Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion

Drabbles are super short stories that are 100 words. No more, no less.

Note: This idea came from Sophie and here's her example:

There was blood on the wall when I stepped into the room that night. Penn, Luke, and Ava were sleeping; I was the only one up. Quickly, I strung my thick hair into a ponytail that cascaded over my shoulders like a waterfall and walked to the kitchen to find my midnight snack. That’s when I found him—his arms thrown about carelessly in odd positions, a strangled man lying in a pool of blood. And, like any sensible person, I screamed.

“Shhhh,” I heard a man say. “Be quiet. You wouldn’t wanna let anyone know you killed him, right?"

Soooo is this where we post any drabbles we might like to share?

Yes, Athalus :)

Thanks, Leslie. Great idea, Sophie.

This is something new to me, so I looked it up. Apparently, there isn’t agreement about the word length (some say 100, 100 or less, 500, or 1000) or the nature of the content (in some contests, the drabble is more like a short essay). There seems to be agreement that the title shouldn’t be included in the word count.

In the Wikipedia article, I came across another form of microfiction that seems interesting: 55 Fiction (limited to 55 words).

I have looked it up to and a drabble is a form of flash fiction, which is anything from one sentence to under 250 words, after that it becomes a short story. A Drabble is a subgenre/ style of flash fiction and while many don't agree on it's length more people than not agree that it should be 100 words in length.

I found a lot of sites that state drabbles are one hundred words, no more and no less. Also, I thought it might be fun to try and get that exact amount. So much to say in only one hundred words - what a challenge!

Here's another one that I wrote:

Victoria was a girl who liked two things: judging and being perfect. Often times, simultaneously. The class before lunch, she snuck a peak at Maya’s test grade. 86%? Victoria sniffed and stared at her 97% written in pretty red pen.

“You didn’t do very well, did you?” she said in a pitying tone. “I got an 100, of course.”

Maya rolled her eyes as Victoria walked away feeling smug. But she should’ve known that something big was going to happen, something big that would wipe that smug smile off her face in a second. Oh, if only she had known.

I like the idea of exactly 100 words, it makes each one earn its place. Very nice, Sophie.

Drabble

I sit and stare at the blank page before me, hart racing palms sweating. I have laughed. Scoffed! At those that said this was hard, now I know the joke was on me. I imagine them sitting now on the porch, drinks in hand chuckling at what a fool I was. I fell for it. I took the bait! Now I am lost to the warm summers day, the wind through the leaves, the sun on my cheek! If only I not fallen for it, if only I had not said I can write a drabble in an hour!

By Althalus

I’m observant. I take pride in my sensitivity to the world, my ability to pick up small details others don’t. It’s why I’m one of the best members of the forensics and debate teams, and it’s why I take good notes and write well-written stories. But the day Eliza’s parents picked her up, to make her feel better about the divorce, the day I walked alone without her, I didn’t notice the man standing in the shadows until it was too late. To be fair, he blended in easily with a sneaky, quiet demeanor. But my mistake cost me everything.

The news was all over the town. A serial killer that had taken three lives. Something about the dark police report sent a shiver down my spine and I soon tossed it into the garbage.

The nights these happened I must've blacked out, had trouble remembering who I was and where. There was the music club on 49th street, O'Bannon's pub, and another bar that had a special on drinks.

The idea frightened me some that it was me. I forced that thought far from my mind. It couldn't be. Couldn't be!

Trotted to another bar. What could ever happen?

My head throbbed as I recalled the last time I saw Eliza but all I could think of was Kristen Stewart’s face when she had turned into a vampire. I pushed the image out of my mind as I thought of searching for Eliza, though I had no idea where to start.

I reached for my phone in my back pocket to check the last time she called me but to my surprise, her messages and call logs were all deleted. Running my hands through my hair, I wondered if my mother had something to do with her disappearance.

He was watching television when his arm went numb. Then knowing he was alone at the moment started to act.

He ran to his house phone and then the pain hit him hard as if a vice was squeezing his heart, almost blinding pain.

When that part was over he grabbed the phone fast but as he did the piece of plastic dropped from his aching fingers.

On his knees he dialed the number. Then said a prayer.

When the caller responded he quipped, "Emergency." in pained breaths just before he was thrown into cardiac arrest.

He lived.

Well just to kick off the comments, I think these all great; I wish I could think so concisely!

In particular I loved Ryan's smiley face paper plane, Al's leap from the window and CJ's serial killer.

All very good!

This is my first visit here and it looks like great fun! Thank you Sophie and Leslie. I'll see if I can scrape up one hundred words up out if my recycle bin.

