Fantasy Drabble #210 “Winner, And Still Champion”

There was pain of a type he had never felt before radiating through his body. He staggered away from the still-twitching corpse of his enemy and into a cave mouth that would lead him down into the bowels of the mountain, where his cavern lay, where he could recover in safety.

Safety. It was not a concern he had had to consider in a very long time. A full-grown dragon need only fear another full-grown dragon, but Midz-Aset was wounded, broken; humbled. All he could do now was sleep and hope either to recover his strength, or to die peacefully.

Zombie Drabble #309 “Resumé”

“Oh, no, I went last time!”

“You’re going this time, too.”

“Now wait just a damn minute. There are people here who’ve never gone out on patrol and I’ve been sent every time. That guy hasn’t gone, Richmond, whatever his name is. How is that fair?”

“Richmond knows how to blacksmith. Used to work at Colonial Williamsburg. He can make weapons from scrap metal. Him we need. What did you do again?”

“I teach semiotics at the community college.”

Someone snorted, and there were titters of laughter.

He spoke as if to a five-year-old. “Semiotics is important!”

“Not any more.”

SF Drabble #280 “Full Body Scan”

They filed past Windt in a long nondescript line, faces as blank as they could contrive. He had been one of them, once, before becoming a Trusty, before getting his card and his uniform. They may have looked calm, but their heart rates always quickened while passing through the scanner. It was involuntary, like so much in life.

A little boy passed through, and his DNA was immediately flagged Anti-Soc, Non-Conform; that such a person got to be that old and still be walking around in public was amazing. Windt tagged him for Remove/Recycle and went back to his daydreams.

Zombie Drabble #308 “Defensible”

We started the trench on the west side, and the city is to the west, and so far we’ve been lucky: most of the zombies have come from that direction.  We ran out of gas for the backhoe three days ago, so we’ve been digging by hand. Right now we’ve got most of three sides all the way down to eight feet.

Inside the perimeter? Eight houses, a good-sized stand of trees, and some land to grow vegetables. We’ve been steadily bringing in building materials and supplies. It’ll have to be enough: odds are we’ll be here a long time.

Fantasy Drabble #209 “Red Chinese”

Midz-Aset stared at the creature making its way cautiously across the rocky slope towards him. It was a dragon, slightly bigger than himself, but of a type he had never before seen: long, snakelike, with a strangely-shaped head.

When it was close enough, he called out, in the old tongue, “Do you have a name?”

The interloper gave no response but a steamy snort; he intended a challenge for territory. Midz-Aset resigned himself: there was nothing in or around this worthless mountain he cared for, but honor demanded a defense. In a few hours, there would be one less dragon.

Zombie Drabble #307 “More Of The Same”

He looked down at the lifeless — and now mostly headless — corpse for a moment before walking over to the roadside to wipe the gore off the end of his baseball bat in the disturbingly tall grass. “I’m bored.”

“What? You’re… what? What are you talking about?”

“I’m bored. Every day, the same thing. Forage all the places that haven’t burned down for unspoiled food. Kill any zombies in our way. Try not to get bitten. I’m fucking over it.”

“I’m sorry the zombie fucking apocalypse isn’t stimulating enough for you, buddy. Feel free to check out any time.”

SF Drabble #279 “Saturday Morning at the Directorate.”

The phone rang, and Halbert reached over lazily and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

He was greeted by a series of strange whines and grunts, mixed with wet smacks and slurps, as if a wild dog was trying to eat the phone at the other end.

Halbert sighed. “Your translator isn’t working. Try unplugging it and then plugging it back in.”

There was a pause, a few clicks, and then he heard, “How is that? Can you understand me now?”

“Yes, it’s fine now. How can I help you?”

“Ambassador Klesk calling for you, sir: will you hold?”

“Of course.”