Z is for Zoo

Wow.  This is the end.  We've drabbled all the way to the end of April.  I'd like to thank all of you who went along with me on this journey.  It's been amazing for me.  I'm lucky to be part of such a great blogging community.

Zoo

The bars of my cage are rusted and dirty.  No one has cleaned them for years.

The surrounding cages are silent too.  They’re not empty, but those that occupy them are motionless.  I can’t recall the last time I saw one of them stir.

Life in the zoo was never easy.  Androids were outlawed when a Luddite faction took control of the government.  We were placed in zoos as a warning of the dangers of technology.  Children would come to taunt us.

There was a war.  I heard artillery at night, but it stopped long ago.

Now no one comes.

Y is for Yellow

This drabble was inspired by my philosophical friends and our propensity for saying random things.  Seriously, most sane people would go mad trying to follow our conversations.

Enjoy!

Yellow

“Yellow is the color of life and death,” Josh said.

Ellen looked up from her eggs.  “What do you mean?”  It was too early in the morning for her decaffeinated brain to decode his meaning.

“Look at your eggs.  The yolk is yellow.  It’s meant to nourish new life, but your consumption of it is a kind of death.  The sun is yellow.  It gives life.  Yet the yellowed pages of a book are evidence of decay.”

“Yellow is also the color of the healing bruise you’ll have in a couple of days if you don’t stop rambling,” Ellen warned.

X is for Xenophilia

There are only so many words that start with X.  Xenophobia immediately jumped to mind, but I've written about that topic before.  Then I thought about the flip side.  I'm a science fiction geek, so I've always had a thing for cool aliens.

So here's my geeky tribute to those who have taken a page from Captain Kirk's book and are open to the possibilities.  Enjoy!

P.S.-This is a continuation of "Midnight" for those who wanted it.

Xenophilia

“You hear about people being xenophobic.  Well, I’m xenophilic,” Darlene said as she kicked at the dirt.  “I watched nothing but Star Trek as a kid, so that may be the reason for it.  You should know that if we’re going to date.”

Miles stared blankly at her for a moment.  “Would I have to do anything weird?”

She produced a set of pointy prosthetics from her coat pocket.  Spock ears.  “Wear these on our first date.  And no red shirts.”

After a moment of thought, he shrugged.  “I can live with that.  So you’ll really go out with me?”

W is for Weeping

Here we are at W already.  Seriously, where is the time going?

Here's another drabble for you.  I won't bore you with a long introduction on this one.  I'm not sure where the inspiration came from, and I hope it speaks for itself.

Weeping

Daryl hates crying.  It reminds him of his childhood, when his mother would be gone for days and his father would (if he was lucky) be too drunk to even notice him.

When the man did notice him, Daryl went to bed covered in bruises.  He only allowed himself to shed tears whilst hidden beneath his threadbare comforter.

He hasn’t cried since his mother finally disappeared altogether.

Now he stands before the coffin, tears streaming down his face.  Though he hates his father, he laments the loss of hope that things could’ve been better.  That he might’ve had a dad.

Celebrate the Small Things-April 25, 2014

If you're here to see the V post for the A to Z Challenge, click HERE.

It's Friday!  Let's Celebrate the Small Things with VikLit!

The A to Z Challenge is coming close to its conclusion, and it's inspiring to see so many bloggers maintaining their enthusiasm up until the end.  I'm still having a great time with it. It makes me feel great when people leave me positive comments about my drabbles.  You guys are amazing!

I got quite a bit of work done on my WIP this week, and I'm excited about that.  I figured I'd accomplish almost nothing on it this month, but that has turned out not to be the case.  I'm not working at my top pace, but I'm making progress. Woohoo!

I made chocolate chip muffins from scratch, and they turned out great!  My husband and my kids all loved them.  Now I'm trying to think of what other kinds of muffins I can try to make next.

There's chocolate in the house.  Need I say any more?

What would you like to celebrate?

V is for Vanity

For this drabble, I wanted to tackle the concept of vanity.  

Sure, we all like to look good, even if it's only once in awhile.  It can lift your spirits, and give you that boost of confidence we all need.  However, when looks become everything, it can be devastating.  Too many young people have had their lives devastated by the drive to achieve a level of physical perfection that simply isn't attainable without an airbrush or surgery.

There's more to life than physical beauty.

