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Drabblewrimo 2021

I've come to the conclusion I mostly have a fairly dark imagination....

Hearth

It was a ‘new town’, when people had thought it would be smart and modern to a have a centre of pavementless roads and twisting covered concrete walkways for pedestrians. Now it was tunnels with flickering lights, or none at all. A prevailing smell of piss with occasional fried food.

But there was something new there now, after decades. Things that had made the crevices, the hatches and maintenance tunnels their home. That spun webs at its heart and now and then pulled in its prey when light was least. Passers-by studiously ignore the headline ‘ANOTHER HOMELESS MAN MISSING’.
 
Day 17 – Hearth

I remember Nanna telling me about when Bluey, her budgie, flew into their fossil fuel fire when she was just a child. How the little bird was so entranced by the flames that it flew ever closer, until one day it just couldn’t help itself and nosedived into the heart of it. She’d been sat on the hearth rug, watching cartoons on those old televisual devices, when POOF! Bluey satisfied his final desire.

I’m reminded of that now, as I gaze child-like through my porthole, entranced by the greatest fire of all time, inexorably tugged to the heart of it.
 
Day 18

Still

The ice volcanoes had long since fallen dormant, by the time the probe flew past. The sluggish seas underneath gave no sign that life had evolved past the single cell stage. The information was transmitted back to Earth over months, by which time the craft was well on its way into the depths of the Kuiper belt.

The scientist squinted at the screen and put down the coffee. An email from her husband. It could wait. There was always time for more pointless passive aggression about working late.

The relationship had cooled after fifteen years of listening to the void.
 
Day 18 – Still

Dear Audrey

I’ve taken up life sketching! I needed activities to distract me from the grief, so dug out that tin of assorted pencils you gave to me last Christmas.

They’re wonderful! I can get the shading just right, and the extra-fine ones are perfect for capturing detail.

Ralphie doesn’t mind modelling for me. Although he’s a bit stiff, and it takes some effort to get into a pose, he can hold it for hours. Doesn’t move a muscle! It’s amazing how supple he still is. I think it must be something they put in the embalming fluid.

Fondest

Moira
 
Still

‘Officers, won’t you come in for some tea? You are working so hard for all of us finding those unpatriotic profiteers!’ croaked Old Auntie Bozena, watching the men open barns and rifle through broken-down farm trucks.

‘Why thank you, Madam’, said the chief officer, who desperately needed a break from looking through all these poky hovels in the arse-end of nowhere.

Bozena turned on the charm, the cakes and the tea in her small but cosy lounge and sang the praises of The Party just long enough for Marek and the boys to hide the distillery amid the tractors and the pear harvest.
 
I'm loving the still ones. Here's mine.


An old woman wails miss! Have you seen my doctor? I need some medicine! I hurt. Sorry miss.

Machines and phones beep and buzz, a techno intro.

A cuffed youth is guarded by two yawning cops. Maroon, royal-blue and Lincoln-green nurses bounce around like snooker balls, discussing the failed ECG machines, not bothering with secrets.

They bleed her; she misreads "green butterfly bungs" as wings and wonders if this is some new butterfly therapy, and why only green.

Beneath a sheet, a nose and chin form a mountain range. It stays still as she stares.

Miss, I need medicine! Miss!
 
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Day 19 – Shenanigans

We interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news of a fracas at a local care home.

Initial reports suggest it began after tablets embossed with a Mitsubishi logo were mistakenly dispensed to residents.

We understand that Horlicks was deliberately spilled, and amplified music began to emit from the home, which, by reason of its loudness, duration and time was likely to cause serious distress to the inhabitants of the locality. It included sounds predominantly characterised by a succession of repetitive beats, directly contravening Section 63 (1) of the Criminal Justice Act 1994.

35 residents have been detained for questioning.
 
Shenanigans

Sausages were strewn across the room. Beneath an overturned waffle-maker, a guinea pig chirped, while a pair of beige 15-denier tights hung from the ceiling fan. Someone had left the TV on the Nazis and Super-Sharks channel.

