Zombie Drabble #121 “Abort”

We formed plans, we counted rounds, we made our peace. The road out of town is choked with undead, and we knew it would be hard going, that not everyone would get through. But we were running out of food.

After an hour we were only two blocks down the street and our numbers were halved. The biggest, strongest, most confident are all gone: they were in the lead. With them their guns. We had to go back. We had to.

One man, three women, and six kids, one in a wheelchair. I’m really afraid that was our only chance.

Fantasy Drabble #76 “White Witch”

The snow collects on her hood, her shoulders, and slowly soaks into the fabric of the cloak, weighing her down. She steps carefully in the half-light, pushing her boots down into the deep powder and finding solid ground before shifting her weight forward. The bag is over her shoulder leaving her hands free in case she falls.

When the world wears a blanket of snow; when all is silent; when the natural world finally has our attention: these are the times magic still works. Out here amongst the frosted trees, she will work hers before returning to feed the fire.

Fantasy Drabble #75 “The Real World”

Even with a guide, it took three weeks of hiking just to get in here, with the cameras and lights and everything carried on our backs. We only have batteries for about two days of shooting, but by then the crew should have the solar chargers set up.

The Wood Elves are being fairly accommodating. Well, the younger ones are. Illya is only 134. She’s excited; giving us ideas for segments, questions to ask. Her mother, Unaea, is almost a thousand. She thinks a reality show is a terrible idea. The last time she saw humans they were sword-wielding Crusaders.

Fantasy Drabble #74 “Frank’s Wild Years”

When I was drinking, I would see things. It took years before I realized that I wasn’t imagining them, that they were actually there.

I set up cameras because I had my doubts. It’s five hours of nothing, and then the little guys bring me in, blitzed out of my mind, and put me to bed. They tuck me in, then straighten up. One of them even waves at the camera.

I quit drinking soon after that. Now that I’m sober I don’t see them anymore. I guess it’s because they don’t come around: no need to look after me.

SF Drabble #113 “A Better Her For A Better You”

I ordered one of those new companion robots. I had money; a relative had passed on and left me 50k. She came in a seven foot crate. I felt conspicuous as my neighbors watched the delivery guys carry it in from the truck.

Their slogan is accurate. Within a week she had me shaving every day and looking in the classifieds for a better job. I do more chores around the house than I did when I lived alone. We take turns cooking; I’m getting better at it.

It’s been a month. We haven’t even gone all the way yet.

SF Drabble #112 “Lonesome Red Planet”

“Well.” She was already half in her environment suit for the short walk over to the landing pad.

“I guess they’re ready to go.” I said.

She nodded. “Are you sure you won’t come with? It’ll be three months before another supply ship comes through…”

“I’m staying. I don’t have my two years yet.”


“Got to get paid.”

“Sure.” She paused a minute, and then said again, “well.”

“Go on. They’re waiting.”

I watched her until she got up the ladder, just in case she slipped on the dust. The dust is our biggest problem here. Gets into everything.