sweetie. Please don’t ever think that. Not all people are bad. Many are good
and kind, caring for others like us.” Sighing, she scratched her tummy. “Only a
handful of them are bad. They’re those who are only happy when they’d inflicted
harm on others. Do you understand that?”
she asked again. “Mommy, are we bad?”
sweetie!” The mother gasped. “We are not bad. We just want to live peacefully,
to protect our own, that’s all.”
The little bear rubbed her mother’s blood-spattered, pregnant belly. “Is that why you killed those hunters?”
Like a puny flame,
the sun was expunged by the passing of billions of icy cold, colossal meteors,
gobbling it up in one fell swoop.
When the heavy
pounding of snow stopped, Evie came out from under the volcanic cave where
she’d taken refuge, surviving by keeping herself warm beside the flickering
heat of the lava. Her heart sank at the sight of the freezing, white vastness
of nothingness. She shivered, realizing she was the only survivor of the catastrophe
which ended all life on earth.
Or was she?
A few feet away, Aidan, shaken and dazed, caught her eyes.
his eyes tight, shaking off the voices inside his head.
it!” “This is wrong!” “Think of the damage you’ll cause!”
Damage? His own voice roared, towered over them. Did they think of the damage they caused to
my life when they fired me for no reason? It’s just the building entrance. I’ll
just scare the owners! Hate, resentment rationalized what he was about to
do, smothering the voices.
down the trigger. A voice echoed outside his head.
His son and wife waved at him across the street before the bomb blew them off.
His feet tapped
on the window sill, finding rest for his tired, wind-whipped body. The mother whispered,
“Go away,” but abruptly stopped when her child grasped her arm, weakly shaking
her small head. In gratitude, he sang her a beautiful song. She rewarded him with
a dazzling smile.
on, the window remained open. Day, night, rain, or shine, he came and sang to her,
his heart full of love.
Until one day, he found the window closed, its curtains drawn. He understood. In grief, he wept, perched atop a tree. Wings folded, he sang a song for her…still.
it’s the little things. A name. Some place. A memory.
becomes a few names. A lot of places. Many memories. It’s like, you step into a
merry-go-round which has just started spinning, and then it speeds up, round
and round and round, and you get lost and dizzy as the objects fly around you
again and again and again, until they all become blurs, flashes, smudges, while
you remain rooted on the ground, confused and disconcerted.
you panic. But then, you become numb.
Even when you don’t recognize the face looking back at you.
Cursing, his knees buckled. He slumped to the floor. It’s Gina’s fault! He’d told her he didn’t want to see her anymore. But when she opened her door to him naked and flung herself at him, he hadn’t been able to resist her. Afterward, he’d been disgusted at himself for breaking his promise to his wife.
Someone must have seen him leaving there and told Maila, and she’d left him just as she said she would if he’d cheat on her again.
He lifted his eyes. She’s still here! He hugged her knees and cried unabashedly.
This is a continuation of my previous post about#28Letters, a Writing Challenge by #8Circles Creative Community which calls for writing a 100 word story (or a drabble) of any genre.
A bit of knowledge-sharing before I post my Day 2 story:
Like I’ve said, a Drabble, also called Micro Fiction, is a short work of fiction/prose/poetry with only 100 words. Typically, fictional works are identified by length of written words:
Flash Fiction – 100-1000 words
Short Story – 1,000-7,500 words
Novelette – 7,500-20,000 words
Novella – 20,000-50,000 words
Novel – 50,000-110,000 words
Epic, also called Super Novel – over 110,000 words [from Writing World]
There’s also what is called Twabbles now, stories written in Twitter. You write a story making use of the maximum amount of characters in the famous social networking service. A 240-character tale!
Do you know of any other fictional work based on word length? Comment below and share what you know. Sharing is caring!
But regardless of word length, these works of fiction should have the same attributes: they must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. So, for a drabble, imagine how hard it is to write a story comprising only of exactly 100 words (title is excluded in the count) which tells a complete story–not a vignette, not an excerpt.
A drabble is like any story, it should have a beginning, a middle and an end. The beginning sets up the story, the middle is the meat (the progression of the story) and the end provides the conclusion. Many of the best drabbles have a twist in the tale — the start and middle will take you in an expected direction and then the end turns that around.
The goal for writing a drabble is to exercise brevity, to test the author’s ability to weave a full, interesting and meaningful tale with a concise number of words. It helps develop a writer’s skills on the economical use of words. It also develops a writer’s craft through practice in a fun, challenging way.
Here’s my Day 2 story for #28Letters February 2019 Writing Challenge:
She hesitates, licks her
brittle lip with her blackened tongue.
“Go on, do it.”
“But what if…?”
“I’m always here for you.”
“You can’t walk fast like
He shows off his toothless grin.
“I can roll.”
“And lose you too?”
Nodding, she lifts her
rotting forefinger, scratching the skin under her eye. It wobbles in its socket,
pops out, dropping to the blood-splattered ground.
He dives, his decomposing
body preventing its further escape. She kneels, gropes for her only eye and
puts it back in its place.
“Told you I’d catch it. I always do.”
What do you think of my Day 2 Drabble? Is it funny, scary, or gory?
To read my Day 1 story for #28Letters, click HERE.
I’ve been under the weather for the most part of January and I’m finding it hard to regain my muse. This writing challenge came at a most appropriate time. It will push me to write 100 words every day for the whole month of February 2019, and may just be the boost I need to be able to continue the visual novel I’m currently working on.
#28Letters is by 8Circles, an FB Page for 8Letters, a creative community. Cindy Wong, a prolific travel blogger, writer and author, is the founder of 8Circles, 8Letters, and its bookstore, 8LettersBooks where Filipino-authored books are curated and promoted. Check out the link!
So, here goes nothing:
#28Letters Day 1:
“Not my fault.”
“Really? Whose fault is it this time?”
“How can we fix this? Talked yet?”
“No. Won’t waste my time.”
“Should’ve thought of that before.”
“Please, don’t start.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of this?”
“I don’t want this!”
“Well, what do you want?”
“How is it not possible?”
“I’m tired. I’m hanging up. See you tomorrow.”
“Hey! I’m trying to help here. What is it you want?”
A deep breath. A mournful sigh.
“But it isn’t possible, is it? Because you’re in love with someone else.”