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.
Categories
Abilities (9)
Animals (15)
Challenge: Books (10)
Character Study (101)
Family (43)
Life and Death (19)
Love and Relationships (108)
Miscellaneous (4)
New York City (6)
The Resistance (14)
Authors
Abby (19)
Adel (2)
Anonymous (14)
Asi (1)
Astor (1)
Audrey (2)
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Bella (3)
Benji (3)
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Claire (2)
Colette (4)
Cooper (2)
Corbin (3)
Dajan (1)
Danko (2)
Daphne (4)
Deckard (6)
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Delilah (21)
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Francois (7)
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Kaylee (21)
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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)
Laws of Inertia
by Lynette
An object at rest will remain at rest until acted upon by an outside force.
Fingers slide over the red fabric. It's not soft. It's not cashmere. But as far as symbols go, it works pretty well…
An object in motion will remain in motion until acted upon by an outside force.
Those fingers wrap the scarf around a delicate, pale neck. It's never carried a symbol like this before.
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Lynette doesn't aim for equal reaction, though. She aims for extremely disproportionate reaction.
With apologies to Newton, of course.
Messiah
by Melissa
Just when I decided to give up the fight, another door was opened. I wasn't looking for it, but it was there. A group of people, gathering to fight for us all. To be active rather than reactive. Taking the fight to THEM. We are not hiding, a single log in front of a raging river. We are strong, and willing. Someone has to be the force that opens up life to the evolved. Someone has to stand up and fight for our right to live like everyone else. And this time? This time, that someone is gonna be me.
Why?
by Melissa
Why should I fight? Why should I suffer for those I've never met. For those who will look at me in anger and hate rather than murmuring a single thank you. Why should I risk it all when things will never change? These people don't care. We're the minority. Maybe we'll die out, one by one, or get 'cured' by those who would control us. It's the holocaust all over again, though there's no war to save us. No country invading to protect us from those who believe us inferior.
So tell me? Why in the hell should I fight?
The Den
by Melissa
It's such an unassuming place. Hidden beneath a butcher's shop and in an abandoned tenement building. No one thinks twice when they walk by. It's not there, it's not worth paying attention to.
But so much goes on here. We shelter those who need it. Keep them safe from the government that should be doing the protecting.. We care for the sick, who are forced to hide rather than seeking medical help.
We do important work here, in my place. I know I must share it, but it's mine.
And everyone who steps through that door becomes mine as well.
The Remnant
by Kaylee
When I am around them there is no good girl, as they tend to bring out the dark side in me. I have so much respect for them, even if Raith wouldn't hesitate to kill me, if given the right reason. Despite knowing that, they are the ones I turn to when I need people that can get the job done. I can only hope that I can learn from them, to be better then I really am. Even if misguided, a part of me thinks, learning from them, fighting by them, will help me protect those I care about.
Writer's Block
by Helena
I've been staring at this blank screen for fifteen minutes now and oh God what if I cant think of anything? They're counting on me to know what to say, God, all the kids who come up to me and tell me how much they admire me, and I cant let them down, can I? The words have to come, because if I don't have them, I'm going to disappoint everyone, and I don't think I can bear that. People need to know that they have choices. They need to hear the truth. Oh God, the screen is still blank.
All Around Me
by Magnes
I'm afraid my friends may be falling to pragmatism. The world's getting worse outside, and it's not just the snow. The Rebels are exposing the Empire, but who's really evil? Are there really heroes among us, or are they just red shirts waiting for someone to stand up?
They say I don't understand the world, but I understand a lot. They say masks are for comics and fantasy, I say masks are a symbol of hope and fear. My most recent observation about the world, other than pragmatism; not enough hope in victims, not enough fear in villains. No symbols.
A Promise
by Melissa
The world is a dangerous place, my sweets. Full of pitfalls and bad guys and accidents just waiting to happen. But I'll protect you. You may not realize that you have a safety net beneath you. You may not want a safety net. But you have one.
I cannot let you go through life suffering as I have suffered. I cannot bear to see you cry over a loss or a wound that will only heal on the surface.
So I will stand in front of you as a shield. I will take the loss, and the pain.
I promise.
Change
by Melissa
We're trying to change the world, one person at a time. One opinion, one life. Every time we convince one person we're not the monsters they believe us to be, we win a victory. Every time we rescue one person, save one life, we win a victory.
These victories, however small, add up, like drops of water into an empty lakebed. One by one we will fill the world with the truth. And on that day, we'll have won not just a battle, but the war. We will no longer be forced to hide in the shadows, whispering our propaganda.
Normal Life
by Melissa
Who wants a normal life? Normal is boring and repetitive. Just work and dinner and sleep. Maybe something fun on the weekends.
My life is exciting! It has action and excitement. Danger and thrills. No two days are ever the same. But no two days are ever the same. There is pain and loss. There is horror and tragedy. So many things witnessed that cannot be unseen.
The choice is between being normal and being an unsung hero. No recognition. No parades, no parties. Just the knowledge that you helped.
So who really wants a normal life?
Not me? Right??
The Ferrymen
by Melissa
It's a thankless job. No one can see what you do. How much you help. No one even knows you exist.
But that's the way you want it, right? That's the way it has to be. You couldn't help if everyone knew. If everyone could find you and recognize your face on the street.
So there won't be any autograph signing for you. No "I want to be you when I grow up" from little kids. Just the suffering and horrors that you try to avert every day.
How can you be a hero if no one knows your name?
Their Future
by Kaylee
I want normal and a family. To have my own child.
You want me to stay out of the conflict, to leave it to others.
How can I face my future children if I act like a coward?
I watch the children of today struggle, hiding cause of what they are. Hated and shunned. Taken away from their parents for having abilities.
How can I bring a child into that?
That's why I can't have normal just yet, I need to fight for a better future.
Then I can hold my head up high, knowing I did it for them.
Untitled
by Anonymous
We are the evolved underground railroad, silent freedom fighters and cattle rustlers. We are the people who quietly defy the laws that publicly deny your freedom to be. To be who we are, who we were born, who we have been chemically changed to be. We are in front of you, behind you, just to the side, below or above. I am, you are, she is, he was. We are fiction and fact, a proffered hand outstretched to give you aid and shelter you and start a new life. No obolus needs cross our palms to pay for your passage.
When We're Done
by Cardinal
She wants to get away, I know. Escape, leave this behind, go to a tropical island, watch our kids splash in the surf, happy. Sometimes I think we should.
Then I remember the thirty-six. I remember my conscience with her tongue cut out. I remember what Pinehearst kept in their labs, and what they did to Red in Madagascar. I remember the seer's paintings, the singer's songs. I know what'd happen to my kids if I ran away, if I didn't stop this.
We could disappear, but someone has to stop the future.
So we can rest when we're done.