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Day 9 #28Letters – WHO’S BAD?

“Mommy, are all people bad?”

“No, 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?”

Nodding, she asked again. “Mommy, are we bad?”

“No, 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?”

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Day 8 #28Letters – FROZEN EDEN

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.

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Day 7: #28Letters – VOICES

He squeezed his eyes tight, shaking off the voices inside his head.

“Don’t do 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.

He pushed 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.

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Day 6 #28Letters: The Window

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.

From then 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.

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Day 5 #28Letters: Dementia

At first, it’s the little things. A name. Some place. A memory.

Then it 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.

At first, you panic. But then, you become numb.

Even when you don’t recognize the face looking back at you.

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Day 4 #28 Letters : Guilt

She’s gone.

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.

“Hey, you.”

He lifted his eyes. She’s still here! He hugged her knees and cried unabashedly.

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Day 3 #28Letters : Buti Ka Pa

Apologies, but this poem that I wrote is best rendered in the Filipino language. 

Buti ka pa, naka-move on na                         

Samantalang ako, eto, hindi pa.                   

Kaloka, kataka-taka

Anyare sa ating dalawa?
Dati, nilalanggam tayo

Bigla na lang naging buro.

Bakit kasi kontrabida

Iyang ex mong may sira?

Binuko ako sa nanay mo

Di ako marunong magluto.

Sabagay, buti na’ng nangyari

Kesa naman laging kunwari

Sanay akong humawak lagi

Ng marumi, maitim na kawali.

Pero teka, ganun ba talaga

Kababaw ang iyong pagsinta?

Para akong ipinagpalit

Sa isang pinggang pansit

Puso ko’y tinapakan

Dahil lang sa aking kapintasan.

Hindi pala ‘buti ka pa’

Ang dapat kong sabihin,

Kundi ‘buti na lang’

Di ako naging kusinera!

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Of Drabbles and Day 2: #28Letters

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 before.” 

He shows off his toothless grin.

“I can roll.”

“And lose you too?”

“You won’t.”

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.

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Day 1: #28Letters February 2019 Writing Challenge

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?”

Shoulders shrugging.

Breath exhaling.

“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?”

“Not possible.”

“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.

“You…and me.”


“But it isn’t possible, is it? Because you’re in love with someone else.”