Man with an obscure newspaperThe man sits like he owns the bench, maybe he does. His glasses sink on his nose and he holds the newspaper in front of him like a sail, glancing around it and failing to comprehend the text. Perhaps the paper is upside down, so he flips it and tries again. Still the glyphs don't form any meaningful patterns. This is getting quite confusing. It's possible that the man is drunk. On the other hand papers often don't make any sense. Perhaps neither of them is making any sense and this thought makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.Man with an obscure newspaper8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
Apple CiderApple Cider8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
On grandmas porch there sit three sisters, watching the apples fall through November.
The eldest teaching the youngest how to fit suspicion under her eyebrow; essential to any gossipers repertoire. The third stands skeptically, scoffing at apple-tree memories.
Shes still young enough to be ashamed of her childhood. Secretly, she still finds splendor in the exact way a rotten apple splatters when thrown through a chain-link fence.
The teapots whistle lures her into the kitchen.
The eldest asks for earl grey, with milk; hot chocolate for the smallest, while the girl in between unearths the last packet of apple cider.
The End of a BeginningJay had been waiting for the butterfly to emerge from its cocoon. When the day finally came...The End of a Beginning8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
A blue butterfly slowly crept out and fluttered its wings. Freedom at last! It longed to fly in the sky, flit among the flowers...
Jay clamped his fingers over the butterfly's wings. In wicked delight, he tore the wings off one by one, and threw the now-wingless butterfly to the ground.
Mission accomplished! Now he had blue wings to add to his collection.
The torn butterfly was left to die; its short-lived freedom lost, its dreams gone... forever.
The end of a beginning.
One afternoon-One afternoon8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
In our two-room apartment, on the sixth floor of a gray building mercilessly being baked by an August afternoon, I heard it coming. Leaching through the thin windows, that rattled under the stress of sound and pressure, a battle cry crescendo: a roar that would bring with it terror and pain, fueling a constant, ever-present hate.
Closer and closer, in that instant I could sense it drawing near, that faint whistle trailing the imminent. It was then that I realized it was too late and in a great flash of sight and sound, I lost my mother and my arm.
Anticipation and PatienceAnticipation and Patience8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
"This is so odd."
"Do you know what . . ."
"No, not really."
In the dank basement, we examined the victim before us. It had been long dead, now white as a sheet. It had been chosen specifically for this task, shipped to us by the only dealer down the road who sold them. We held our sharpened tools in our hands, ready to mar the unfortunate object. I looked to her, exasperated.
"Do you know what we're working on?"
She hesitated. ". . . A . . . dr—drabble, I think. . . or something . . ."
I sighed, guessing this was going to take longer than I had hoped.
applying pressureringing. ringing. ringingapplying pressure8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
finally; a voice.
"hey, it's me..."
"look, it's over. im not coming by anymore. "
a cockroach passes. i squash it.
someday the very same pressure you applied to me will be applied to you.
And then my phone will ring
you. trapped. howling:
"PLEASE PICK UP!" and i will, spouting comfort:
hearts shatter. everything's not lost.
it won't hurt as much the next time.
but i'll be lying; i hope it will.
the flame is forever gone, and we are all left mashed by love and the lack of it.
It rained tears that dayFrom that last day of monsoon, her life fell into a complete darkness. They felt she wouldn't open her eyes. He's gone.It rained tears that day8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
Both loved rains. In monsoons, their routine was getting and having fun. He always asked, "How can a sky cry?" She always replied with a smile accompanying clouds' joyful tears for their unconditional love. But now of grief as he was dead in a blast.
Sarah, a mother in the lap of her mother, finally opened her wet eyes. All she saw was darkness of eternal night and his son as a shining star in the sky.
For Morality's Sake"It's not so simple as that."For Morality's Sake8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
"It is--just do it."
I regard the old man, snoozing in his chair, head tilted back as his soft, continuous
snores echoed about the room.
Then my eyes returned to that sharp dagger clenched between my greedy fingers, wondering.
This man was an asshole, anyway. What could it hurt?
As my gaze fell upon my father's chest, I wondered if this was the retribution he
really deserved. My hand drew upwards to take that final plunge.
I couldn't do it.
As I dropped the dagger and left, my brother did instead.
Three Drabbles in the Key of E I cannotThree Drabbles in the Key of E8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
That lump in the back of the throat was dry and full of the sordid lies she thought had released. She tried to console herself, full of a pulsing force of unknown tension that held back her tears – no matter how much he snarled and yearned for her smiles, she would not give.
And was he angry. Nostrils flared and muscles taught; the world could have broken from his fury.
But nothing moved
And nothing was said
A mocking bird cried out. She turned away from his curses and spittle, holding back her tears.
Rejection was not an easy business.
A Day in the Park
"Hold on tight-"
"And don't let go-"
They spun faster and faster in a circle, perpetually gaining on each other as they held on in the center. The sky around her blurred, as did his face (despite how much she tried to focus). Her laugher spewed to the sky, and she could not feel her toes.