He’d been called to Kerfuffles before, even the occasional Brouhaha, but this was his first ever Shenanigan.

He set his jaw, then jumped as he shifted a deflated plastic flamingo out of the way with his foot and a set of wind-up teeth scuttled across the floor. Goblins, sprites and teenagers he’d dealt with before, but this was a whole new ballgame - leprechauns.
 
Absolutely LOVE that Cloo ! What a fantastic opening line :D

I also thoroughly approve of 'brouhaha' - in fact, it almost made it into mine, but I settled on fracas in the end. Why are nouns for disturbances so funny?! :D

Great drabble 😂 🥰
 
Day 20 – Obscure

Camouflaged with leaves, a casual passerby wouldn’t notice it, but I learned to dig pits in the army. Mostly for latrines but the principle’s the same.

I’ve seen him walking around these woods a lot lately. He’s usually with a little lad. Must be retired from teaching now then.

Said he didn’t remember me, in court. All those detentions, lifts home, the sweets and the money.

Anyway, the principle’s the same, but this one has a few punitive additions, just to jog his memory. I’ll take care of the little lad too.

Make sure he gets home safe and sound.
 
Obscure

‘Well actually their first album was as Thought Crisis in 1982, I have it on vinyl, the artwork was accidentally created by a young Jarvis Cocker when he dropped some coffee on the canvas Petra Novgorod was preparing. Not her real name, it was a homage to futurist Novgorod printmaker Sonia Merinsky who was sent to Siberia for being too decadent.’

Rachel coughed politely as the only way she thought possible to stop the flow of words ‘Ah, but did you hear the album they recorded as I’m Leaving Now?’

He furrowed his brow and by the time he looked up again she was gone.
 
Day 21 – Passion

14/09/21

Dear Diary

I saw Jonathan again today. I managed to keep a civil tongue in my head, but only just. Where the bloody hell does he get those ridiculous metaphors from? Must be taking lessons from The Boss, Mr Mealy Mouth himself.

Hopefully, the mic didn’t pick up on my sigh. I think I covered it well with a cough, but perhaps not the best diversion for a crowded room.

If he calls me Chrissy-Whitty-Woo-Woo one more time though, I swear I’m going to ram those fucking glasses down his patronising neck. Tear the pants off THAT, you twat.
 
Passion

Even Tristan’s parents wouldn’t come, even his sister who he thought was the one who understood, who acknowledged them. At the ward reception, they told him again not to go in, no one knew how infectious this thing was, but loaded up with rubber gloves and shrouded in a face mask and a plastic apron, they unlocked the door for him.

Tom took out the tape player. He’d never been able to get into Wagner, but it’s what he’d want at the last, that much he knew. The sound was lousy but perhaps Tristan would hear: ‘Mild und leise, wie er lächelt…’
 
Day 22 – Umbrella

The World Famous James Smith & Sons Umbrella Shop
Hazelwood House
London

Dear Sirs

Please find enclosed the tattered remains of one of your ‘world famous’ umbrellas, which I purchased for my fiancé’s birthday. He was pleased with it initially, as clouds had come and it promised to positively bucket down. However, upon employing the release mechanism, the entire canopy not only split but the spokes broke too, poking him in the eye and leaving him half-blind (and soaking wet) for the entire day. He was so upset, he ended the relationship.

I demand compensation-ation-ation from you forthwith.

Regards

Rhianna
 
Umbrella

I watch it dancing, not a little envious. It’ll make it out to sea at this rate, not that I ever will.

Dave is convinced we’ll be retiring and buying a yacht before he’s 40 if he keeps going to the seminars, but as far as I can tell he’s most paying for those shitehawk’s yachts himself. Let’s face it, most of us just want be carried along in a safe pair of hands and not even consider the possibility of doing a dance in the sky. And the risk of crashing down to earth at some point, broken.
 
Day 23 – Herb

Further to Thursday’s breaking news item, staff and residents of the controversial care home are facing fresh allegations following rumours of illegal crops being cultivated in the grounds.

