Drabbles Vol.1

[annikun]

Four drabbles here, so word count is pretty much exactly 400. I was inspired to write these by looking at the prompts given on Writerverse in LJ. First one is serious, second one is semi-serious, and last two are basically comedy. They're all more or less realism and such. Any comments much appreciated! Also, I think the last one is my personal favorite ;D

The fire was spreading slowly across the horizon. I watched the smoke rise to the sky and form a dark, impenetrable wall around us. The ground was shaking with the rhythmic succession of bombs, like an enormous drum. I couldn't hear it anymore, the explosions had ruined my ears. Maybe they could have been salvaged, but who was there to do that? I turned around and instinctively clutched at him in my urge to hold on, to live. The dust cloud approached rapidly. I saw his mouth move. I don't know what he said, but I replied. ”I love you!”

(prompt: end of the world)
 

 

She sat down and he grinned at her, pushing a cup across the table. ”I thought you may want hot cocoa, so I ordered some.” She looked at him, wrapped her hands around the cup to warm them and studied his face. He always knew what she wanted before even she did. Marrying him like her mother wanted would be an easy choice – but it was not what she really wanted. He was a friend, not a husband. He raised his eyebrows. ”Something wrong?” She smiled at him and took a sip. ”Quite the opposite – my friend.” Naturally, he understood.

(prompt: platonic soulmates)
 

 

”Here, son – it's time I turn this over to you.” I looked at my dad, doing my best to hide my disappointment. When he had called me to inform me that it was time for an important and useful family heirloom to pass into my ownership, I had been quite excited. It sounded like a big deal to him, he was very serious about it. He was still serious, but it was difficult for me to keep a straight face now. ”This is the useful heirloom?” I took the old, crooked walking cane from his hands. ”Dad, I'm 19.”

(prompt: family affairs)
 

 

Mother was furious. She had us assemble into a line, and then she glared at each in turn. ”How did these stains get on the carpet?” Jonah was the first to plead innocence. Leah fidgeted nervously, claiming: ”Not me either!” Mother's furious gaze turned to me and almost burned a hole in my forehead. ”Well?” ”I may know what caused them,” I admitted and looked markedly into the kitchen. Jonah, Leah, and Mother all looked, too. Then, Mother turned a shade redder. I still don't know how Father thought that crazy amount of jam would stay on that tiny bread!

(prompt: stains on the carpet)