One Santa Down...Christmas morning:One Santa Down...8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
"Mom, where's daddy?" the eight year old girl asked.
"Daddy's sick in bed, so we have to do Christmas without him. We can't let all that Santa's done go to waste... He traveled all the way from the North Pole for us."
"Mom, where is the North Pole?"
"Only Santa knows."
The girl scowled.
"Mom, I don't like Santa."
"How come sweetie?" her mother inquired.
"He gave sis more presents last year - but I took care of that problem!"
"Oh?" her mother perked.
"I put decon in the egg nog, and he drank all of it!"
Drabble 2I was at the jewelry counter. I remember when the little boy came up to the counter. His pants seemed to be falling down. I saw why when he began to shovel the coins and few crumpled bills out of his pockets. He put them all on the table, briefly scanned the display, and pointed to a pendant. It was for his mother. He had brought only $21.63, and even that saved up for months. I wanted to cry – it cost $100. I couldn't bear to tell him no. I bagged the pendant and paid the rest with a smile.Drabble 28 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
The City That Never SleepsThe City That Never Sleeps8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
He stayed frozen in the street; glass and pavement in his hair, his belly facing the sky. The driver lounged on the yellow cab's door, a spider web marking the point of impact on the windshield.
With a phone to my ear and words entering the receiver, I noticed no one else had called. Save for the woman kneeling beside him, no one else had bothered to help.
Standing on Canal and Greenwich in 'the city that never sleeps' I felt oddly still as the audience surrounded us; they remained detached enough to circumvent participation, only becoming louder and larger.
Art AppreciationAcross the room a painting caught her eye. Just a landscape, she'd say, but this was intriguing. An oil painting that radiated a lush green. Every detail kissed by the artist's loving hand: the waterfall, the man at the edge of the water. Looks closer, man raping woman. She looks over her shoulder; a teenager stands, staring. He laughs, looking as if he'd been waiting, all along, for her to notice. She denies what he finds amusing and smiles politely back. Returning to the painting she sighs at the image, her image. If no one else would understand, she would.Art Appreciation8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
C'est fou.There's a bug crawling across the ceiling. It's small and oval and black. I know this because I'm lying on my back on my living room floor. My silver swan has swum down my neck and a small black foot soldier has just stabbed me in the elbow.C'est fou.8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
I roll over and chew my thumb thoughtfully. This doesn't help anything much, so I crouch upright, and my swan flies away from my neck in a hopeless silver bid for freedom. My hand trembles like a leaf, like it always does. I can't take my mind off of you.
Big city lightsStanding on the marketplace and listening to a street musician IBig city lights8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
have the time to look around and recognize the buildings and trees
surrounding me. The shapes are progressive and more brightly coloured
than I have ever seen before. It seems like a new season in
mankind's history has broken. The flower of humanity is in its
Suddenly rushing clouds surge to overcast the skies giving the
place a melancholic touch. The season has changed once more.
The musician stops playing.
"Could you play that sad song again? It reminds me of trees
changing colour in autumn, as well."
It's A Life For MeAh, when I was young, leave school, drop my sack, out the back! Dashed out the door before I could be cornered with a list of chores, and to freedom I flew.It's A Life For Me8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
Hop up, pop up, don't stop; we claimed everything, nothing claimed us. Sticks and stones, broken bones and a helluva lot of laughing. The kiss tag game, but I wanted to get kissed, but it was gross because my friends said so.
Convinced the store to give me free candy, sugar high, all mine. Greedy greedy, gimme gimme always gets. Only one problem.
I had to grow up.
Abstract coolAbstract, she wanted to be abstract, an artist, or at least artsy. She scaled the room slowly like she'd seen Julia Roberts do in that movie…. what was the name of that movie, nevermind. So she scaled and she scaled and she contemplated. Every possible meaning for every meaningless piece of art, she bathed in them. She chewed, gnawed at her lip, an act she imagined intellectuals did when they were deep, or at least lost, in thought. Her foot began tapping to the rhythm of her confusion, or frustration, until it mounted and she turned, to leave. I tried.Abstract cool8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
Drabble 1If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. That's what Grandpa always told me. And yet, I couldn't stop wishing. I wished for ridiculous things; for reasonable things, and for everything in-between. Things for me, for friends and loved ones, and for people I didn't even know. One day a wish came true. But it was a bad wish, I wished afterwards I had never wished it. You know what I wished? Of course not. Do you wish you knew? I wish you didn't wish it. But I'll tell you. You know what I wished? I wished my brother was dead.Drabble 18 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
InsomniacTrenches saved my life, but not my hearing. My friend was betrayed before he signed the forms that eventually brought him to No-Man's-Land. He lost more than his hearing.Insomniac8 years ago in Suture Drabble Contest More Like This
I'm celebrating my 101st birthday. 101 is more special than 100. When you reach 100 everyone thinks you're as good as dead. 101 is when you prove them wrong.
Since my hearing impairment I've lost many things, including my horse. The one thing I haven't lost is my dignity: I'm hanging on to the last thread, but the nightmares are stripping that away.