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)

Kodak Moment

by Raith


Kids are one of those things, you know? I've got three myself, right now, maybe a fourth on the way, can't say for certain. They're a real handful, and sometimes, I wonder what the hell I was thinking. It's a pain to keep track of all of them. Especially when they go running off unsupervised so frequently. They can really drive a guy up the wall.

But there's an odd sort of comfort that comes with kids. Maybe it's the comfort of knowing they'll come charging through gunfire if it means saving an old man. There's your Kodak moment.

Mad Dogs and Fist Fights

by Raith

Look at this asshole. Just look at his eye, with all that bruising. All me, baby. Serves him right, he knows what mad dogs do to me. The vodka kind, not the furry kind.

Look at this blonde bimbo. Her own fault for backing up this asshole. She knows what mad dogs do to me.

And look at this crazy bitch. Why's she mad at me? It's not like I hit her on purpose. She knows what they do to me.

And in ten minutes, we'll all be best friends again, like it never happened.

We should fist-fight more often.

The Meat Man

by Raith

How many times has he said it? One hundred? One thousand? It doesn't matter anymore. He told them, he kept telling them. They stopped listening, so he stopped telling them. They'd rather worry about the snow than about me. And because of that, I'm free.

He's been wrong, whenever he told them. She is not his city. She is my city. I know her alleys, her gutters, her towers, her most intimate secrets. And now, I'm free to prowl in her deep shadows and stalk her icy night. You should have listened. Too late now.

Watch out for me, darling.

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