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)


by Anonymous

She isn't mom, but she is.

I can't remember what she looked like when I was little. Can't forget her eyes, they're still the same. She can still make me sit up straight and behave. I'm afraid to touch her, hug her, tell her how much she means to me.

I'm afraid to tell her she raised me as best she could, that she took an impossible task and succeeded. I'm afraid because she'll reject me. She's my heart when I feel less than human.

I guess I'm just afraid of showing her what I've become.

A heartless machine, conceived in a lab.


by Anonymous

When I was a little boy, people used to tell me stories of my mother.

They said she was brave, kind, and loved me.

As I grew older, I came to realize that none of the people raising me actually knew her.

They just told me what any child should think, and never spoke to me of my father.

It wasn't until he stole me back that I learned the truth; that my mother never wanted me and my father was a monster.

I spent the next few years resenting them both, praying for death.

Instead, I was saved.

Now I just resent you for saving me.

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