More Tiny Tales (Drabbles)

A drabble  (Wiki) is a short work of fiction of precisely one hundred words in length. The purpose of the drabble is brevity, testing the author’s ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in a confined space.

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Darkness

By G. Allen Willbanks from The Drabble:

“Why are you afraid of the dark? Darkness is the natural state of everything. It’s the light that’s unnatural. When God said, ‘Let there be light,’ he was imposing an artificial reality on a universe that had previously only know known total darkness and emptiness, and every force in nature is currently trying to drive us back to that original point of neutrality. Everything around us is temporary, and at some point in the future we will all return to that initial state of nothingness. It’s inevitable.”

“Maybe,” his wife admitted. “But, I still want you to replace the light-bulb.”

           
G. Allen Wilbanks is a member of the Horror Writers Association (HWA) and has published over 60 short stories in Deep Magic, Daily Science Fiction, The Talisman, and other venues. He has published two story collections, and the novel, When Darkness Comes.

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Tucked In (98)

By Will Gilmer from The Drabble:

“Irrational fear is a luxury,” Youssef thought as workers at the refugee orphanage checked under beds and rummaged through the closets of the other children. Each received a smile and a thumbs up signaling that their area was free of ghouls and goblins.

Back home Youssef’s nightmares never had time for make-believe. The realities of famine and war didn’t leave room for Bogeymen.

“Any monsters hiding under your bed Youssef?”

Youssef shook his head and pointed to the window. The confused worker craned her head to the stars, never guessing that when Youssef dreamed, he dreamed of drones.

         
William Gilmer is a writer and poet living in Michigan where Fall never lasts long enough.

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Going Home (70)

By Traci Mullins from The Drabble:

Dottie wheeled her small pink suitcase to the double doors and waited.

A smiling woman approached and asked where she was going.

“Home,” Dottie answered.

“I think you’re early for the bus,” the nice woman said. “I’ll show you where you can sit comfortably until it gets here.”

Dottie thanked her and followed her down the hallway, back to her room at Sunset Memory Care, as she did every morning.

“I once heard that a tiny story is like a work of art on a grain of rice. I’m enticed by the challenge to give readers a meaningful experience in a tiny package.” – the author.

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A Woman’s Will

By S. H. Cheatham from 101 Words:

“No!” She tossed her blonde hair and marched angrily away, the clop clopof heels on wood telegraphing her fury.

You’d think I’d asked her to torture puppies or renounce chocolate forever, when I had simply suggested—very kindly—that she change into something slightly less revealing for dinner with my boss and her husband. And perhaps remove a bit of the lipstick and eye shadow she must have applied with a spackling trowel.

“Honey,” I said, tapping tentatively. The response was a thunk as an unknown object (shoe? hairbrush?) struck the bedroom door.

Such is life when mothering a three-year-old!

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End