A source close to the home said “It’s been going on for ages. Proper stinks, man. Smells like p*ss. I thought it was camomile at first, ‘cause it’s calming innit? But I’ve seen staff eating whole Fray Bentos pies on big baps, and old dears sleeping really well, with others experiencing extreme giggling. It’s appalling.”

A local newsagent confirmed that sales of king-size Rizla papers have quadrupled.

The CQC declined to comment.
 
Herb

When her mum fell off the stepladder and wouldn’t wake up, Eloise didn’t know what to do so she banged on Mr Dionne’s door. He was an odd character, always wearing a hat, tending the grapevines he somehow grew. She gasped out what had happened and he hurried to his garden to fetch a handful of peculiar leaves. He led her back to her house; ‘Here, put these in your mum’s mouth’. Eloise’s mum groggily came to, just in time to see someone leaving the room. She must have been concussed, as she could have sworn she saw hooves below the flapping trouser hems.
 
Precision

All mages rising from novice to adept were permitted the Ceremony of the Boon. Into the Chamber to make one request of the Powers - a wish or an ability, but only small. The balance must be correct - the ability to always have your cakes rise, to be able to summon a small animal. Too ambitious and you were left with nothing.

Horma of Brend, a vulnerable northern land, had secretly been making study of premonition in his spare time. He stepped into the Chamber and made his request. Two years later, a smith in neighbouring Toumelle was unable to find a nail.
 
Day 24 – Precision

Poppy just thought there was no point having rules if you’re going to ignore them, that’s all. There was certainly no need for the tantrum Alan had thrown in the office today. He’d accused her of nitpicking, bandying around terms such as ‘finicky’, ‘pedantic’, and accusing her of being an ‘OCD nightmare’. She’d have to show him how important it was to be precise.

She’d explain everything first, obviously. How his height, weight and neck measurements were crucial in determining sufficient energy for the drop, to avoid slow asphyxiation, convulsions or brain damage.

She was sure Alan would understand then.
 
Gossip


‘What, tomorrow?’

‘Yeah, gone just like that!’

‘Well, you know it was about the…’ eyebrows were raised.

‘I heard it was about you-know-who’ nudges were nudged.

‘Yes, she had been involved in a bit of the you-know-what scenario…’ fingers were tapped on desks.

‘With whatsisface…’

‘And he-who-shall-not-be-named’ biros were poked in the air emphatically.

‘I always said something like this would happen with her.’

‘It was pretty inevitable.’

‘Ever since that day-that-shall-not-be-spoken-of.’ milk was stirred energetically into tea.

‘And don’t forget that time when they all went to Basingstoke.’ backs of chairs were leaned heavily against.

No one actually knew.
 
Day 25 – Gossip

Alice had been interested in the curative properties of various herbs and fungi since she was a child, sat on her grandmother’s knee. As she’d grown older, she’d assisted in the births of the village children, had treated their illnesses and those of their parents, and purified the dead prior to burial. A little jealous tittle-tattle was all it took to defame her good name.

Thanks to the idle chit-chat of Lizzie and Jane though, she’d located the intended stash of faggots the night before her trial, and cast an invisibility spell on them.

Careless talk can sometimes save lives.
 
I did another Venn diagram poem for the prompt word gossip (100 words). I think it might post here as actual text, but otherwise there's an image version.

Ah, the text version isn't well aligned, and probably not readable for screen readers either. But it might be easier to actually see.

Did you hear that Lizzytoldall my life that I was ugly, I took
Everyone Matt had takenadvantageof my only attribute -
Of her? I mean, it’s commonknowledge- but it just made me uglier
That Matt’s going withKatieinvited me to a party, so I tried to look
And she’s more popular andprettier- and it seemed to work;
Than Lizzy, so why wouldhesaid I was beautiful, then
Ever want Lizzy? I’mforcedme into his bedroom
To say, this isn’t metoo, this islyingon the bed, I thought, at least no-one knows
 

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