Installment number five! I may be making some changes with this file, guys. I'll still be posting the drabbles, but I'm thinking about posting flashfics here as well. They're slightly longer than drabbles, but not by much. Flashfics are, by definition, less than 500 words. Of course, all this depends on how many I write... Who knows -- I may just give them a file of their own as well. This'll help me out a lot, since I've had to put some of the drabbles I've written to one side since they just won't be 100 words without losing something. If I start doing some as flashfics, then I don't have to worry as much on the word limit for some of the more involved ideas. They also require minimum of plottage, so I'll be able to write them at work -- assuming I break the under 30 minutes rule. I can't really ignore customers if they come in. "Uh, I have 5 minutes left on my timer, think you can hold on that long?" Don't think that'd go over too well, do you?
Oh, and for any of you not on the Wild Card lists... I checked out the Lifetime site in the "upcoming episodes" section and it looks like they'll be rerunning the season 1 episodes in order starting Sept 11th. The normal midnight reruns they're doing now, not nightly... But for any of you who want to rewatch or tape season 1... There's your chance. I'm definitely taping. I'm missing part of an episode that's been driving me insane lol
Some of these are responses to improv, 5 minute, one-liner, or other types of challenges. As always, feel free to steal them for your own writing pleasure. Just remember to give me some credit if you use my words.
Drabble # 75
She glanced around the semi-familiar room before shifting with a grimace. The room was bathed in shadows, light creeping around the edges of the closed door. Muted sounds travelled and became white background noise that was readily dismissed. It was eerie, this room. She'd never been inside it before but recognized it and the knowledge strangers were moving nearby while she was confined... Not what the doctor ordered.
She closed her eyes and counted breaths, forcing herself into sleep as she'd done before. Half-images floated behind closed lids before a single shot rang out, startling her out of the light doze.
She hated hospitals.
Drabble # 76
Lisa leaned back, thankful for the solid door that supported her weight. It was ridiculous. She'd known he was in Chicago, known that might run into each other... she'd just thought that she'd having some warning. Instead he appeared out of the blue, in a job that made quite a bit of sense if she really thought about it, proving true as he surrounded himself by beautiful women.
All of the signs said that he was obviously off the market. It was something that grated, knowing that he could have -- would have -- been hers forever if she'd been just a little bit smarter.
Drabble # 77
The pavement gleamed wetly under the bright moonlight, the pale orb unobstructed by the few wisps of clouds drifting across the sky. The roar of a perfectly-tuned engine split the silence and a black car sped by, spinning wheels eating up the disance between points A and B as the driver revelled in his need for speed. The leather interior pulsed with the bear of music coming from the stereo system and fingers drummed absently against the steering wheel even as adjustments were made.
Flashing lights and a screaming siren broke the trance and the car slowed. Another speeding ticket.
Drabble # 78
Zoe lay on the sofa, the emotional roller coaster of the past few days having culminated in a torrent of tears before she finally succumbed to an exhausted -- and thankfully dreamless -- sleep. The house was silent, her nieces and nephews out with their friends. There were no witnesses to what Zoe herself was unaware of: a beautiful woman standing over the prone body of the adult of the house. Her fair skin glowed and her skirt and auburn hair swayed in an unfelt breeze. She reached out, fingers millimeters above warm skin. "I love you, Squirt." She faded once again.
Drabble # 79
She waited, hovering by a desk on the outskirts of the office as she watched the action, wishing desperately for once that she could be in it. The office's newest employee, an efficiency expert named Mazie Grace, was talking to M, ever-present clipboard dangling from a casual grip. Curly hair ruthlessly tamed, sarcasm ready as she took on the world instead of hiding. She truly lived up to her name: she was amazing. And she was fascinating. Taking a deep breath, she approached the woman as M walked away. "Hi, Mazie."
"Uh, hi... Polly."
Polly all but glowed.
Drabble # 80
The rain pounded on the windshield and Dan yawned, fighting off the soporific effects. He breathed deeply, enjoying the cool, fresh air that drifted through the cracked windows. It mingled with the scents of cucumber-melon, wildflowers, and sandalwood. He shifted slightly, not wanting to disturb the woman whose warm body curled against him. She had long since given in to sleep and had made herself as comfortable as possible in the cramped confines of the car, her head finding a resting place on his shoulder, one hand over his heart, fingers slightly curled as they gently gripped his shirt.
