee into his cup. Pete snorted a reply, “What’s to wonder: we comes, we does, then we goes.” “But there must be more to it than that,” Jeff protested, “And it’s our quest to learn what that more is. ‘Knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven’, and all that.” “Bollocks. Naught but self-comforting ideologies.” Both then stood and picked up their shovels to resume filling in the grave. The Wake It was difficult to say when he noticed the soft thudding sound or the faint male voices; when did the darkness and pounding headache give way to these stimuli? He tried to open his eyes, only to realise they were already open. John Luke’s heart quickened in horror as he realised he could barely move. He thrashed but met with wooden resistance disguised as a soft cocoon. “Tony!” his shout was of anger as much as in desperation. Memory flooded in of a drunken Romeo dare, and he gasped another breath, beating his fists on the lid, “Let me out!” Written for: "Drabble Activity 2024"  Prompt: A drabble trilogy (trabble) – 3 drabbles related to one another, and yet each able to stand on their own |
Extra perks were offered to a volunteer to be the cellmate of the new arrival. Everyone knew ‘ratting’ was expected. A careful eye was to be kept on Amarat, a Political activist who’d disrupted the Prime Minister's plane. My father had the dubious fortune to be in the ‘right place at the right time’ and stepped up. He was waiting when the screws left Amarat in the cell. “You’ll have to tell me what to tell them.” Amarat’s tension broke with a high-pitched joyful laugh. An enduring friendship was formed, and 50 years later, Amarat is still Dad’s dearest friend. Word count: 100 For Drabble Activity 2024, Week 7 Prompt: A non-fiction work. Essay, memoir, op-ed: creative nonfiction (not just a regurgitation of facts). |
| Felix hid near the back door, with a grass moustache and golden eyes peeking in through the glass. Mistress was still sitting at the table; it was as if time had slowed down. Didn’t she have anything better to do? Mouse squirmed as though life depended upon it. It did. Bravely, Felix took a primal sprint through the cat flap. “Not again!” Mistress spilt her coffee as she snatched Felix; her heart raced at the coupled load she lifted. At that moment, Felix had choices. Deliberately, he meowed. Mouse leapt and scurried to freedom in the form of a fridge. 100 words Drabble about an animal |
| “Don’t let Perfect-Peterson see that, she’ll have you fired,” Tony warned the new teller as she dropped the bank-issue pen into her bag. “I thought you were kidding earlier, she’s that uptight?” “Ms P’s ass spits out diamonds on the hour.” Jenny giggled at Tony’s joke but took care to put the pen back. Two seconds later, armed robbers burst into the bank. Tellers ducked as a masked man grabbed Petersen and thrust his revolver into her face, shouting she unlock the vault. Pee ran down her leg. Tony noticed, nudged the new girl and snickered. “Not so perfect now.” W/C: 100 Written for: "Drabble Activity 2024" Prompt: A story involving a crime – murder, robbery (theft) or embezzlement |
| Red, orange, and gold, the flickering fairy lights made their way indoors, forcing festivity into the dark room. Inside, with knees bouncing as he anxiously waited, Trevor’s eyes darted to the doorway. ‘Where is she?’. Finally, Gert burst into the room, wide-eyed and gasping for breath and fliers-bag empty but for the hollow rattle of a spray can. “You fool!” he exploded, scolding his comrade, “People like us don’t go out at night cause people like them see us for what we are.” Not replying, Gert turned on Sky News, desperately hoping their efforts would at last make an effect... W/C: 100 Written for: "Drabble Activity 2024" Prompt: Use a quote (or quotes) from William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, or Jane Austen (highlight the quote/s in bold) My quote is from Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist |
| “Don’t throw your apple core out the window, Alex; if it hits someone at this speed, it might injure them.” “That’s not actually true, Mum.” “Yes, it is; we are going eighty -- ” “Seventy-seven, actually.” “-- don’t interrupt me, so everything inside the car is going that speed." “It will slow before it reaches them from the wind and gravity.” “It will still hurt.” “And a core’s mass will slow down quicker than if it was a solid.” “But still, it will be nearly as fast.” “You are wrong, it’s physics.” “When did you start disagreeing with me, Alex?” W/C: 100 Prompt: Dialogue only, between two people (a duologue) – boyfriend & girlfriend (or same sex), parent & child or teacher & student |
| “The solar winds are hitting us bad, Captain.” Navigator Tkatch reported, “the FTL drive doesn’t seem up to it, we need to slow down.” A red light on the control panel blinked an urgency in the reactor room. “You leave engineering to me,” Anderson barked, “increase power 37%.” “Yessir.” Tkatch turned the dial, casting a nervous look around the rest of the crew as the desperate blinking red light continued ignored. Back on Earth, little Nancy in her party dress, watched the screen tracking daddy’s trip home, unaware that her cursor blinked in sync with Engineering. Suddenly, both lights stopped. W/C: 100 Written for "Drabble Activity 2024" Prompt: Story to be horror, fantasy or science fiction |
| Six-year-old Marie gnawed on the end of her pencil a bit too hard, it crunched, and splinters filled her mouth. Meanwhile her classmates chattered and confidently wrote their answers, as though they already had everything worked out. Student teacher Mrs Smith, in pink twinset and cat-eye glasses, tapped her foot, waiting for the students to finish. Behind her the blackboard loomed with its question: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” The classroom clock ticked loudly. Panicking, Marie hastily wrote “Dental Nurse.” and turned to spit the shards out of her mouth. Her fate was sealed now. W/C: 100 Prompt:Story to feature a nurse, librarian or teacher |
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