Tag Archives: Drabble

Cruising for burgers…

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The way I understand it: The creatures get onto vessels so that they can view me in my natural habitat. They have some reverence for yours truly, no small amount of fear and (might I be so bold), a little awe.

Theirs is a strange existence. They cover their bodies in fabric, move about on a two dimensional plain and have seemingly restricted themselves to the smallest bit of the planet.

Disproportionately loud.

Not particularly tasty.

Far inferior to the blubbery, bewhiskered rodents that serve themselves up for lunch on a daily basis, but then in ever food-chain there are apex predators and there are light snacks…

 

Written for: Friday fictioneers

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Lovely day for a beheading…

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Reginald was strangely blasé about the whole thing.

Occupational hazard of being part of the landed gentry, I guess!

He’d had a good run of it, taxing the hell out of his serfs and romping in the haystacks with an array of morally elastic wenches. So what if his coiffured head was shortly to be separated from his velvet covered body?

He was led to a field awash with spent chopping blocks and the discarded cadavers of his extended family.

‘Looks like you won’t be getting those 30 guineas I owe you uncle Francis!’ Reginald gave the executioner a wink. ‘Man, I’m tired of winning!’

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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Nemesis Convention…

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‘Last year’s Nemesis Convention was held in a heavily fortified hollowed out volcano!’

Des Troyer slammed the door on his cape and cursed.

‘Times are tough my friend,’ Kat Tastrophy replied menacingly.

‘It looked way nicer on the invitation.’

‘Well, that’s what happens when you miss your sales targets three quarters in a row. Successfully dissolve a few more superheroes in acid and we’ll see about holding the next meeting in space.’

‘Oh no, look, Booby-Trap’s car’s parked out front!’

‘That’ll be where the front door went.’

‘God I hate that infernal temptress, always out-blackmailing me…And I never know where to look!’

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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They grow up so fast…

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August 12th – A day that would forever go down in infamy – the day we harnessed the power of children’s adrenaline. It seemed so simple at the time – take them to a fairground, let them become excited, or better still, a little afraid, (painlessly) extract the chemicals from their tiny bodies and convert them into chalky bricks of unbridled combustibility.

The energy crisis was solved over night!

But then came the drawbacks.

The children became bored with their escapades and ceased to produce the desired fight or flight responses, but by then the world’s economy had been built upon their backs, forcing scientists to find new and ingenious ways to stimulate the release of hormones, heightening tolerance, pumping up body mass and creating something wholly other – unwieldy, petulant and indestructible.

If only we’d gone with green energy, or fossil fuels, or even good ole nuclear – anything but this…

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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Filters…

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What little effort it would take to snip the silk strings and banish you from my home – a fleeting act of domesticity.

But what if I leave you be? Let the web reach out and encroach, let the dust reclaim…

Let the phone ring to silence…

…the friends fall away…

…the Career careen off the rails into sidings.

Liquidate and eek out – conventions unbinding.

Unkempt, bedraggled, utterly free.

Not dementia or defeat.

Something other.

Something…

The moment passes

A duster makes light work of a spider’s domain.

A fever dream is, once again, held at bay…

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers 

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Insect Overlords…

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George emerged from his cell with a skip in his step.

‘Proboscis Saturday!’

All the S’s.

Sssssssss.

So much better than ‘Compound Eye Wednesday‘ – No alliteration there.

Sure, he’d have to listen to Gary banging on about how he used to be a hedge-fund manager, but the work was easy and he could let his mind wander, such as it was.

The apocalypse had been a positive boon to the intellectually challenged – an affirming experience – the great leveller.

And as for those with a proclivity for submissive activities…well!

George scrubbed away with a big fat smile on his silly ole face.

Gary mumbled something impenetrable about investing in derivatives…

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers 

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Donde es Wally?

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Down broken back-roads and over hostile territory the journalist journeyed, till finally he arrived at a one-horse town and a nameless bar. There he encountered a sunken-eyed, bearded vagabond.

‘I knew someone would find me eventually,’ the vagabond growled.

‘I’ve come a long way to hear your story.’

‘Mine is a tale of hardship and woe. Have you any idea what it’s like to endure the indignity of being constantly pointed out in a crowd, no anonymity, the butt of every joke and sarcastic aside – forcing you at last into exile?’

‘Why didn’t you just take off the stripy top and stop wearing that bobble hat?’

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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