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Flash Fiction
Challenge Ended
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Ended July 23, 2017 • 73 Entries • Created by Cara
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Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for desmondwrite
desmondwrite in Flash Fiction
• 336 reads

Fiction—The Immortality Cube

There's always that one friend who sticks to the group like a discount sticker on a used book, and who is tolerated by necessity because any removal might leave behind a sticky residue. Among Skye, Keith, and Kim, this was Lames, whose Mom had long admitted to being high when she tried to write "James" on his birth certificate. When Skye, Keith, and Kim came upon the Cube, without hesitation they excluded Lames from the Pact. And they didn't care years later when, at Lames's 89th birthday, he glared bitterly at their youthful bodies. They could wait a little longer.

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Cover image for post Just Call Me Red, by sandflea68
Profile avatar image for sandflea68
sandflea68 in Flash Fiction
• 255 reads

Just Call Me Red

During my first undercover assignment, I was excited to find that I must go into a pet shop and find out why all the pets sold to customers were ailing.

“Are these animals healthy?” I mouthed. Imagine my surprise when I was grabbed and locked up in a cramped room.

Knowing my police buddies would notice I was missing soon, I was relieved when I saw blue uniforms of my comrades through the key hole. After the door was opened, I limped stiffly toward their welcome faces.

“This golden retriever is the best K-9 unit we’ve ever had,” they said.

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for RD_Holden
RD_Holden in Flash Fiction
• 116 reads

The Devil’s Dog

Tick-tock tick-tock, Clark watched the massive black hands in their chopped arithmetical dance. His eyes witnessed the seconds pass. The midnight hour was nigh and the moon full. Thin clouds whisked overhead on the dark canvas night sky. An icy wind pricked his ears and nose like needles. Clark exhaled seeing his breath condense to a foggy ghostly air. He flicked back a wing of his winter night cape and checked to see if Reginald loaded the silver bullets this time. DING-DONG-DING, rang out then a howl only the devil's dog could make. It comes! The beast, it comes now!

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for malloyhughes
malloyhughes in Flash Fiction
• 189 reads

I can make friends, too

I’d been anticipating a relaxing day at the park, but the day took an unexpected turn after I met her.

She seemed nice, but when I told her I had to leave, she became upset. Really, really upset. I tried to explain that I had to run errands, but I was cut off when a menacing man suddenly slapped duct tape over my mouth and threw me over his shoulder. Stunned and finding myself tossed in a backseat, I tried to make sense of what was happening. Then things cleared up.

“Thanks, Daddy! Now my friend can stay and play!”

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for J_Ames
J_Ames in Flash Fiction
• 163 reads

You can make friends, too

"Daddy, my friends won't play with me..."

Damn, the girl breaks my heart. She tries so hard. If there's one thing I never want her to feel, it's lonely. I know the feeling too well.

"Come here, baby." I tug on her hand, and she sits down on my lap. "You want Daddy to help you?"

She nods and gives me the saddest look.

"Okay," I decide. "Tomorrow we'll go to the playground, and I'll help you make new friends. Better friends."

I just need to pick up some duct tape and rent a car.

"You're the best daddy ever!"

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Cover image for post ..., by WriterBuddy
Profile avatar image for WriterBuddy
WriterBuddy in Flash Fiction
• 142 reads

...

...

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for ruffmiriam
ruffmiriam in Flash Fiction
• 252 reads

The Day of Rite

Kreya waited in the airlock with the others for the outer door to open. She fidgeted with the helmet of her evac suit. Even though she was a child of the tunnels, of the deepest of the Martian mines, she felt almost claustrophobic in the suit, knowing that only a thin skin existed between herself and the relative vacuum of Outside. She had never walked the surface, only seen it on various school trips from the viewports on the upper levels, but now it was time. She was eight sols, and this was her rite of passage. She must survive.

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for Adamotaur
Adamotaur in Flash Fiction
• 82 reads

To Save a Life

They thought I was dead when I first came out of my mother, silent and pale as milk. Dr. Hall saved my life, mother says.

Father calls me his "treasure". My life is no more exciting than that of a knickknack on a shelf. I'm not allowed to leave the house, nor even my bed.

My brother hates me. He always has. Yesterday, I heard his screams as father dragged him behind the woodpile to punish him for complaining that all the money went to my medical bills.

I'll fix it. After tonight, my brother can be their only treasure.

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for Vee
Vee in Flash Fiction
• 133 reads

The View of Extraterrestrial Beings According to One Drosophila Melanogaster

Belief in aliens was common. There were stories of those who had been abducted never to return. I didn't believe it, out there in the darkness was nothingness. Yes, we had enemies who attacked us, eating our young, but we dealt with them, we were powerful.

As I gorged on the delicious flesh. That sweet, enveloping scent. There was no room for any thoughts but satiation and procreation. Then a shadow fell upon the landscape. The blackened banana tilted and seemed to lift. Was that a space ship up ahead. The metal door opened and I fell, fell into darkness.

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Challenge
Drabble me this. 100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely.
100 words of fiction. Not 99, not 101, not 847. One hundred words precisely. On choosing the winner, I couldn't care less about popularity and likes. I care about the storytelling. With a good side dish of solid grammar and following the rules of sticking to a hundred words.
Profile avatar image for Ferryman
Ferryman in Flash Fiction
• 139 reads

Almost Alone (a drabble)

"Abigail."

Her name was a barely audible whisper. Impossibly, she felt cold breath against warm neck; goosebumps were born the exact moment her comfort died.

Eyes locked closed and breath seized in her chest.

Such was the shock of fear that she didn't even notice the shampoo sting.

Logically, she knew that the bathroom was filled with hot steam, yet her skin was prickled by cold breath.

She remembered the door was locked tight.

She hoped that when her eyes opened, she'd be alone.

Stiffly, she rinsed, and looked, and was.

Almost.

Another whisper, her other ear.

“Abigail, come play.”

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