Zombie Drabble #85 “Dawn of the Dead”

Early morning. It’s cool, quiet. Too early for there to be much traffic, were there such a thing as traffic anymore. I decide to start walking early today, get some distance in before it gets too hot…

I frequently pass the undead as I walk, and this morning is no different. But oddly, they seem to be sweating. I spend some time worrying about what that means: a change? Best to give them a wide berth just in case.

Later, I feel like kicking myself. They’ve been standing in their places all night. It’s dew, collected on cold, dead skin.

SF Drabble #59 “Top Dog”

The dogs had been afraid, at first, hiding in their crates and howling. They had spent their entire existence aboard the ship, with it’s cold decks and odorless air. Nature, the wind, grass, the limitless sky; these were frighteningly new.

But now, they love it. The two puppies chase each other around the settlement, investigating every inch as they go. They bark incessantly at the wildlife we released outside the fences.

The older one, Boru, sits serenely in the middle of town, watching all the activity. It’s as if he knows he is the alpha dog of a new world.

SF Drabble #58 “Circadian Rhythm Sleep Disorder”

The sun was still down when he woke. He fumbled for his phone to check the time. Four more hours.

Disgusted, knowing he would be unable to get back to sleep, he got up and trudged wearily from his small bedroom and out the unlocked front door of the prefab house. Both moons were visible, bluish marbles hanging low in the sky.

I can’t take it anymore. He’d crack eventually: break down, go mad, heart attack, something.

He wouldn’t be the first. Last month, woman killed her husband, both kids. Some people simply can’t adjust to a thirty hour day.

SF Drabble #57 “Market Correction”

“So,” she smiled disarmingly, “what did you say you did again that will make all that money?”

He swallowed his sip of scotch awkwardly and answered, “I built this generator… it, well, it’s hard to explain. Free power, basically.”

“That’s very impressive…” She touched his hand and smiled again.

Up in her hotel room, she said, “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I freshen up?” and disappeared into the bathroom after letting her dress slip with practiced elegance off her shoulders onto the floor.

He was fumbling with his belt when she emerged and shot him in the head.

Fantasy Drabble #30 “You Have Chosen… Poorly.”

The sword cost me ten thousand crowns, but it has been worth every penny. I don’t know what enchantment was laid on it, or by whom, but it saved my life countless times in countless fights. I made my name wielding that blade. It made me a King.

I willed it to my son, the Prince. Now, having put it in my back, he will be King.

If I was able to tell him where his power truly lies, I would. I fear that not knowing the sword’s secret he will choose a different weapon, and thus seal his doom.

SF Drabble #56 “To Each His Own”

“…and then there’s the Vovul,” said the alien.

“Okay.” Getting an alien drunk had been a wonderful idea.

“The Vovul believe that they are pieces of a god.”

“Pieces…”

“…Of a god, self-replicating shards of an exploded god. It was travelling through the galaxy and smacked into their planet accidentally.”

“And exploded.”

“Exactly so. They can prove it, they say, because all the Vovul alive at any given time always add up to the same mass.”

“How do they know that?” I wondered, skeptical.

“Don’t ask me.”

“Crazy.”

“Hey,” the alien shrugged and took another sip, “it works for them.”

SF Drabble #55 “Crime and Punishment”

Lefty had the gun at my head. And not a modern weapon with a stun setting either: a bullet-firing hand pistol. Lefty’s a traditionalist.

“Wait,” I said.

“Fuck you.”

“You know what happens, you pull that trigger?”

“Yeah: your brains go all over the fuckin’ wall.”

“That’s right. And then you get caught, and they erase you. All the way, too, not a selective wipe. You’ll be as gone as me.”

His expression said he was thinking about it.

“Lefty, it’s five years. You can do five years standing on your head.”

He got seven years, but he’s still Lefty.

Fantasy Drabble #29 “Under The Bridge”

We parked halfway across, just after midnight. I thought Cass wanted to make out but she told me to follow, got out of the car.

We leaned on the railing. I tried to kiss her, but she shied away. She said, “You’re very intense,” and tossed a coin down into the blackness.

A glowing, feminine shape appeared below. It rose slowly to hover serenely in front of us for a moment, and Cass asked it, “Okay?”

After a moment it sank sedately back down and disappeared. Cass said, “she thinks you’re okay,” and, satisfied, took me back to the car.

Zombie Drabble #84 “Registered Offender”

Dwight kept to himself. It was a quiet neighborhood. No one ever knocked, ever called or stopped by, not after the flyers about him went around.

It was of course illegal for him to own a firearm. He had binoculars, though, and a telescope set up in the attic window and could see everything from there.

Standing sullenly, in the yards, on the sidewalks, in the street were many of the kids the neighborhood had been hiding from him, and many of their parents. They were all dead. He was somehow less afraid of them coming to kill him now.