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Prompt #20 - Creative


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The stars blinked, and suddenly they were in charge.

 

Things were better after the announcement, for a while. Sure, they moved into our houses, but hey, it was like curling up with a fur-covered comforter in winter. Then the new rules began. First, we weren't allowed into the better restaurants. Then we could only be outside in the company of the new masters. The leash laws came next. By the time we had mandatory spaying and neutering, most people didn't even remember being free. Some of us did, though, and we all agreed.

 

The Earth had gone to the dogs.

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Write a drabble.

 

What's a drabble? I thought you'd never ask... :P

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drabble

 

I only just stumbled across this today when I read a drabble that someone had put on their blog, so I haven't come up with my own yet. But I intend to... honest 0:)

I never heard the name "drabble", but we had snap "100 word story writing quizzes" in my Creative Writing classes in HS. I always like doing them, but I was part of a very small minority of the kids in the class with that opinion. :P

 

Here's one from my 10th grade CW class that I found recently:

 

Kevin sat staring across the quad, looking at nothing in particular. He'd finished his lunch, trying to forget what was bothering him.

 

Someone walked past, diverting his gaze. It was a boy. Kevin had never seen him before. He was really cute! Why couldn't he meet a boy like him? Suddenly the boy turned and looked at Kevin, and smiled. Kevin smiled back, he couldn't help himself.

 

"Uh, hi. My name's Gary. I'm new here."

 

"Hi, Gary, I'm Kevin. Welcome to Las Lomas!" He stood. "Like a campus tour?"

 

"That'd be great!"

 

Suddenly nothing was bothering Kevin. Not any more.

 

 

Colin B)

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100 Words

 

100 words seems too few for the things that I would say. The thoughts and ideas crowd the canvas, words like grim soldiers march across the screen and are blotted away; from existence to oblivion in nothing flat. Too early. Too late. Never quite on time: the muses can be such bitches. Darkness or light, truth or suspicion, historical lies or hysterical fiction: what to write on this cheerless night, alone but for the company of fear? Tomorrow and tomorrrow and the day after: all that we leave behind are our words. Inspiration or desperation? What will you leave behind?

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  • Site Administrator

Three great drabbles! Here's my contribution....

 

�I�m sorry.�

 

�Sorry? It�s a bit too late for that.�

 

�I didn�t mean it, honest.�

 

�Yes, you did. He meant a lot to me, and you killed him!�

 

�That�s a bit much. And I said I�m sorry.�

 

�I don�t think it�s too much. I used to love it when he visited our house. I used to love seeing him down the street, and stopping to chat. He always had a kind word and a smile for me... and you killed him!�

 

�Okay, I take it back. I didn�t mean it. There really is a Santa Claus. Are you happy now?�

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I never heard the name "drabble", but we had snap "100 word story writing quizzes" in my Creative Writing classes in HS. I always like doing them, but I was part of a very small minority of the kids in the class with that opinion. :P

 

Here's one from my 10th grade CW class that I found recently:

Nice one, Colin!

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Think.

 

It would have been an easy feat -- to just come up with an excuse. But when Jason tried to think of one, his brain drew a blank. What do you say to your father when he finds gay sites in your computer’s history?

 

He tried to think again, but this time, a hundred excuses wrestled in his mind, each one of them wanting to make their way to his tongue. It frustrated him.

 

“I was writing an essay about homosexuality, Dad.” Simple. Believable.

 

“I know.” That stopped Jason.

 

Looking in his father’s eyes, he knew... that he knows.

 

 

 

That was challenging. 100 words? It's actually only the first time that I met the word "drabble." Nice to meet you.

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  • Site Administrator

Excellent! Great last line. I didn't anticipate it, though others probably did. That made it even better for me.

I loved it, too, which is what kept me from adding my drabble for a couple of hours -- I had to try to think up a story that wouldn't look shabby next to that one :)
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Here's another drabble.

 

Friendships are like the layers of an onion. On the outside are occasional friends. As you peel away that layer the next layer has casual friends. As you continue to peel away layers you

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I saw him sitting in a patch of sunlight, and stepped out from behind the trees. He smiled and beckoned as I moved forward, lay down on the grass and placed my head in his lap.