I adjusted the grip on my father's hand as he coiled to a sobbing heap. It made me uncomfortable, seeing him like this - the father who had always seemed immovable as stone in any regard but humor - mourning the brother with whom he'd shared so much. And now, I swallowed, the one to face a similar fate alone.

I bit my lip to quell the sob that bubbled from my throat. The image of myself and my mother alone forever, without the man who'd make songs about shitty situations whilst having the patience of a saint, rose in front of my eyes. I couldn't imagine how Daniel was holding it together up on that podium, speaking with barely a quaver. How could anyone survive the loss of their father? How would I survive the loss of mine?

My father's chest heaved; I held his hand a little tighter and rested my head on his shoulder. With tight-shut eyes and bitten tongue I thought to myself, "I wish mom were here."

Jeremy

Jeremy was new at school; small and shy. I saw him walking home through the deepening snow, staggering under the weight of a bag full of books. I offered help and we shared the load. He didn't say much but his smile was radiant. It was a moment I quickly forgot, but from it friendship burst.

Years later, during his OAM acceptance speech, Jez floored me: "I dedicate this award to my friend. Years ago, I cleaned out my locker and headed home to take my life. A random act of kindness diverted me. Never underestimate the power of friendship."

Ryan wrote: "Jeremy was new at school; small and shy. I saw him walking home through the deepening snow, staggering under the weight of a bag full of books. I offered help and we shared the load. He didn't say ..."

Ryan, This is so well done. I get how it started and where it ended. Though I'm hoping there is more for these two characters, this story feels complete.

Thanks so much, Connie. Your turn :)

Oh, this is nice! Hadn't seen it before :)

Ryan, I read both of your drabbles in your blog, and they are simply amazing! You are pretty good at this. They are coherent stories with a lot of heart. You say a lot in just a few words. :)

Maybe later I'll give this thread a try.

Thanks, Jocilene. It's a good exercise-I tend to ramble if I'm left without constraint.

I'm looking forward to your drabble, don't take too long :)

Turn of the Wheel

Friday afternoon.

The girl at the wheel didn't deserve her licence but if Joe failed her, the paperwork would keep him from happy hour.

"Ok, you passed. Take us back."

"Really? Even after that rear-ender?"

"Your lucky day, kid."

"I guess so."

"Where ya goin'? The office is the other way."

"Something to show you, mister. Here we are."

"The bridge? Quit fooling around."

"No fooling, mister. My brother drove my family off this bridge after you licensed him. He shouldn't have been driving."

"Ain't my fault, kid. Shit happens."

"Sure does. Can you swim?"

"Swim? Stop, kid! Wha-"

Forbidden Fruit

She was fifteen when Kate first met August. In that small meeting, the smiles would be a sign of a beautiful friendship. Kate was young; full of dreams. August was the best she could ever dream of. Then it was platonic love. Behind the smiles, sparkling glances were all the time around. Somehow it became unconditional love. Lucky Kate was given a chance to live in fairy tales. Not every fairy tale has a happy ending, though. At some point, it became sorrow. August was the forbidden fruit she would taste just to find out you never love a priest.

As you wished, Ryan :)

Excellent, Jocilene! You did a great job with the characters in such a short space. Love the ending!

Thanks, Ryan :) Glad you liked it!

Rishi's Star

While the other street-dwellers huddled beneath worn blankets and cardboard, Rishi gazed skyward, smiling.

"Fool boy," muttered one threadbare man.

"Not right, that one," another agreed.

Content watching his star, Rishi didn't hear. She whispered secrets and kept him warm with her quicksilver eyes.

One awful night, Rishi found his star gone. Too cold to sleep, he started walking. In a strange part of town he found a girl weeping.

"What's wrong?"

Looking up, familiar eyes came alive.

"Nothing, now." She offered her hand; Rishi accepted.

Forever more two stars shone together, casting a silver blanket over those below.

Ryan wrote: "Thanks so much, Connie. Your turn :)"

I'm not sure it's my thing. I can barely get my short stories short enough for the thread.

I hear you, Connie. They're a great exercise in word choice :)

Thanks, Al. I rarely get time to write anything long lately but I'm enjoying these - I can write them in my head and transpose them whenever I get a second. Great pic, by the way ;)

Please jump in.

Al, You are funnny.

Hah! I love how your mind works. Seeing Frank feels like catching up with an old friend. Great stuff, Al :)

Yursa, Nice job Yursa. Very short, but very powerful.

Excellent, Yusra!

Yusra wrote: "Five years old in the playground.

"We don't let brown people play, do we, Holly?"

Holly agreed. I wandered off crying, and counted clouds in the sky by myself.

