Hi.
So drabblerousers is going on hiatus.
It was a fun concept that never really caught on.
And Eleni and Peter are super busy writing novels and blogging and being generally awesome.
If someone loves the concept of drabbles so much that they’d like to take a crack at running the site, drop Peter a line at peterdewolf(at)gmail.com.
Otherwise thanks for stopping by. And especially thanks to everyone who has submitted.
You never know, we may re-launch it again at some point in the future.
The crow lay upon her neighbor’s frosty lawn, a frozen bundle of feathers and bones. Its legs were curled up beneath its body. Its dark eyes stared at nothing. She briefly wondered whether the bird was dead when it fell from the sky, landing with a thump among the bright Christmas decorations littering the lawn.
She shook her head. A dead bird falling from the sky portended nothing. No, she reassured herself, she didn’t believe in omens. She refused to extract meaning from the random events of life.
She really ought to have looked both ways before crossing the street.
_____
Kg Waite
writinginthemarginsburstingattheseams.blogspot.com
@kgwaite
Some folks mistakenly prefer the waterfront, but she knows that the second street up from the harbour is the best one.
She knows that the fog is just a little less thick. A little more magical, enveloping the streetlights.
The cobblestones are a little less eroded.
You can hear the waves lapping. But from a street away, they announce their arrival with a gentle rap on the door, not by ringing the bell.
Distance is beauty.
The wind is a little gentler on her exposed skin, when she smiles at him as he approaches.
“You looking for a date, sir?”
_____
Peter DeWolf
peterdewolf.com
@peterdewolf
She knows that the fog is just a little less thick. A little more magical, enveloping the streetlights.
The cobblestones are a little less eroded.
You can hear the waves lapping. But from a street away, they announce their arrival with a gentle rap on the door, not by ringing the bell.
Distance is beauty.
The wind is a little gentler on her exposed skin, when she smiles at him as he approaches.
“You looking for a date, sir?”
_____
Peter DeWolf
peterdewolf.com
@peterdewolf
She sat sideways on the hard plastic bench. Her feet up on the seat, knees hugged tight against her chest. Her dirty skate shoes pointed toward the aisle, with their hot pink laces prominently displayed; daring someone, anyone to sit down beside her. Headphones in her ears, and an angry scowl obscured what could otherwise have been a very pretty face. The battery on her iPod had been dead since yesterday, but the headphones discouraged conversational overtures made by strangers. This Red Line train to the airport pegged her as a traveler, but in reality, she was just killing time.
_____
Sean Brown
The Anarchist Project
@SeanMcBrown
She can’t decide which she enjoys more, the sound or the feeling. But the anticipation of both is driving her wild.
Goosebumps trail his hand like an obedient pup as he traces.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Knowingly.
He hugs the curves. He knows the terrain.
She feels the love in his touch.
Her hips move. Impatiently.
So. Very.
Her hips move. On their own.
Yes.
She feels the desire when he moves his hand away.
Her hips stop.
And wait.
And then.
The unmistakable sound echoes through the cool morning darkness, lingering for about as long as the sting.
Fuck deciding.
“Again?”
_____
- Anonymous
Goosebumps trail his hand like an obedient pup as he traces.
Slowly. Deliberately.
Knowingly.
He hugs the curves. He knows the terrain.
She feels the love in his touch.
Her hips move. Impatiently.
So. Very.
Her hips move. On their own.
Yes.
She feels the desire when he moves his hand away.
Her hips stop.
And wait.
And then.
The unmistakable sound echoes through the cool morning darkness, lingering for about as long as the sting.
Fuck deciding.
“Again?”
_____
- Anonymous
At one point she had begun apartment hunting for the two of them. They more or less already lived together, why not make it official?
Their demands were simple: dog friendly, giant kitchen, a south-facing living room to fill with bookshelves. They’d like a porch, too, but knew it was a luxury and that the likelihood of actually having one was slim.
She moved all her good cookware to his house and when she bought new kitchen implements, she made sure they were ones that he didn’t already own.
In retrospect, the whole thing was idealistic.
Unrealistic.
