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

People talk about heroes like they're all gone.

Growing up, people talked about my father. Told me he was a hero, told me he died to protect his student. Now he teaches me, tells me about the man that molded him.

People talk about my mother, they say she died a hero too. Day I was born, it was in a fountain. Mom had a gun out while she was in labor, the battle was so loud they couldn't hear me cry. First sight were tracer rounds streaking through the air, first smell was cordite and gunpowder.

Heroes aren't gone.

We just needed time.

The Corpses of Fireflies

by Anonymous

When I was a little girl, I used to collect fireflies in a jar.

I thought it was fun, holding them tightly to my chest, watching them glow and buzz around. Then one day the glowing stopped, and corpses of fireflies would litter the bottom of the jar. I cried the first time I saw it happen, felt like I had become a terrible person.

It was the first time I ever really understood death, and understood that my father was gone. When my mother found out, she took me aside and told me something I'll never forget.

"Everything lives to be free."

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