Drabble # 81
Jenny Tisdel watched as her lover transferred her belongings from his car to hers in the early morning light. She was glad she'd accepted the invitation, even if it had been short notice. Time away from the pressures of 'real life' and work, nothing to concentrate on but a handsome man who made satisfying her every whim and desire his sole purpose in life for that brief, timeless weekend.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him to her as she kissed his lips briefly. "It's still early," she whispered. "Want to come over to my place?"
Drabble # 82
"I only wanted you to love me."
The words, softly spoken, died on the wind. They were spoken across a gulf, grass and leaves stretching between the two porches as the teenagers stood facing each other. Taylor shook her head. "Do you even know the meaning of love, Julian?"
"How can you ask me that? I love you!"
"If you really loved me, you wouldn't have done what you did."
"Taylor, come on!"
She turned her back on the boy she'd liked for so long. "Goodbye, Julian." She went into the house and closed the door behind her.
Drabble # 83
Dan offered a crooked grin to his partner as she straightened his tie with nimble fingers. They soon traveled up, wiping a smudge of lipstick off his lips, before cupping his cheek and then tracing the cords of his neck. "Don't start that again," he warned, catching her hand and pressing a kiss against it.
"Me start it? You started it this time!"
He laughed, keeping the sound low enough it wouldn't travel beyond the closed door. "Come on, we have to get back to work."
She straightened her clothes and finger-combed her hair. "You go first."
Drabble # 84
"So, have any of you ever done anything crazy like this?"
"Oh, sure," was her automatic response. It took close to a minute for it to register just what she had let slip to her co-workers and she looked up quickly. They both obviously had unasked questions. Sophia, under her shock, wanted to know what, when? Dan with questions of another kind: where and was there proof? She shrugged fatalistically. "What can I say? I've had a very full range of life experiences."
"Apparently," was the response she heard as she left the office without a backward glance.
Drabble # 85
She stopped in her tracks, looking at the bright red construction paper envelope waiting in the middle of her desk. It had started as soon as Valentine candy had begun appearing in stores. She moved closer finally. Sure enough, once opened, a handful of tiny pastel-colored hearts was revealed, each one with a tiny printing of typical Valentine's Day phrases.
I love you. 3 wishes. Be mine. Kiss me. Love me. Start now. Heart of gold.
Well, it was different... and surprisingly cute. Now the question is: who sent them to her?
And just what would be next?
Drabble # 86
He slammed the bedroom door closed, turned on the stereo to drown out noise, and flung himself onto his bed all in one graceful move. he hated it here sometimes, the bland suburbs blending until they were all the eye could see. The people friendly enough but most having this unidentifiable edge to them, a sense of belonging that he lacked. How could everyone be happy here? Did no one else dream of --- crave -- the adventures that the outside world promised? Or was that just another way he was different, an outsider, semi accepted because it's the right thing?
Drabble # 87
The leather holder was heavy in her hand as she placed it on her commanding officer's desk. It was joined by her weapon, mute testimony to a career in law enforcement that was now over.
She gave one last salute to a man she respected like few others... and left the office a free, unemployed woman.
Not for long. She'd already gathered the paperwork needed to begin her private investigation firm. Thanks to her former husbands she had the money, she had the know-how from police work... and now she had the time to follow her dreams.
Drabble # 88
Taylor watched as Hannah joined her ballerina friends, waving to the teacher before making her way back out to the parking lot. Hannah looked absolutely adorable, decked out in a pink leotard, tights, and a tutu, and Taylor's heart ached that their mother couldn't see the person that her youngest daughter was maturing into. A mother that Hannah didn't remember.
Taylor knew it was understandable -- Hannah was young... but it still felt wrong. And she'd change it. Susan Woodall wouldn't be forgotten by any of her children if Taylor had anything to say about it.
Drabble # 89
She sat quietly, the only noise coming from the rustling of papers as she shifted them. The sight of her poring over an open file, a mug of some caffeinated beverage within reach, wasn't unusual. She hadn't gotten where she was by slacking off.
What was different now is that it wasn't an investigation -- it was personal. To do lists, invitation samples, seating plans... The million-and-one chores that no little girl thought of when dreaming of a big, white wedding fit for a princess.
Ah, the price one must pay to make dreams a reality.
Drabble # 90
They stepped off the plane and her stomach lurched as her feet met solid ground. Sometimes she really, really hated being the responsible adult. She wanted to be back on the plane in one of the typically semi-comfortable seats as they leveled off, journeying to somewhere exotic, romantic, fantastic, and full of promise. Escaping from reality, if only for a short time.
