Writers, and Anyone Else That's Interested: Share Your 'Drabbles'!

First, let me apologize if this is not the correct forum for this type of thread (Mods, please move it, if necessary), but since this thread is meant to house some flash fiction from members, and isn't a story in and of itself, I didn't feel confident posting it in 'Short Stories', 'Collaborative Writing', or 'Literature'.

What is a 'drabble'?

A drabble is a form of flash fiction in which the writer attempts to tell a story in exactly 100 words (Not including the title).

To some, a story that short may seem silly, pointless, or shallow, but the act of 'drabbling' is a real test for many writers. I've been writing these for a while now. They can be extremely fulfilling, and help to hone an ability that many writers lack: the ability to get to the point without being overly verbose.

So, what say you, ATS? What can you come up with?

I'll start it off.


The King's Hubris

The idea of death had never occurred to him. He'd always felt indestructible.
Riding off to battle, leading legions of men against a countless horde of barbarians, was something that he would consider an everyday chore.
He'd ruled with an iron fist, passing laws and using torture as a means of keeping the sheep under the crook of the shepherd.
Die? Him? Ridiculous!
The people loved him! They had to, or he'd cause their suffering to multiply a hundredfold.
Who would dare attempt such an unthinkable thing?
Those were the King's final thoughts as the garrotte closed around his throat.

The last piece of bacon

Eyes stared across the table. Dangerous eyes. Menacing eyes. Hungry eyes. The last piece of bacon sat on a plate cradled with the paper towel used to soak up the savory grease that it was cooked in.
A gamblers stare mirrored my own. I felt the weight of the gun on my hip. I calculated the time it would take to draw my weapon, end the stalemate and enjoy the last piece of bacon on the planet.
I took a deep breath and let it out. I counted to five softly in my head.
Bacon. It all ends with bacon.

a reply to: beezzer

Nice! However, I get 95 words there... You need 5 more to be a drabble, as the title is not included in the word count

originally posted by: ProfessorChaos
a reply to: beezzer

Nice! However, I get 95 words there... You need 5 more to be a drabble, as the title is not included in the word count

Oh!

I counted the title.

Apologies.

originally posted by: beezzer

originally posted by: ProfessorChaos
a reply to: beezzer

Nice! However, I get 95 words there... You need 5 more to be a drabble, as the title is not included in the word count

Oh!

I counted the title.

Apologies.

Not a problem, I'm glad you're participating!

The Summoning

He couldn’t escape the feeling of being watched. You know? Not like daggers in your back, where you know the source of agitation, where it originates. This was fear was of subtle shrapnel. It reminded Jonathan of doors creaking slowly in the night. Yet this was a bright day, and Jonathan, fresh off Main St., was casually walking down the sidewalk amongst many suburbanites who paid no attention to anything or anyone. This fact made Jon even more uncomfortable. For how can one be watched so intimately amongst a throng. Jon hid himself in himself, thinking his mind was tricking him for some reason, but then he heard a voice. The loudest whisper if you can imagine from notso far away, but ever present and upfront. Jon turned into the nearest alley, ready to face his fear. His life, he thought was coming to a climax. He closed his eyes, took a breath and jumped into the beckoning dumpster.

I'll try. Apologies if it's not very good.

Cat and Mouse
Quick, twitching nose and whiskers test the air before venturing out … and darting back. So unsure! Tiny claws on the end of spidery toes scrabble at the floorboards. Another foray into the great outdoors, and another mad dash back to the close dark with nary a flick of a bare pink tail. Soft fur shudders over a hunched back as hindquarters bunch for another attempt to leave, to break free.
When it comes, it explodes, dashing forth with all the speed of a champion, straight into the path of the hunter. A swift bite, a shrill squeal, and freedom.

a reply to: Tucket

This isn't a reflection on the quality of the story by any means, but for a drabble, you're over the 100 word limit by 59 words.

a reply to: ketsuko

Well done!

The beauty of the drabble is that one wouldn't expect a story to play in so few words, but there you have it!

a reply to: ProfessorChaos

Ah #, I didnt even count. I took it as more like a guideline than a rule ha. Apologies.

a reply to: Tucket

No problem. Drabbles are a specific type of flash fiction. Just be glad I haven't started a 'twit-fic' thread! Those are only allowed to be 100 letter stories... lol.

Here is another:

Eventually, The Sky Is Blue For Everyone

The sky was so amazingly blue; he was saddened that he'd never really noticed it before.
He'd spent his entire life chasing his desires, and something as beautiful as the clear sky, was never among them.
A tear rolled down his cheek, onto the ground beneath his head.
Stunning.
He lay there, mesmerized, in an empty field, staring into the blue, watching the clouds float by.
It didn't feel strange to him that he wasn't lonely; he felt at peace with himself, for the first time.
The sun was very bright, and without closing his eyes, he breathed his last.

kind of last minute lol

The Marshal and the outlaw.

His fingers relaxed gently around the rosewood handle of the old revolver. It fit so perfectly within his hands, almost as if it was made just for him. Slowly letting out a ragged breath, cursing underneath that breath, he stared blankly at the body lying silently at his feet. His gun leather squeaked as the piece found its longtime home. “It was just his job” he would constantly tell himself. But the lifeless face looking up at him sung a different tune. He had heard the stories but didn’t believe them. Turning slowly, he whispered softly, “Find peace my brother.”

a reply to: roaland

Excellent, and rather reminiscent of Roland of Gilead.

a reply to: ProfessorChaos

ya i felt i couldn't very well write about a gunslinger without giving homage (rosewood handled pistol) to my favorite series haha

thanks great idea for a thread, I'll have to do more of these. great practice.

a reply to: ProfessorChaos

This is super neat! I'll give it a try in a little bit, just wanted to comment now so I don't lose the thread. Great job to those who've contributed so far!

The Psychopath (Or: The Entire World Is Against Me)

“Fifty”, they told him. “Fifty. If it’s less, betcha they screwed you like they always do”. He put the package onto his lap, fingers trembling while he hastily removed the wrapper. “I hope for your own good you didn’t screw me. You can screw everyone else but not me!” He tried to keep his anger under control but knew at the same time there was no peace until he counted them all. “Forty-EFFING-EIGHT… FORTY…EFFIN…EIGHT!!” he raged, pushing the pedal hard backing towards the drive-thru. He grabbed his shotgun. “Screw ME over with the fries?! ME??!!”, he screamed as he fired.

a reply to: NoRulesAllowed

Nice. One note (though it wouldn't be your fault, as I never mentioned it in the OP). Technically, in traditional drabbles, hyphenated words are treated as individual words towards the count.

We don't necessarily have to cling to that rule, since there are some 'drabblers' that do not adhere to it.

Good job!

Porajmos

Rikárd stood stoic as the inhuman growls started to permeate the air, but he wasn't finished yet. The can of gasoline was half full, and he was tasked to make sure that every last bit of the barn was soaked. He heard a faint crack from below. The MilkMenn had broken into the barn from the lab, hunting for human flesh. Rik quickly splashes the rest of the gasoline in the dormitory and chucks the can. They could always get a new one when they escape. He dashes down the steps, but stops abruptly at the bannister. Before him, stood a hulking, Morlock-like humanoid, a MilkMann.