Vanity

A cluttered desk: facial creams, moisturizers of every scent a person could dream of, cosmetics designed to attend to any beauty related problem imaginable.

A drawer filled with tools: eyelash curlers, hair curlers, hair extensions, brushes for creating perfect designs on painted nails, nail clippers, cuticle nippers.  The list goes on and on.

A closet packed with clothes: designer dresses for day and night, sweaters, jeans, leggings, so many pairs of shoes that one couldn’t hope to count them all.

She looks around her bedroom, thinking of all the things she has.  Yet it’s never enough.  She always feels empty. 

U is for Ubiquitous

This is the one I probably had the most fun writing.  I love word play, and when I chose the word 'ubiquitous' as my inspiration, this story sprung naturally from it.  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, though I honestly don't know if that's possible.

Ubiquitous

“What’s the next word?” Bobby asked.

Marcus glanced down at the paper.  “Ubiquitous.”

Bobby wrinkled his nose.  “Is it just me, or does that word sound a bit pretentious?”

This earned him a raised eyebrow.  “I think the word ‘pretentious’ sounds just as pretentious as ‘ubiquitous’.  Besides, words themselves aren’t pretentious.  Just the people using them.”

With a shrug, Bobby conceded the point.  “I guess it’s to be expected.  We’re practicing for a spelling bee.  Words that make us sound pretentious are bound to be ubiquitous.”

Now Marcus smiled.  “You clearly know what ‘ubiquitous’ means, but can you spell it?”

T is for Thaumaturgy

I came across the word "thaumaturgy" online, and within five minutes, this little drabble was born.  I had a great time writing this one, though it was so difficult limiting it to 100 words. My hands kept wanting to write more!

Thaumaturgy

Craigslist ads attract all kinds. 

Stacy was searching for someone to fix her computer.  A man called a couple hours later, offering to do the job. 

When she opened the door to let him in, she was startled by the long purple robe he wore.  Great.   I got a weird one, she thought.

“Are you qualified to fix computers?” she asked hesitantly.

“I am a thaumaturgist,” he replied calmly.

“A what?”

“Thaumaturgy is the ability to perform magic.”

Her eyebrow arched quizzically.  “You’re a magician?  Why didn’t you say that instead?”

He smiled.  “You would have thought I was crazy.”

S is for Sketch

As a writer, I know how the writing spell can come over you.  That's when the magic happens.  I imagine it's similar for an artist, or any other creative type who's in the groove, so to speak.  That idea is what inspired the following drabble.

Sketch

Stella’s hand ghosted over the blank sheet, leaving faint lines of graphite in its wake.  She savored the curves and planes as they flowed from her fingers.  Her heart poured onto the paper as she worked, attempting the nearly impossible goal of capturing a moment . . .

“Justin, stop twitching!” Stella cried.  The sudden movement from her model spoiled the artistic trance she’d been enjoying.  Now there was a nasty smudge on her masterpiece.

“I had an itch!” he retorted.  “I’m human!  If you’re not going to allow me to have human shortcomings, I’m not going to let you sketch me anymore.”

R is for Rain

Here's another science fiction drabble.  Wow.  I've been noticing a bit of a theme the last few days.  Oh well.  Science fiction has been such a large part of my life that this hardly comes as a surprise.

Enjoy!

Rain

The cracked red dirt sent up puffs of dust around Delphine’s feet.  Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon.  She shuddered.  Much as she longed for some water to cool her heated skin, the rain waiting to be unleashed from those clouds would be anything but refreshing.

It hasn’t rained for months, Delphine thought bitterly.  It figures that it would happen now when I’m nowhere near shelter.

Resigning herself to the fact that she couldn’t avoid it, she continued to walk.  When the droplets began falling from the sky, they cut right through her, stripping the flesh from her bones.

Q is for Qualifying

This drabble was inspired by my undying love for science fiction.  This is a near future scenario, and the theme is not a new one.  I'm not breaking the mold with this piece.  I'm simply taking a peak at the lives of two people.

Qualifying

“Do you think it’ll work out this time?” Mark asked, his fingers clenching the steering wheel.

Martha shrugged, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t terrified.

Qualifying wasn’t easy.  The standards were strict.  Out of a batch of ten embryos, there was no guarantee they’d have one deemed acceptable.  They’d walked away disappointed three times already.

Embryos had to have a potential IQ of 125, and no genetic defects.  That meant perfect eyesight, no mental illness, no risk factors for cancer.  And even if one embryo met the criteria, aptitudes were taken into account. 

