Welcome back to another Friday Night Drabble Party!
Hey, did you know I do a live reading of each week’s drabble? True story! But, the only way you can get access is to sign up for my mailing list. I know, I know, you’re afraid of spam. Trust me. I won’t spam you. I don’t have time to spam anyone. So, sign your ass up, yo! You’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain!
Now, on to the 100 words of super groovy, super grooviness!
Left To Haunt
Lost in thought, Gary faced the glass doors and stared into the street beyond. Throngs of people out for the Holiday shopping season packed the sidewalks.
There was a woman outside. There were many women, but one in particular pulled him from his thoughts. Her eyes. Cold, black, empty, dead. So dead.
He shook his head and turned. His wife stood there, puzzled.
“Lost you there,” she said and smiled.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said, returning the smile.
His attention returned to the street, but the woman was gone, only the memory of her eyes left to haunt him.
Disclaimer: The weather outside is frightful…
Welcome to this week’s Party!
I missed last week. I know. The Fam had the day off from school and I was busy editing Stone Cold Bastards. It was a busy day. Plus, I just wasn’t feeling it. I’m sure some of you understand.
But, we’re back this week!
Before we dive into the 100 words of most excellent fiction, how about you do me favor and help out some Asheville youths that are part of the Asheville Writers in the Schools program. Now more than ever we need to strengthen the next generation of artists and writers. Please pledge. If you appreciate the free fiction I give out every week, or just want to be a decent human being (yeah, I went there), then pledge a couple dollars. Those dollars could help build a new future. I think we could use a new future.
And if you are in the Asheville area on Saturday, I’ll be at Malaprop’s from 1-4pm participating in the fundraising event. Click the link below to pledge and for more info. Please.
Now, on to the free micro-fiction. Free. Free, free, free. Free.
Name One Era
“What’s that?” Lyle asked.
“Time machine,” Hopper replied.
“A time machine? Seriously?” Lyle said. “Do you know how dangerous that is? Why would you build that?”
“To go back to when this country was great,” Hopper said, powering up the machine.
“When the hell was that?” Lyle asked. “Please name one era where this country wasn’t ruled by greed and bigotry?”
“That’s easy,” Hopper replied. “It was… Well, you know…”
“You got nothing,” Lyle said. “Come on. Let’s get a beer.”
“1870’s beer?” Hopper asked, hopeful.
“Sure, an 1870’s beer,” Lyle said. “If that’ll make you feel better.”
Disclaimer: PLEDGE NOW! NOW! NOW!
The latest episode of Writing In Suburbia is here!
This week I am exceptionally rambly. I know, I know, that is saying a lot. But, hey, it’s been a weird couple of weeks and I needed a few minutes to just purge and get my head on straight. It’s all part of the writing process and experience.
What? Huh? WHAT? You here for a Drabble or something? That it? You want me to give you 100 words for free? Yeah?
WELL, NOTHING IS FREE!
Why? Because I’m going to ask for a little help, folks. Below is the stock plea for you to sponsor me during the Mountain Of Words campaign! I didn’t tweak the plea since I wanted to make sure you got all the info. But, beware! I’ll be tweaking this plea over the next couple of weeks. It’s gonna get crazy!
For now, read it, absorb it, act on it!
Then you can read the free drabble. BAM!
I am participating in the 4th annual Mountain of Words Write-A-thon to support the work of Asheville Writers in the Schools and Community. This non-profit organization changes lives with creativity and literacy by connecting teaching artists with children, youth and families through innovative programs for those too often overlooked and underserved. Funds raised will support the Family Voices program in local elementary schools, summer artist residencies in programs for children from low income communities, and the new online magazine program for teens, Word on the Street. (Find out more by visiting ashevillewritersintheschools.org)
Just click the link below and sponsor me for the generous amount you feel comfortable in giving—all donations are tax-deductible. I’ll be writing as much as I can for AWITSC between now and November 19.
Want to send a check? Make it out to Asheville Writers in the Schools, mail to 347 Kenilworth Road, Asheville, NC 28805 and put my name in the memo line!
NOW ONTO THE DRABBLE!
More Like Impossible
The way out was blocked.
Of course it was.
Helen stared at the cave in. She stared at the stacked boulders and the small rocks that trickled down from the top of the massive pile that stood between her and freedom. She stared at the improbable –more like impossible– turn of events.
The thing howled from deep within the cave, having caught her scent once again. Helen shivered at the sound. It just never gave up.
Helen climbed the boulders and began to yank the rocks free. No way she was giving up either. That thing could kiss her ass.
Disclaimer: SPONSOR ME!
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.