"

Yursa, that's really great - these drabbles are really intense - they seem to distill the story down to it's essence. I'm also really hoping that all the experiences you recited aren't your own as they make me rather ashamed to be British. So sad that people are still passing on such unpleasant thinking to their children in this day and age.

Yusra, you seem to be a lovely and level headed person and I'm glad you have such a positive view!
Hope you have a good day too!

Revelation

Dane glanced at the somber gathering, all dark suits and dresses; he shouldn't have come. As the ceremony finished he approached the broken couple, crumpled together in their grief.

"Mrs and Mr Bowen, I'm so sorry."

He'd expected harsh words, a slap even. Their response was worse: they pushed past him and left, like he didn't exist.

Grief mingled with guilt. He'd been too drunk to drive, she'd told him to slow down.

"I should've died too."

"Should've? You did."

Startled, Dane looked up. A shadowed form stood before him in the suddenly dark cemetery.

"I've come to collect you."

Hi, Al. 100 words is easy, 12 novels on the other hand...

Al,

It is interesting to me that your poems are so short and powerful, but you find the Drabbles more difficult than writing a novel. I wonder what the difference is?

Chance

Sprinting the last block to his bus-stop, Chance knew he was late.

Again.

And that meant dismissal.

Defeated, he stepped from the rain into a crowded cafe. He took the last vacant seat beside a pretty young lady.

"Bad morning?" she asked.

"Fired, rejected manuscript, drenched...not too bad." Chance grinned.

"What's your story about?"

Over a coffee, Chance detailed his novel."

"Sounds interesting."

"Let's hope it's a best seller!"

"Bring it to my publishing company and we'll see."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Only one way to find out..." She stepped outside.

"Wait, what's your name?" Chance called, following.

"Destiny."

Ryan wrote: "Chance

Sprinting the last block to his bus-stop, Chance knew he was late.

Again.

And that meant dismissal.


Defeated, he stepped from the rain into a crowded cafe. He took the last vacant sea..."


Love it Ryan!

“Tommorrow”, Joy promised, before hanging up.

It had taken two weeks to join the health club, and three days to call and say she’d done it. They’d picked today because that call had preluded a four day weekend, which she already had planned. One of them was an evening of cards. Munching on chips and cookies, washed down with mixed drinks, she’d joked about much time on the treadmill it would take to lose those pounds.

The phone rang again. A strange voice, saying her baby sister had died. A heart attack.

“What, when?”

“Tomorrow”, it said, before hanging up.

Ooh, very nice! Well done, Connie. Great twist at the end, very unexpected. Addicted now?

Well - here goes - a first attempt!

“It’s a free country” said the arrogant young policeman “She can go where she likes.”
The old woman was rude and abusive but Ellie was uncomfortable sending her off into the dark, snowy countryside. She was horrified when the older policeman began to arrest the old dear. That wasn’t Ellie’s intention when she’d called them.
He smiled kindly at Ellie’s shocked face as they passed “She’ll be safe in the warm now.”
Ellie still wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing.
“The new owners are away” He’d said when Ellie phoned “She hadn’t lived out there for over fifty years.”

Excellent, Nicky. There is a huge amount of depth and backstory implied in your Drabble. You left me wondering about her past life in and why she'd returned now (other than the possibility of dementia). Like it a lot :)

Ah, a piece of pure-Al-magic. It wasn't enough for his heart to just stop, he had to be hit by an ambulance of all things! Great story in so few words. I love how he lit up a cigarette and strolled out to meet his fate and the clever play on 'Be back in fifteen.' Very nice :)

She’d been at home for some time. She’d lost her way, and her confidence. She was getting it back, and feeling a bit bored, when the call for help came. They needed an emergency replacement to help mentor a special class of troubled kids, designed to give them “The Power of Hope” and “The Skills to Cope”.

One glaring glance, two sharply worded comments and three hours later, she had the feeling of being misunderstood and chastised. It reminded her of her own troubled childhood.

She sat down to write a letter before it was too late.

Very nice, Connie. I knew you'd be hooked ;)

Empty Sky

"It was the empty sky that first set me on edge.

"Hundreds of birds huddled in overcrowded trees, despite the late hour and the crisp morning air. I was sufficiently unsettled to restock the bunker and still inside when the radiation sensors sealed the door. But I ramble.

"If there's anyone still alive out there, I'm in a bunker on Mount Dandenong. I'm transmitting on UHF and will scan all frequencies for as long as I'm able.

"I'm at coordinates 37.8311° S, 145.3600° E, with food and water. Is anyone out there?

"I don't want to die all alone.

Out."

Ryan, you brought this thread to life! Very nice.