Drabble

If you would like to submit a drabble (a short work of game-related fiction exactly 100 words), please @mail Queens with your submission, the title, the name you would like it to appear under and which category you feel it belongs best in.

Challenge Drabble for October 2018's the topic is Books.

316 String Theory drabbles written — and counting.


Authors

Abby (19)

Adel (2)

Anonymous (14)

Asi (1)

Astor (1)

Audrey (2)

Aviators (1)

Barbara (1)

Bao-Wei (3)

Bella (3)

Benji (3)

Bolivar (1)

Cardinal (2)

Calvin (3)

Cash (1)

Claire (2)

Colette (4)

Cooper (2)

Corbin (3)

Dajan (1)

Danko (2)

Daphne (4)

Deckard (6)

Delia (2)

Delilah (21)

Eileen (15)

Elisabeth (2)

Emily (1)

Evan (1)

Faye (1)

Francois (7)

Gabriel (3)

Gillian (12)

Hannah (2)

Helena (6)

Howard (2)

Huruma (9)

Ingrid (2)

Iris (1)

Jane (1)

Jenny (1)

JJ (2)

Jonathan (1)

Joseph (3)

Joshua (2)

Judah (2)

Kaitlyn (1)

Kaylee (21)

Kincaid (2)

Lancaster (1)

Lene (2)

Lexington (1)

Logan (4)

Lynette (3)

Magnes (1)

McRae (1)

Melissa (32)

Meredith (1)

Monica (1)

Murdoch (1)

Nadira (1)

Nick (1)

Nicole (1)

Nora (3)

Odessa (4)

Pandora (2)

Peyton (3)

Quinn (1)

Raith (3)

Robyn (1)

Roderick (2)

Ruiz (2)

Ryans (9)

Sable (2)

Stef (1)

Sylar (1)

Tasha (3)

Tavisha (1)

Teo (8)

Tess (1)

Veronica (2)

Walter (2)


Institution

by Joseph

The facility is an incomplete thing, but contained and functional. Whites and greys, bleach-bone edges and cold surfaces. He only gets to know the people and the voices to a fractional degree — Joseph becomes better acquainted with the institution in which he is kept and wonders why it feels so familiar. He has not spent so much time in hospitals, and this isn't rehab.

He sees Emile Danko's eyes in the stare of the doctor's light, the grey of the cement ground and the utter callous disdain and indifference of the locked doors, the sealed walls and mechanical routine.

Blue Gold

by Joseph

One of the first things she said was that his voice sent her back home. Though Joseph couldn't hope to hold up a mirror and see any of Abigail reflect back at him, not anymore, it doesn't deny that she's a pleasant memory herself. A cadence of the South in her words that land him in better times, a pleasurable hit of worthiness when meaning is shaped, the dizzying warmth of a generous soul.

That she doesn't have addictive qualities is and is not a blessing. You can still buy Refrain on the street for thirty bucks. Joseph has checked.

Blondes

by Joseph

Sharp words out of her soft mouth. To be honest, Joseph even liked it. You can't stay married for a matter of years without enjoying your honey's flaws too. The next blonde over was like looking in a mirror, except that Abigail figured out how to be a Christian in this city.

The only reassurance Joseph has for Kaylee is that he's forgiven murderers before she came along.

He'd thought of his wife when he'd looked at Harlow— blame the psychoactives for that. No excuse when it comes to Meredith, though.

"What are you lookin' at?"

Nothing. Not a thing.

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