Same difference, really.
Their demands were simple: dog friendly, giant kitchen, a south-facing living room to fill with bookshelves. They’d like a porch, too, but knew it was a luxury and that the likelihood of actually having one was slim.
She moved all her good cookware to his house and when she bought new kitchen implements, she made sure they were ones that he didn’t already own.
In retrospect, the whole thing was idealistic.
Unrealistic.
Same difference, really.
_____
The waterdrops from the hole in the eaves trough follow him. He leans left. He leans right. The drops always hit him in the head. He doesn’t lean too far.
From her.
She stands silently.
He searches her eyes for answers.
He leans in and his mouth finds hers, trying to provide some.
He plays with the soft cotton scarf she wears even though it is seventy degrees.
She tucks her thumbs into the waistband of his jeans.
They stand silently.
A suit aggressively walks up behind them, annoyed they’re blocking his entrance.
“Hey! Are you two in or out?”
_____
Peter DeWolf
peterdewolf.com
@peterdewolf
From her.
She stands silently.
He searches her eyes for answers.
He leans in and his mouth finds hers, trying to provide some.
He plays with the soft cotton scarf she wears even though it is seventy degrees.
She tucks her thumbs into the waistband of his jeans.
They stand silently.
A suit aggressively walks up behind them, annoyed they’re blocking his entrance.
“Hey! Are you two in or out?”
_____
Peter DeWolf
peterdewolf.com
@peterdewolf
She crosses the street, takes the underpass to the main road. This is a route she’s walked every day, she could do it blindfolded.
On her right, there’s a pile of blankets against a brick wall.
“Hey,” She says to the blankets. They move. A dirty face smiles at her, “Well, hello there.”
She passes him a package, “Your lunch.”
“Thanks, Curly.”
Four men in business suits are walking towards them. Laughing, engaging in douchebaggery.
“Get a job!” One of them shouts towards the man in the blankets.
“I’d love a job,” he shouts back. “Can I borrow a suit?”
“How are you?”
“I hate that question. It’s a serious question that merits a serious answer. But you don’t care about my answer, not really. You expect me to say ‘fine’. And ‘fine’ is such bullshit word. It means I’m shit but I’m not going to tell you that. People are uncomfortable with pain expressed publicly. They say they’re okay without even thinking about it, just to be polite. The concept eludes me. People want to live in shades of pastel but I don’t function on that muted level. Maybe I’m too intense. Anyway, enough about me: how are you?”
_____
Alexia Roumanas
Say Another Lexi
@alexiaroumanas
“I hate that question. It’s a serious question that merits a serious answer. But you don’t care about my answer, not really. You expect me to say ‘fine’. And ‘fine’ is such bullshit word. It means I’m shit but I’m not going to tell you that. People are uncomfortable with pain expressed publicly. They say they’re okay without even thinking about it, just to be polite. The concept eludes me. People want to live in shades of pastel but I don’t function on that muted level. Maybe I’m too intense. Anyway, enough about me: how are you?”
_____
Alexia Roumanas
Say Another Lexi
@alexiaroumanas
“All I wanted was a refund.”
The words fell from her mouth, inert, like a sidewalk bird under a plate glass window. “The show was cancelled in the snowstorm, remember?”
Remember? What are you asking him about, memories of prom night? Jesus.
“Well, I could help you with this problem if you’d just do as I say.” His voice dripped with pretension, bordering on malice.
“Do as you say? And what’s that?” Yeah, what? Fucker.
His gesture said it: “On your knees.”
“Are you kidding me?” She spat. Fuck you. “Gimme my refund.”
The words fell from her mouth, inert, like a sidewalk bird under a plate glass window. “The show was cancelled in the snowstorm, remember?”
Remember? What are you asking him about, memories of prom night? Jesus.
“Well, I could help you with this problem if you’d just do as I say.” His voice dripped with pretension, bordering on malice.
“Do as you say? And what’s that?” Yeah, what? Fucker.
His gesture said it: “On your knees.”
“Are you kidding me?” She spat. Fuck you. “Gimme my refund.”
_____