The needs of society decided all.

Celebrate the Small Things-April 18, 2014

For those of you who are here to check out my P post for the A to Z Challenge, you can find it HERE.

It's Friday!  Let's Celebrate the Small Things with VikLit!

This has been another fun week, thanks in part to the April A to Z Challenge. It's great connecting to bloggers that I hadn't previously had the opportunity to meet.

I'm also excited because, thanks to the lovely Krista McLaughlin and her BREATHLESS Release Party giveaway, I won an e-copy of the complete "13th Floor" series by Christine Rains.  So thank you Krista, and of course, thank you to Christine as well!  Winning awesome prizes like this always helps make your week extra special.

I'm also celebrating that I've gotten some work on my WIP done.  Not a lot, but some.  In the midst of A to Z, getting anything done on it seems like a major accomplishment.

P is for Purity

This is another drabble that turned into a poem instead.  Once again, it's still exactly 100 words.  It just came out as a poem.  I can't always control what results from my creative madness.

The inspiration for this came from frustration.  I've seen so many people who are judged harshly for their past, often unjustly, and the results can be devastating for some.  We are none of us perfect.  The experiences we have had may not win the approval of all, but for better or worse, they've made us who we are.

Purity

White dresses, flowers,

     golden

     childish dreaming.

Innocent you must

     remain,

     they all command.

As you grow, you

     learn,

     human needs prevail.

In a moment, it’s

     undone,

     childhood is over.

A burgeoning wisdom,

     unfolds,

     takes root within.

Life is not so

     simple

     as others pretend.

Yet others persist,

     learning

     of your knowledge.

Tainted, unclean,

     filthy,

     the insults fly.

Who would want you

     dirty

     as you now are?

The judgments come

     one

     by one, cutting.

Words fill your life,

     you

     cannot escape.

They taunt you, judge,

     define

     and it takes a toll.

Some will not rest until,

     broken,

     you agree with them.

O is for Original

The inspiration for the following drabble clearly comes from the fact that my brain has been saturated with science fiction.  I am in no way claiming this is a bad thing.  It's a simple fact of life.

I hope you like it!

Original

The world places value on originality, all the while peddling knock-off clothing and accessories so people can all look the same.  It’s laughable just how deluded people can be.

People say originals are precious because they can never be replaced.  Original paint jobs, original parts, untarnished by time.

Of course, people try to replace the irreplaceable.  That’s why I exist.  A clone, a replication of a once-living original.  I came with a blank slate, though family members pretend not to notice.  They’d much rather embrace the delusion and ignore the fact that I’m not even the original me.

N is for Newcomer

Now it's on to my drabble for the letter N!  N-joy!  Get it?  It's "enjoy" except spelled . . .  Oh nevermind.  I find it increasingly difficult to defend my bad jokes.

Newcomer

Newcomers are treated with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.  I know this from my childhood.  Being an army brat, I was always the new kid in school.

Now, as a diplomat, I get to experience it again on a whole new level.  First contact with an alien species.  I’ve been living on a starship for the last three years just in case we encountered anyone.  I’d almost given up on the possibility of it happening.

It’s even more intimidating that we’re meeting on their home world.  I stroll into the room, the lone human.  I am the alien here.

M is for Midnight

Here's another drabble.  I wanted to capture some of the excitement of young love and the anticipation that comes along with it.  Enjoy!

Midnight

Miles was shocked by the note in his locker.

Meet me at midnight under the oak tree in the park and say you’ll be mine.

The note wasn’t signed.  As he navigated the halls between classes, he observed everyone, hoping to catch a fleeting glance, searching for any clue as to who his admirer was.

Hours later, after his parents had gone to bed, Miles slipped out of the house and headed to the park.  The cool evening air couldn’t chill his heated skin.  His heart pounded in his ears as he spotted the silhouette leaning against the tree trunk.

L is for Loss

We're all the way up to L already?  Where has the time gone?

I was inspired to write this drabble after watching A League of Their Own.

Loss

From her seat on the porch, Anna saw the uniformed messenger climb out of the car.  Beside her, Sarah’s petite form tensed.  “No,” came the slightest of whimpers.  “No, no, no.”

The messenger could be going to a neighboring house, Anna thought.

The young man started up the sidewalk, and Sarah crumpled to the floor.  “No, no, NO!”  The volume and desperation increased with each repetition.