Instead she was standing beside her partner in a blandly impersonal airport with the sound of jet engines ringing in her ears, taunting her with what-could-have-beens. If only she was who she'd been.
Drabble # 91
Chicago was fading from the rear-view mirror when she checked. The knot in her stomach began to lessen even as a fist clenched her heart.
Yes, she finally letting go of the pain and giving into the wanderlust that filled her blood... but at what cost? She was leaving behind her friends, her family, her very reasons for existing until now... and she didn't know when, if ever, she'd be back.
Would they embrace her or rail against the abandonment she'd just performed? Even though she truly feared the latter, she couldn't make herself stay.
Drabble # 92
A sea of white offered calming serenity from the chaotic colors of downtown, easily capturing her attention. She sighed as it drew her forward.
It was beautiful, peaceful; everything she'd always said she never wanted but something she craved secretly, deeply in her heart of hearts.
If she were honest with herself, it wasn't even what she was seeing; it was what it represented: love, commitment, a family. Things she sometimes felt she'd never have, wasn't meant to have for some strange reason unknown to her.
But she could still window-shop for her dreams, right?
Drabble # 93
He lifted his face to the sun, enjoying the heat after the cool office he'd spent his morning in. He was on his lunch break and he'd come to a small restaurant he'd found months ago.
It was nothing particularly fancy but the charming cafe-style, friendly atmosphere and vast, ever-changing selection of delicacies from around the world reminded him of the cafes in Europe. The real, out-of-the-way ones frequented by residents instead of tourists.
It was perfect for a small meal and people-watching as he sat back and remembered the days.
Drabble # 94
Everything was ready. Her bags packed, her husband no where in sight. She was thankful for that, unable to bear the angry, sad, reproachful brown eyes for a single moment longer.
How could you to this to me? he seemed to be asking silently every since that fateful night. Completely unable to bear up to any way he influenced her decisions.
She took one last, long look around the house that had been her home for both too short and too long a time... and picked up the two bags she was taking.
It was time for her to leave.
Drabble # 95
In dreams I walk with you
Your hand soft and warm, held in mine
Our hips touching slightly with each step
A casual show of intimacy
We easily show to the world
Outside our small circle of friends
Secret promises of things to come
Lay hidden in the dark depths
Of your sparkling eyes as you look at me
With a secretive smile readily gracing
Kissable lips and a face I stare into for hours
In dreams I walk with you
Miles upon miles journeyed
In the warmth of togetherness
Before I return to the wasteland
Of my waking life
Drabble # 96
Sparks of color light the sky, bringing the night to life in dazzling displays for the oohs and ahhs of children and adults alike as they lay lounging on blankets on top of dry, green grass.
Remnants of picnics lay scattered. A haphazardly packed basket here, a stack of used paper plates there, bottles of soda waiting to be claimed and finished. People replete with another holiday tucked under their belts lay back, lazily enjoying the promised show.
The heavy July heat had faded slightly and now came back tinged with sulfur as fingers pointed upwards and made sparklers dance.
Drabble # 97
The leather book was faded, leather cracked by time and worn by the many hands that it had been through. The pages were heavy, old-fashioned parchment paper, and scrawled on with now-faded ink. The elegant script chronicled familial history: marriages, births, and deaths listed in an effort to leave a mark, if only a name and dates, for future descendents to know.
It laid on the table, waiting for the pages to be carefully flipped over for yet another entry. The writer hesitated, unsure about the commitment this act called for, before sitting down and opening the book.
Drabble # 98
The stained glass window caught harsh sunbeams, painting the room in a pale rainbow of lavender and gold and pale pink. White linens and tanned skin glowed in the diffused light as new lovers gave in to the need for exploration. Soft music came from the stereo and glasses of iced tea sat forgotten on the table, sweating in the heat. The whisper of skin against skin, the caress of fingers, and the sometimes unbearable rough scrape of fabric against skin were the only things in existence. "God, making love with you is forever," one of them murmured between kisses.
Drabble # 99
It had been an old-fashioned family night with a modern pseudo-family. Aunt/guardian, her kids, her boyfriend-not-boyfriend and his until-recently-estranged father. They had indulged themselves in games, and now the youngest were watching movies as the adults sat around a table in a kitchen no longer drenched from a water fight.
A gentle touch caught her attention. "Zoe, come look at this." A book was held up.
'Dad? What is that?"
"Oh, this'll be a blast!"
"C'mon, Dad, not the naked baby pictures!"
"Aww, but you have such a cute little tush!"
More to come in the future...
Reviews are welcome, as always. Feed the muses. :)