Zombie Drabble #154 “Til Death Do Us Part”

There’ll be a cure, eventually. It’ll be on the radio one day, oh, government scientists have cracked the mystery of the zombie plague and we’ll be airdropping it to a field near you. And I’ll go get it no matter how hard it is or how far, and I’ll give it to her, and she’ll get better. She’ll be my Carlotta again.

Until then, the handcuffs on the chain will have to do. She’d forgive me, if her head was right. One day she’ll understand. This will all be just a nightmare we got through together, locked in the cellar.

Zombie Drabble #153 “Meeting Engagement”

We’d been creeping along all day, through drainage ditches and behind houses. We were heading north into the countryside, almost out of ammo, feeling like we might just survive if we didn’t make any mistakes.

Philly motioned for everyone to stop, and for silence. As if we needed to be told to be quiet. I crawled up and peered over his shoulder: the ditch ended, and we’d have to cross a road. There were a dozen or so zombies standing around a stain that had been a human being.

There was no way around. We’d have to go through them.

SF Drabble #145 “First Contact”

“There’s a lot more of them now.”

“Yeah.” The Captain toggled his comm button. “Gregg, how are you doing getting into the suit?”

Almost there boss.”

The locals, small quadrupeds in the thousands, were crowding around the base of the lander now. The external microphones were picking up a wailing chant and rhythmic drumming. “They’re pretty worked up.”

I feel like a rock star.”

The Captain laughed. “Okay, but even money they tear you apart.”

There was a pause. “You’re such a pessimist. Opening the hatch now.”'

“Roger that,” answered the Captain. “Try not to fuck this up.”

Good advice.”

SF Drabble #144 “Come Together, Right Now”

The alien guru said to me, “take this and you will understand.” His pseudopod reached out and deposited a tiny white pill in my hand. I’d come all this way. I put it in my mouth and swallowed it without drinking.

I don’t know how to describe to you what happened next. I remember reaching out and handing the strange biped visitor a hwou. I remember watching his eyes close and I remember reaching out and enveloping him. I remember blending and I remember the pain of separation beginning.

That explanation doesn’t do it justice. I want to try again.

Fantasy Drabble #100 “Bone Thugs”

“They look impressive—”

“Thank you.”

“—but can they fight?”

The necromancer smiled. “Watch.”

One of the guards tossed the hapless farmer into the pit. At first he wouldn’t pick up the sword, but when he saw the skeletons clattering toward him like hell’s own marionettes, he changed his mind. It didn’t help much; the weapon was quickly knocked from his hand. Their bony claws ripped him apart in moments.

“How much?”

“I can give you a score for ten gold pieces. If you want more, they will be cheaper.”

“And if I want a thousand?”

The necromancer laughed. “Cheaper still.”

Fantasy Drabble #99 “The Mouth Of Hell”

“Your Majesty, they come again.”

“I can see, I can see. Send someone down to Baron Shalmed, tell him to reinforce the sunward rim.”

“Your Majesty!” the guardsman horse galloped away on his horse down the slope.

“There seems to be an inexhaustible supply of them,” the King observed. “How goes the attempt to close the rift?”

“My Liege,” answered an advisor, “the sorcerers believe they can do as you ask, but they need more time.”

“My army withers. These horrors will soon escape into the countryside. Make sure they understand.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“And may the Gods help us.”

Zombie Drabble #152 “Liquor Loft”

We spent the night in the liquor store, holed up in the stockroom. Rick and that Vietnamese kid from the Rec, I forget his name, they managed to get the front door blocked, and poured a bunch of alcohol out there to try to hide our scent. They haven’t come knocking yet, and there are a lot out there, so, I guess it’s working.

The plan is to make Molotovs, burn our way to the church. Mr. Carbini has the key to the white school bus. If it’s even still there.

I’m wishing I had prayed more over the years.

Zombie Drabble #151 “Bloom Hill”

She had called down to the gate house, politely suggesting that Jose close the gates, just for now, and deny admittance to anyone without a Bloom Hill Homeowner’s Association card. It was just a suggestion; though as Chairperson of the Association Mrs. Reed’s suggestions carry a great deal of weight.

Jose closed the gate, but apparently after that he left his post. There would need to be something done about that once this all blew over. After all, he may have family, but the Association is generously paying him several dollars more than minimum wage per hour to protect it.

SF Drabble #142 “Table for Two”

Clancey was wiping the table with a towel when I walked over. She shook her head and said, “I don’t know why you let them in here.”


“The Aglians. God, always such a mess.”

“Secretions. It’s involuntary. Those suits they wear absorb most of it, recycle the moisture for drinking water. But some leaks out.”

She was on her third towel, and had moved on to wiping down the chairs. “It’s disgusting. I’m going to have to mop this whole section. Honestly, boss, can’t you tell them to go somewhere else?”

I just smiled. “Their money spends just fine.”

SF Drabble #143 “Big Plans”

Just to get into low Earth orbit, you have to jump through so many U.N. hoops that you feel like a circus seal. The forms alone are enough to dissuade most people with only a casual interest. To get to Mars, where the embassies are, there are background checks and personality tests and blood tests and twice as many forms.

To get onto a Polixaci liner, you need all of that, plus a small fortune. To actually stay on the liner as a passenger when it departs for other systems, you need a large fortune.

I’m thinking it’s worth it.