The news was clear.  Sarah’s husband had died in the war.  Like so many others.  Anna ached for her friend, but part of her also rejoiced that she wasn’t the one receiving such news.

K is for Knockout

For this drabble, I drew upon my own terrifying memories of dodgeball.  Man oh man, that game never ended well for me.  Neither did red rover.  

Though funnily enough, the worst P.E. injury I ever sustained was while we were playing frisbee.  I had braces at the time, and getting hit in the cheek meant I had to spend the next several minutes prying the inside of my cheek off of the sharp metal.  There was plenty of blood and frustration to be had that day, let me tell you!

Anyway, on to the story!

Knockout

Sweat dripped into my eyes, but I couldn’t sweep it away.  If I took my eyes off the ball, it would’ve all been over.

Then disaster stuck.  Or kind fortune.  I can’t decide which.

I detected movement from the corner of my eye.  On the sidelines, Phoebe Wexler had bent over to tie her shoe, affording me a perfect view down her shirt.  I froze, distracted by the heavenly sight.

SMACK!

When I opened my eyes, Phoebe hovered over me.  “You were knocked out.  Are you going to be okay?”

As long as I don’t die of embarrassment, I thought.

Celebrate the Small Things-April 11, 2014

If you stopped by to check out my J post for the A to Z Challenge, you can find it HERE. The drabble for today is silly and light-hearted, but that seems appropriate for a Friday.

It's Friday!  Let's Celebrate the Small Things with VikLit!

The weather here is getting better and better.  I got to go outside with the kids, and we worked on learning to ride bikes.  The kids also drew some wonderful pictures with sidewalk chalk.

I'm still having lots of fun with the A to Z Challenge.  It's hard to believe that the month is 1/3 of the way over already.

As I write this, I am drinking a wonderful cup of tea, which is always nice.  There is also chocolate in the house, which makes everything seem brighter.

Jude had a great 5th birthday.  He ate chocolate cake when we went to my dad's house, and he'll be getting even more chocolate cake this weekend when we celebrate again with my in-laws.  Lyle is now eagerly looking forward to his birthday, which is exactly one month from today.  These kids are growing up so fast!

What would you like to celebrate?

J is for Juvenile

For this little drabble, I felt like doing something silly.  That's why I chose the word "juvenile" in the first place.  I hope you like it!

Juvenile

“Why do you have to act like such a juvenile all the time?” Carrie demanded, her voice rising an octave between the start and finish of her raucous protest.

Chris calmly stood his ground, hands shoved in his pockets, as he studied the results of his brilliant prank.  Teenage girls covered in pinks, reds, blues, and greens surrounded him, all wearing identical looks of fury.

“Hey, you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to make tie-dye shirts or have a water balloon fight.  Thanks to me, you got both.”

Carrie held up a balloon filled with pink dye.  “Your turn.”

I is for Ignite

I am immensely excited to invite you to imbibe the drabble I've inked for the letter I.  Wow, it isn't easy to imagine that many words that begin with I and avoid making my sentences incomprehensible.

Anyway, enjoy!

Ignite

“I’m a phoenix,” she whispers.  Her warm breath caresses my chilled flesh, making me shiver.  “Ignite me, and I’ll be reborn.”

I have no idea what she’s trying to say, probably because someone spiked my drink.  This whole night’s been strange, but now I’m too hazy to care. 

The campfire has dimmed, casting shadows about the pasture, and I wonder if we’re truly alone in this bizarre moment.

“Make me burn,” she calls to the sky as she dances away from me.  She begins to twirl, her red and yellow dress fluttering in the breeze, the fire illuminating the material.

H is for Horror

I was inspired to write this drabble after watching a horror film that didn't scare me.  Horror is often a relative thing.  That which terrifies one may not even phase another.  Then again, there are certainly real-life experiences that would horrify most.

Horror

What defines the horror genre?

Dana stared at the question for several long moments.  Of course she knew what the professor expected her to write.  She’d been to class, taken notes, and studied.  Yet she couldn’t regurgitate the answer she’d memorized.

You don’t know what horror is, she thought bitterly.  Horror is waking up every day feeling like you were born into the wrong body.  Horror is feeling as if you’ll never fit in, and fearing every day that your family will finally see through the veneer and be repulsed by who you really are.

Dana left the question blank.

