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)

My Favourite Accessory

by Logan

You're too much cologne — overbearing and not the least bit complimentary. I dunno if you know it, really. I'm certainly not going to enlighten you to the fact that for as much as my things amuse you, you're the amusement. The gold-plating, the novelty diamond cufflinks, the leopard print satin lining beneath the charcoal-silver three-piece pinstripe. A thrift store Bedazzler.

In other words, you're very me.

Essentially, questionable taste and very annoying, but I make you look good — the only one that does. A little self-awareness might go a long way, Toru, but it's not nearly as fun.

Fear and Loathing

by Logan

Logan might imagine he's made people feel like this before, which is rather Deckard's point.

They discussed power. Pain and fear help, and the older of the two had had a name to scream. But also the removal of rational thought until the world is constricting, the world is flesh, and all John can think about is the knife and its ecstasy and what it's doing to him. He wants to beg. Let me give you my eyes, let me use my hands on you. Because slicing to the heart was always going to be a big disappointment.

For anyone.

Happiness: On Top

by Logan

According to the best scientists in the world (probably), happiness is stimuli, neurological response, a release of flooding chemicals into synapses and then the body's stupid-dog tail wagging response. Happiness is also making her blush and making him shudder, and being on top, and a really nice pair of Versace blue jeans. Happiness is usually expensive for how cheap it really is.

But it's nothing without euphoria, snowstorm endorphins, without the finer tunes of dopamine and serotonin, the tickle sensation under flesh, the race of hot blood, the ache in loins. Surface giddiness, damp skin, unseeing eyes. Happiness is chemical.

Red Card

by Logan

Worth it. Worth getting up that fucking early, worth her mood at having to get ready at dawn, worth it when it's cold and the strain in muscles when you do laps around the field. Worth it for the scent of wet grass, dirt beneath your fingernails, competitive fire and being a hero.

Worth it too when some other kid gets the way of winning.

Worth letting your temper get away from you, knuckles popping dislocated— worth it— when it cuts against the kid's teeth and the ref blows the whistle. Kid grimaces with pinked teeth. Red card.

Worth it.

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