Drabbles: 100-word stories

Hunger (written by Universal Monk)

“Looks weird,” the little boy said as he poked it with a fork.

His mom rubbed his shoulders. “It’s just fish. Eat it.”

He took a bite. Then another. It tasted better than anything he could remember. Going hungry can do that to a person.

“Put your plate away, it’s time for bed.”

The next morning, the boy woke up to the sound of his mother crying.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“We ate blowfish,” she said as she stroked his thick black hair. “But I must have cooked it too long. The poison must have disappeared. Now we’ll be hungry again.”

END

The Lantern (Written by Universal Monk)

Fog hushed the marsh as Josiah trudged through knee-high reeds. Somewhere ahead, a bell rang slow and distant.

Then she appeared. Barefoot. Dress torn. Eyes sad.

She held up a lantern.

“You dropped this,” she called out.

He raised his own. Still in hand. Still lit.

The girl stepped closer. “You dropped it when you drowned.”

The flame inside her lantern turned red. Josiah looked down. His boots were gone. Water up to his chest. Breath shallow.

Behind the glass of her lantern, a tiny version of him pounded and screamed.

The girl smiled. “I’ll take good care of you.”

END

Anabelle and the Clurichaun - written by Universal Monk.

Anabelle was walking in the park and noticed something strange. She scooped it up.

“A tiny dragon!” she said.

“Nope. I’m a clurichaun. I’ll grant a wish if ya let me go.”

She glanced at a nearby bird singing in the breeze.

“I want to fly!” she said.

Poof! She shrank. Wings fluttered.

“I’m a fairy now!” she said. “Thank you!”

“Now you have to worry about stuff that you didn’t have to think about before.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Everything. Especially birds. Birds love to eat fairies.”

Anabelle looked up. The birds were louder now.

And much, much closer.

END

The Machine
Written by Universal Monk

I noticed Caleb Williams looked different. Skinny. Hair turned gray. Grotesque veins grouped up and bulged under his forehead.

“I’ve invented something,” he said. “It activates the primitive nerve centers of my brain. I can see other dimensions that exist and overlap our own!”

Poor Caleb could finally see the things that made dogs bark. Those strange shapes skirting the edge of night. New colors unknown to mankind.

Yeah, he looked different. That’s because he could see different. He could see everything.

He hanged himself on November 16, 1899.

I have just acquired his invention.

Now I want to see.

END

The Tomorrow Thief
Written by Universal Monk

“Ready?” the man asked.

Charlie Newburry closed his eyes and nodded.

“What will I see?”

“Probably nothing too exciting,” the man said. “Maybe birds. Hopefully you’re only going back in time for ninety seconds.”

Charlie felt like he was falling.

“I’m not ready!” he yelled, eyes snapping open. Swaying ferns and steaming earth.
He heard a growl and spun around just as the saber-toothed tiger jumped on him. Fangs ripped into his neck. Bones crunched. Blood sprayed warm across ancient leaves.

Just before Charlie died, he watched a flock of birds, startled by sounds of struggle, fly into the sky.

END