 

I saw the dagger in his hand and death in his eyes, but not until after the blow was struck did I lurch upright, crying out my love and pain. Another boy appeared beside the first and together they watched me as I staggered, then fell before them.

 

"That scream was almost human. Here, you hold its head while I cut out the horn."

 

 

 

The BeaStKid

 

Enjoyable to write....Nice challenge...loved it!!!

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I only have a slight understanding of Chucky Cheese, but I got the idea :)

If you have a strong stomach, you can learn about Chucky Cheese "restaurants" here: http://www.chuckecheese.com/

 

If you have an even stronger stomach, you can actually go to one and eat what they euphemistically claim is pizza, surrounded my millions of screaming kids (at least, it seems like millions).

 

I have two little sisters, and before each of them arrived at the age of reason (about 6), they loved Chucky Cheese. Of course, I had to go along (dragged handcuffed, bound, gaged, and blindfolded).

 

 

Colin B)

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I have two little sisters, and before each of them arrived at the age of reason (about 6), they loved Chucky Cheese. Of course, I had to go along (dragged handcuffed, bound, gaged, and blindfolded).

Colin B)

Exactly my point. :P

Edited by Kanaye
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  • 8 months later...

100 Words

 

100 words seems too few for the things that I would say. The thoughts and ideas crowd the canvas, words like grim soldiers march across the screen and are blotted away; from existence to oblivion in nothing flat. Too early. Too late. Never quite on time: the muses can be such bitches. Darkness or light, truth or suspicion, historical lies or hysterical fiction: what to write on this cheerless night, alone but for the company of fear? Tomorrow and tomorrrow and the day after: all that we leave behind are our words. Inspiration or desperation? What will you leave behind?

This is great -- hilarious and poetic at the same time, and also it's exactly how I feel about writing... at least sometimes. A lot of the time. The muses can be such bitches, yeaah, I'll say! And historical lies and hysterical fiction was a good one too.

 

Write another one? :)

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Our Old Place

 

I like old cars and sand bars and warm spring days. Playing in the river in cut off jeans and drinking moonshine in bright star light. Warm camp fires on cool spring nights and passion that warms the chill of the night- making love deep into the night.

 

But things are not quite right even on this perfect night. This is but a memory most dear that painfully reminds me that you aren't here.

 

I can not be here again in the same place in the same space. It's too lonely even after all these years and after ten-thousand tears.

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I only have a slight understanding of Chucky Cheese, but I got the idea :)

If you have a strong stomach, you can learn about Chucky Cheese "restaurants" here: http://www.chuckecheese.com/

 

If you have an even stronger stomach, you can actually go to one and eat what they euphemistically claim is pizza, surrounded my millions of screaming kids (at least, it seems like millions).

 

I have two little sisters, and before each of them arrived at the age of reason (about 6), they loved Chucky Cheese. Of course, I had to go along (dragged handcuffed, bound, gaged, and blindfolded).

I was rereading this topic now that it's been resuscitated, and I realized that I had come close to writing a drabble with my response to Graeme. I've always liked drabbles, it's the exactly 100 words shortness that attracts me. So, here it is, slightly extended and with one spelling error corrected:

 

If you have a strong stomach, you can learn about Chucky Cheese "restaurants" here: http://www.chuckecheese.com/

 

If you have an even stronger stomach, you can actually go to one and eat what they euphemistically claim is pizza, surrounded my millions of screaming kids (at least, it seems like millions).

 

I have two little sisters, and before each of them arrived at the age of reason (about 6), they loved Chucky Cheese. Of course, I had to go along (dragged handcuffed, bound, gagged, and blindfolded). Now they're older and have no interest in Chucky Cheese. All I can say is, "Thank God!"

 

 

Colin B)

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The brats

 

are everywhere. As a teacher you meet them daily, as a mother, also daily. There are brats everywhere, but especially in the white trash ghettos here in town. By white trash, now, I don

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  • 7 months later...
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