So, sometimes shit doesn’t go your way. That’s life, right?
Yep. That’s why there’s the Friday Night Drabble Party! It’s not just about bringing top quality micro-fiction your way, but also about me getting to vent and exorcise the demons that nearly drive me mad.
In that spirit I bring you tonight’s drabble.
Punch, punch, punch, punch.
PUNCH. PUNCH. PUNCHPUNCHPUNCH.
Pant, pant, sweat, pant. Punch.
PUNCH, PUNCH, PUNCH, PUNCH, PUNCH, PUNCH,
“You about done?”
“Not even close. Just getting started.”
“Fine. I’m going to go get beer and smokes. Want anything?”
“Ice. Plenty of ice. And whiskey. More whiskey than ice, but lots of ice.”
“So whiskey, whiskey, whiskey, and ice?”
“Something like that.”
“Want a burrito? I think I’ll get a burrito.”
“Nope. Just whiskey and ice.”
“I’m guessing the ice is for your hand?”
“And for the whiskey.”
“Be right back.”
PUNCH, PUNCH, PUNCH, PUNCH.
Disclaimer: Watch the thumb.
It’s the Friday Night Drabble Party!
Possibly the only thing to get me past the post-Halloween blues. Most people get that day after Christmas depression, but that’s my wife’s birthday so we keep the party rollin’. That means in our house the depression comes on November 1st instead. The day after Halloween should be a holiday. It helps kids get past their sugar hangovers and adults get past their Halloween party hangovers. Make this a law now! NOW!
Or just read this week’s drabble!
“Wind speed?” Heller whispered.
“Twenty knots,” Mitchell replied. “South by southwest. Countdown in three…two…one…break.”
The shot was fired and hit its target perfectly.
By the time the bodyguards knew which way to look, Heller and Mitchell had broken down their hide and were heading to the extraction point. They had five minutes, tops.
The buildings were old and derelict, but still occupied. Heller and Mitchell watched every window, every doorway. The extraction point was just ahead.
Mitchell stepped out first then went down. Perfect head shot. The bullet ripped apart any chance of him realizing the irony of his death.
Disclaimer: A sniper’s life is always intense.
Dang, man, is it Friday already? Then let’s get this Party started!
Another horror/Halloween themed Drabble for ya tonight. It’s the most wonderful time of the year!
And, being this most wonderful time of the year, I am sure you are in the mood for more than just 100 words! Oh, I know you are. So how about you check out my newest novel, Z-Burbia! Just click on the pic and away you will go! Then come back and read some drabbley goodness!
Children Will Play
“Tinker Man, Tinker Man, we are calling you this morning,” the children sang.
They played their little game, holding hands, walking slowly in a circle. Their voices lifted into the Autumn air like dead leaves blowing on the wind.
“Tinker Man, Tinker Man, come on home, our darling,” they sang.
The body in the center of the circle stirred. First a twitch of its leg, a flutter of its hand.
“Tinker Man, Tinker Man, we give this form to thee,” the children continued, “For Tinker Man, Tinker Man, we want the world to bleed.”
The body rose. The children cheered.
Disclaimer: Nothing to see, just innocent children’s games. So very innocent…
Kapow! That’s right, the Party is back for another Friday adventure in Drabbletastic goodness!
I have a few coals in the fire that I’ll be announcing soon, but y’all will just have to wait patiently. PATIENTLY!
Until then how about reading a drabble? Yes? Excellent…
Curled about a tree, a snake sighs.
“I wait, I strike, I eat, I shit,” the snake says. “Repeat.”
“Not about fun,” the squirrel above him chatters. “Gotta work! Gotta set those nuts aside. Gotta dig, dig, dig. CAR! Gotta watch for cars!”
“Work is hard,” the snake says.
“No, it’s easy!”
“What?” the squirrel asks. “Show you? How?”
“No way!” the squirrel laughs. Just before it is swallowed by the snake on the tree limb behind it.
“I call dibs on the tree next time,” the snake below says.
“Deal,” the snake above replies. “Burp.”
Hello, Friday, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk to you again,
In visions softly- Oh, wait, sorry, got caught up there for a second.
So, as I write this, I am strangely in one of the most productive writing times of my career. Seriously. I am averaging 5,000+ words a day without breaking a sweat. And the words are coming easy. EASY!
The difference? New genre. Actually, I’m not sure “genre” is the right word. It is interesting.
But, anyhoo, let’s get on with the drabble!
The bleachers were empty; the crowd gone for hours. William sat alone, his hands folded in his lap, his breath mist upon the cold. With every exhalation he felt a little less himself; a little less there.
“She’ll come back,” Randall said as he sat down next to William. “Won’t she?”
William shook his head, looking at his muddy sneakers and frayed laces. He’d been meaning to get new laces every time he was at the store. He lifted his head up and looked at the October clouds float by the barely visible stars.
“No,” William finally replied. “She won’t.”
Disclaimer: Angst! It smells like teen spirit.
Posted in Friday Night Drabble Party
Tags: apocalypse, baseball, bible, cannibals, dead, dead mech, drabble, exclamation, fiction, genre, jake, mummies, mythology, podcast, ponies, rainbows, science, science fiction, scifi, screwdriver, shotgun, social networking, summit, theology, undead, unicorns, writing, zombies