G is for Grave

When I sat down to write this drabble, I knew I wanted to use the word "grave" for inspiration, but I didn't want it to be a typical story about someone visiting a grave.  I hope I pulled that off.

Grave

The gravesite was nicely manicured.  Visitors tended to feel comforted by well-tended cemeteries.

Stan shoved his hands into his coat pockets, his eyes wandering over the headstones surrounding him.

“Is it weird that I’m here?” he wondered aloud, knowing that no one else was there to hear him.  “I told my best friend about this, and he laughed.”  He knelt down in front of the headstone, tracing the name with his fingers.  His name.  “What can I say?  I’m going to be buried here someday.  I want to know what it’ll be like for my family to visit me.”

F is for Famine

I forge on with this drabble-thon and the letter F!

Famine

This place is a wasteland.  It’s the type of environment that makes your brain shut down just to get you through the day.

There are worse places, of course.  I have food.  Shelter.  Money.  My physical needs are met thanks to this soul crushing machine that I call a job.

The desk reeks of disinfectant.  The computer screen glares harshly back at me.  My chair wobbles, keeping me off balance.  The data I have to input into the system is utterly unremarkable.  All the figures look the same.

There is a famine of ideas.  Of inspiration.  I desperately crave imagination.

E is for Entity

Let's finish out the first week of this challenge with the letter E!

Entity

The blobby green creature rolls slowly around the perimeter of the plexiglass enclosure.  “The entity seems to be exploring its environment.”  Daphne speaks into the recorder excitedly.  At age 14, she strives to act like a real scientist.

Her little brother Daniel watches from the edge of the bed.  “Shouldn’t we let someone know about this?”

Daphne shakes her head.  “No.  If the government gets their hands on it, who knows what they’ll do?  Everything will be better if we keep this to ourselves.”

He nods.  He’d seen enough movies to know she was probably right.  “Can we name it?”

Celebrate the Small Things-April 4, 2014

First of all, if you're hear to check out my D post for the A-Z Challenge, you can find that HERE.

It's Friday!  Let's take a moment to Celebrate the Small Things with VikLit!

I didn't post last Friday.  It wasn't because I didn't have anything to celebrate. I actually had quite a few little things worth mentioning.  It was simply a busy weekend, and I was also trying to prepare myself for the rigors of the A to Z Challenge by lying low for a few days.

Last week I would have celebrated the fact that on Thursday last week, my kids lost my glasses.  Okay, that isn't the celebration-worthy bit.  I was upset, but my prizes from Alex J. Cavanaugh's 2000 Follower giveaway arrived that afternoon, and that brightened what would otherwise have been a miserable day.  And then later that night, I found my glasses buried deep inside one of our couches.  They were dirty, but intact!

Anyway, this past weekend, busy as it was, is certainly worth mentioning for this week.  My husband got his annual bonus from work, so we got to splurge a little. We bought our kids new bikes, which they needed anyway. Jude had outgrown his, and we wanted to get Lyle a new bike for his birthday (which is over a month from now, but that's beside the point).  We gave Jude's old bike to our nephew, so it'll be in good hands.

We also bought Jude a telescope.  His birthday is on the 6th of this month, which is only a couple days from now.  He was adamant about getting a telescope, so we found him a small one.  It isn't high quality or anything, but he loves it.  And of course, since we were telescope shopping, I had to get myself a telescope. Mine's a bit bigger than his, and I'm enjoying it so far.  I intend to use it, both for Mars when it reaches opposition on the 8th, and for the upcoming lunar eclipse on the 15th. That is, as long as the sky isn't cloudy.  I always have to be prepared for that possibility.

I just made a batch of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies, and they turned out really good. I'm excited about that.  It's nice to know that my baking skills are somewhat decent.

Since Jude's birthday is on Sunday, we also have birthday cake to look forward to.

What would you like to celebrate?

D is for Debt

Now let's drabble on with the letter D!

Debt

“You owe me a debt,” Lana said with a smirk, her arms crossed in front of her chest.  “I don’t chase away bullies for free.”

Elliot made a futile attempt to straighten his damaged glasses, more to make it look like he wasn’t staring at her.  Lana’s knee-high black leather boots made her look like a warrior goddess.  Bullies had always been a reality for him, and he couldn’t figure out why someone like her would help him.

“What do you want?” he asked hesitantly.

The smirk turned to a smile.  “Just a kiss, because I think you’re cute.”