scholar's drabbles
As part of my project to get back into writing this summer, this looks like a good idea. For my list of 100 items, I'm just going to go with whatever random ideas hit me:
list of topicsEach of my drabbles will be exactly 100 words long. No more, no less. Some might derive from a fandom, but others might just be random mini-stories. Hm, maybe I'll link some of them into small plot arcs. I don't know yet. :D Comments and feedback are, of course, much appreciated! Do try to be constructive with your criticism, though. If you leave a link with your comments, I'll be sure to check out whatever you've written and give feedback as well! |
001 :: sunshine
She felt the warmth on her face before her eyes passed the signal onto her brain that there was a bright light shining on her. Such was morning, a wake-up call stronger than any alarm clock. If she ever had to move to a place where her bedroom window faced anywhere but east, she knew being a morning person would become impossible. But her window did face east, and she was still a morning person -- for now. She rolled over into the warmth, seeking it as most people sought coffee. She yawned and blinked. A new day had begun. |
002 :: clouds
"Look! Quick! It's a dragon!" "What? Where?" "Aww, you missed it!" "You mean that one?" "Yeah." "Well, it looks more like a rabbit now." Silence. The breeze flutters. "Look, there's a face on that one." "Which? Oh, I see. I guess you could call it a face. Looks more like a mottled fruit." "You don't look fast enough." Silence. The sky begins to turn a darker shade of blue. "I like it when they turn all pink on the edges." "Me, too." Silence, a longer one. The sky fades from purple to black, and the clouds drift across the starscape. |
Mmmm, I can't wait to see the final collection. I've loved each one you have put out so far.
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Thanks, zazabar! I really appreciate you coming over here and commenting. :)
I'm mostly using these as a way to get the typing/writing juices flowing, and it seems to be helping. |
003 :: winter
That year, winter never came. Summer stretched on not only through mid-September, which was normal, but through October (we dressed up as beachcombers for Halloween), November (our trick of putting the Martinelli outside to chill simply didn't work), and then even Christmas, when the scarves and mittens stayed in storage. We had a barbecue for New Years', since it was too hot to use the stove. By the time Easter rolled around, we had given up completely. But in June, we awoke to find the yard buried in white and the heater going full blast. This was global weirding's winter. |
This is a lovely idea, and I'm really enjoying your snippets so far. :) Are other people allowed to do the list, too? (In their own thread, of course.)
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@Kiffle
Yep, they sure are! There is actually a stick at the top of this subforum about it. There are even some pre-made lists to help you get started, if you are interested. |
@Kiffle: Yup, lots of people have 100 drabbles. You're welcome to use my list if you give me as your source. (You might have to use a quote tag under Mene rules, but I'm not sure... That's why I made my own list. :D )
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004 :: red
Seeing red. I'd heard the expression before, read it in books galore, but never truly experienced it. Seeing red. It was intense when it happened. A slow build of rage, from the fast heartbeat, sweaty palms, uncomfortable breathing, to realizing that I was truly— Seeing red. What caused it? Blood dripping into my eyes? A build-up of capillary pressure? A mental thing? I found that I was wondering how it happened even as it did happen. Seeing red. I wanted to scream, to rage, to kill, but I could barely see past the red covering the world, covering his face. |
Yay, glad you are writing again!
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Me, too. "Red" stumped me for a few days, and then in a fit of exhaustion last night that kind of poured out.
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005 :: orange
I always loved watching her cook: the smells, sounds, sights of the knife, the ingredients, the oils. "It's easy, really," she would say, her fingers deftly adjusting the onion to create exactly even mince. "You just have to care." I cared about food, but she was passionate. I remembered the moment I realized I loved her for that passion, beyond admiring her skill. She'd been carefully sectioning and chopping a bell pepper, an orange one. The color of it made me stare, first at the vegetable, then at her hands, then at her face. So beautiful, everything. I loved her. |
006 :: yellow
The field had once been full of flowers -- wildflowers, all colors, all shapes. I had come there often, as a child, to sit and dream, to think... and later, as a young adult, to be with my beloved. But then the war had come, and the field had been bombed, and my beloved had died. It was a year since that day, and my first visit to the field. I'd brought flowers, to mark the spot where we had made ourselves one. But nature had anticipated me, and my small bouquet fell softly onto a patch of yellow daisies. |
O.O WoW! these are really good! cant wait to read more!
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Thanks, sweet_serender!! I kind of write them whenever the mood strikes me, so you might not see many of them.
Oh, and in relation to your signature -- be careful about reviving dead threads, as there are rules on Mene about "necroing." Some threads can't be revived past a certain age. :D |
oh yeah... I only revive ones hat are only dead for a few days >.< I have my limits LOL
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Good to know! I think the lit forum, or other forums where topics have only one thread, can be revived indefinitely. :D
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LOL yeah cause most are stories hahahaha I should really try someting like this >.<
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070: mountain
They're always there. No matter what color, how visible, how beautiful or ugly, how misted with rain or covered with smog or obscured by the buildings which rise over the years in this city, the mountains are always there. They shelter me. They comfort me. A view of them from whatever high place I can find amidst the skyscrapers and suburban sprawl revives my point of view. My humanity has given me such arrogance with the world; it has allowed me to take Nature for granted. But the mountains are, and always will be, more than I can ever be. |
007 :: green
Green: the color of life, usually. Green, rolling hills; green branches of trees; green moss sparkling in the dew and golden glow of sunrise. But green is the color, too, of death: a sickly green, a puke green, a mold green. Horrible hospital green or asylum green. Yet it's green for go and green for prosperity and green for a sustainable future. And maybe Green for president! I'd never thought the spectrum would be so spectral, resist so completely the binaries it visibly fights. Metaphor, for once, has not broken down. All this is making me want salad for dinner. |
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