So, we meet again. I always knew it would come to this. Me here. You there. A Drabble between us. So it has been foretold, so it has been written!
Written in 100 words exactly, that is! BAM!
Welcome back to the Friday Night Drabble Party! It’s the time of the week where you can let all your inhibitions go and just be free! FREE!
Of course, that depends on what your inhibitions are. If something inside your head is keeping you from putting your private bits in the mayonnaise then maybe keep that inhibition. That wouldn’t be so bad. Think of the children.
Hey! You want to see me read this drabble on video? Do ya? Huh? Do ya? Ya know ya do!
Then sign up for my mailing list! Only those on the mailing list get exclusive access to my video and audio readings! Drabbles! Works in progress! Confessions to murder!
Huh? What was that last one? Murder? I don’t know what you’re talking about!
Now, on to the 100 words!
Half An Inch
The doorknob was half an inch from Louise’s fingertips. Only half an inch. All she had to do was grab it, turn it, and she’d be free.
Terry screamed again. From far off, back inside the house Louise had fought so hard to get free from. And she was so close. Half an inch so close.
“Turn the knob. Run,” Louise told herself. Terry screamed again. Louise cringed. “Turn the knob. Run.”
“Yes. Turn the knob. Run,” It said.
Louise screamed and grabbed for that last half an inch. She never made it.
She had been so close.
Here we are!
Yep…here we are. Where are we exactly?
Oh, wait, I know. FRIDAY NIGHT DRABBLE PARTY!
You know what? Not only can you read this drabble, but you can also hear/watch me read it! That’s right, folks, each week I’ll be uploading a video of me reading my weekly drabble! Huzzah!
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What a bargain! So get to clickety-clickety on the pic below and sign your butt up!
Not A Thing
“I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this.”
“What? Dude! You can’t change your mind now! It’s too late!”
“It’s never too late.”
“Um, yeah, it is. You chopped his head off!”
“Then I call do-over.”
“I call do-over. We’ll just turn back time and I’ll not chop off his head.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Sure it is. We use a watch or hourglass or wibbly-wobbly phone booth.”
“Those don’t exist!”
“Those don’t exist. Time travel isn’t real.”
“Huh… You sure?”
“Shit. Okay. Well, guess we better bury the body then.”
Disclaimer: NO DO-OVERS!
Behold! The weekend is here! Let us celebrate with 100 words of free micro-fiction! The gods must be appeased by drabbles or lo unto all!
I have no idea what lo unto all means. It sounds scary, though.
Hey! Welcome back to another night of drabbletastic deliciousness!
No special announcements. If you want to sign up for my mailing list so you can get access to exclusive audio and video content, then just click above. Or check out some novels. Or audiobooks. Whatevs.
On to the drabble!
That’s how many shots it took to bring Clarence down. The man just wouldn’t fall. I emptied my revolver into him, reloaded, and nearly emptied it again before he collapsed to the steaming pavement.
“You shouldn’t have come here, man,” I said as I replaced the four spent cartridges. “You were warned.”
“What we gonna do with him?” Morgie asked.
“Leave him,” I said. “Gators will get him.”
“There’s gators?” Morgie asked.
I stared at the imbecile then shook my head.
“It’s Florida,” I replied.
Morgie nodded, not understanding.
Eleven shots to put him down.
Disclaimer: It dies at eleven.
I see you have come for the free micro-fiction. Good for you. A fine choice on your part. Very fine.
But, before we get to the 100 words of fineness, perhaps we should discuss something very important.
Yes, this is important. Shut up.
I don’t really have much to say about my mailing list except that I refuse to spam subscribers because, well, I’m lazy and don’t have the time nor inclination to bombard your inbox with junk. Basically, if you sign up, you’ll get occasional new release info, some special announcements here and there, and a monthly(ish) newsletter recapping all the exciting things that happened with Jake Bible Fiction during the month.
You can’t go wrong! So click the pic and sign your booty up!
Now, on to the Drabble!
“You know where the Morgan place is?” Harley asked as he leaned out the car window. “It’s not on GPS.”
The old man wiped his veiny nose. “Burnt down twenty years ago, son.”
“Right,” Harley replied. “But, I have to see the ruins. For insurance.”
The old man sighed then gave Harley elaborate directions. “Don’t stay after dark.”
It was after dark when Harley pulled into the overgrown driveway. A very large, very not burned down mansion stood ominously before him, every window lit with candles.
“Nope,” Harley said and turned the car around. “Big, huge nope.”
Disclaimer: Is that organ music?
Hey? What? No Drabble?
Yeah, sorry, but I was finishing the last chapter of my new novel, Stone Cold Bastards, as well as prepping for GuildCon. BUSY ASS DAY!
So, instead, here’s a bawdy limerick! Enjoy!
There was a young maid from Madras
Who had a magnificent ass;
Not rounded and pink,
As you probably think –
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass.
Disclaimer: This is an actual disclaimer. I didn’t write the limerick. Author is unknown. Phew. Feels good to get that off my chest.