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.


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)

Insomniac's Vigil

by Daphne

It's never silent in New York. Even at 3 in the morning, there's the rumble of the subway beneath asphalt, the shrill whistle of someone hailing a cab, the howl of a siren, the thrum of electricity and energy everywhere.

From her perch on a roof, she watches this time of transition.The lights in the buildings flicker on and off like the blinking lights of a Christmas tree. The windows of those going to bed go black, while the windows of those just waking suddenly fill with light.

She rises, blur of light herself, to make her way home.


by Daphne

It was easy to pretend I wanted nothing but the touch of your lips and your body to mine. It was easy to see you loved someone else. In your pale eyes, it was always her I saw reflected, not me. In your dark room, there were not two of us, but three.
But the irony is…
She led me to you, in dream and in body. She gave you the power to call me back.
With her haunting your heart, an unrequited love, the odds were against us.
Now that she haunts your conscience, I don't stand a chance.

Happiness: Rush

by Daphne

The wind in my face. The salt on my lips. The shifting textures of water, sand, earth or asphalt beneath my flying feet. Feeling that everything chasing me grows smaller, tiny and insignificant with each forward rushing step I take. Knowing that I can leave my problems behind. Knowing that nothing can catch me unless I let it. Knowing that while danger may lurk, I am always one step ahead of it. It isn't fast enough to grasp me, that it can only grip the blur and wake of me, always coming up empty handed as I sprint toward freedom.


by Daphne

Alone in his apartment, she touches his possessions. Books. CDs. A watch. A pen. A framed photograph of him with another woman— one she knows, but does not know. One she's seen, but not met.

Her fingers drift over the photograph, as if she could read by Braille just what she means to him. What he means to her. Are they in love, these two? Are they fated to be? Despite all of her promises that this is not serious, is she keeping them apart?

Part of her hopes not.

Part of her that knows she loves him doesn't care.

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