fantasy

Episode 29: "Security, in a Tuxedo"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 29, for Tuesday the twenty-ninth of October 2024.

Security, in a Tuxedo

by Elizabeth Guilt

They roared into the city. Literally - the cheapest transport in from the airport was on lion-back.

The bars were raucous. Sinuous snake dancers, monkeys pouring drinks with hands and feet, bunnies lounging lasciviously across laps. Bears kept the tourists under control. Just.

Only one spot in the busy centre was calm. Smart black-and-white waiters waddled, cocktail trays on flippers, up to marble tables. You could hear the ice clink as they set the glasses down.

"Why so quiet?" whispered one punter.

"Never underestimate these guys. And no-one wants to admit they were thrown out of a bar by a penguin."

One of the reasons I find penguins so delightful is that they always manage to look exactly like pictures of themselves - something they share with tigers, and pints of Guinness. It is a very satisfactory quality.

Episode 26: "The Handler"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 26, for Saturday the twenty-sixth of October 2024.

The Handler

by Elizabeth Guilt

I could hear the fighting from outside. It was one of the hard cases, a small one. It always is, all entitlement and "I shouldn't be in here" attitude.

There were snarls and filthy language as I pulled him off a terrified sporty type.

"Zip it," I snapped, flinging him out through the door. "Get going, the rest of you."

A polite cough sounded behind me.

"Could you help me up? Not as young as I was."

Seventies, I guessed. No wheels, and worn straps.

"Of course, sir."

I picked him up, and placed him gently on the baggage carousel.

Have you ever noticed? If you check multiple bags in for a flight, they come out miles apart at the other end. I've always wondered what they get up to, and whether they had a falling-out in between.

Episode 23: "Unicorns"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 23, for Wednesday the twenty-third of October 2024.

unicorns

by Elizabeth Guilt

When the barriers crumbled between our worlds, everyone went exploring. Especially the motorcyclists. On whining two-strokes and beefy Harleys, they tore through the winding roads of Fairyland.

The King of the Fairies met the King of the Bikers at the Border, and begged him to stop them.

The Biker King laughed.

"I will send unicorns to guard the border," said the Fairy.

The Biker King laughed harder, and on Sunday morning he lead the roaring engines down the road.

The unicorns waited, bigger than shirehorses. Bull-necked and wild-eyed; jagged metal battering rams bound at their brows.

Heads down, they charged.

If, like me, you've lived in towns and cities all your life, it's always a bit of a surprise how large and intimidating horses can be. I've never quite believed that adding a huge, spiralling horn would make them into gentle and compassionate creatures.

Episode 22: "Yo Ho Ho"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 22, for Tuesday the twenty-second of October 2024.

YO Ho Ho

by Elizabeth Guilt

The last visitor trudged reluctantly into the lashing rain, and Nigel rolled down the shutters. He rested his forehead against the window, enjoying the brief moments of peace.

There was a crash from the main exhibition hall, then muffled swearing.

He drew a deep breath.

"It's ok," he shouted, "they've gone".

Stormy nights were always the loudest. By the time he'd turned the corner, he could hear at least three shanties and a concertina.

The preserved fishing smack rocked on its hydraulic supports, grey figures spilling from the decks.

Nigel sighed, and went to the museum store room for rum.

In my head, this is how all museums work.

If you're a museum curator, please don't write in!

Episode 20: "Afternoon Out"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 20, for Sunday the twentieth of October 2024.

Afternoon Out

by Elizabeth Guilt

"Oh my god, oh my god, Bob's gone!"

"What?"

"He's gone! Just like that! Gone! Oh my god!" Harry snapped his pincers frantically.

"Calm down, calm down. He'll be back."

"He's gone! He saw a bit of food, and then just... Gone! Whisked away!"

"Stop panicking! This is always happening!"

Harry scuttled away in distress.

There was a distant splash, and Bob sidled nonchalantly over.

"Hey!"

"You OK?"

"Me? Oh, fine. Had a great afternoon. Lovely snack, then hung out in a bucket for a while with a couple of ladies. Beautiful shell, one of them. Did I miss anything?"

I was recently walking along the harbourfront in Whitby with a friend. Half a dozen families were dangling lines over the side, hauling up little crabs. The crabs aren't edible, and will eventually be tipped back into the harbour.

We spent our walk wondering what the crabs thought of the whole business.

Episode 19: "Skirmish"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 19, for Saturday the nineteenth of October 2024.

Skirmish

by Elizabeth Guilt

The war ended, and neither side truly won. The farmers brought in the harvest, and worshipped the Autumn God, just as they always had done. The colonists stayed. They settled in the rocky places, and thanked Arhayun for the good food they could buy.

The farmers threw water on Arhayun's bonfires; in return, the colonists toppled The Autumn God's cairns. Amid smoke, and screams, and sliding rocks, the war flashed back into life

The two gods shared a flagon of mead and shook their heads.

"How do we stop them?" asked Arhayun.

The Autumn God shrugged. "I don't know, brother."

Episode 17: "Sudden Autumn"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 17, for Thursday the seventeenth of October 2024.

Sudden Autumn

by Elizabeth Guilt

Lily loved the oak tree in their new house's garden. After a day of customer complaints swamping her optical feeds, connecting with nature was so important.

Stepping outside, she almost dropped her tea. The oak's branches were bare against the June sky, drifts of leaves piled brown on the grass.

She yelled up the stairs.

"Jase! Have you split up with your girlfriend again?"

A low moan, almost a sob, echoed back down. She sighed. Jase was so selfish.

Outside, Lily ran her fingers over the rough bark until the control panel popped. She wrenched the dial back to midsummer.

I've only just realised that this is the second drabble this October to feature a Lily. This Lily is, of course, not the Lily from "Don't Let Go", she just has the same name.

Years ago, I accidentally wrote a 10,000 word story in which two main characters had the same name. I did wonder why my beta-readers kept getting confused.

Episode 16: "Firedogs"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 16, for Wednesday the sixteenth of October 2024.

Firedogs

by Elizabeth Guilt

The feast-frenzied guests waited restlessly for the firedogs to dance against the midsummer sky. My lord, fury covering his fear, sent us to the cave.

"Prick them out!"

No red glow flickered, and I blundered in assuming it deserted. A hissing bulk loomed above me, then slumped to the floor.

I crept closer: lanternlight bounced back from a dull eye. One scaled beast coiled around the silent other, sweet breath gusting out like sobs. The odour was choking but, without its mate to blow bitter tar, stone cold.

My lord's pikemen would be useless. A firedog could not dance alone.

This story began its life as an 1000-word flash fiction, which contained a lot more detail about my lord's political situation. Decimating it - literally - to make it into a drabble was a very interesting exercise in working out which pieces were actually vital to the story.

Episode 8: "Wrath"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 8, for Tuesday the eighth of October 2024.

Wrath

by Elizabeth Guilt

"And Henry rode up with the head on his lance..."

"Don't be stupid."

"He did! Though he must have stopped at the ford to stick it there, just to show off. It'd be too heavy to ride far..."

"He wouldn't even be able to pick the lance up."

"Are you saying my brother didn't slay the dragon? I saw the head!"

"You liar."

"I'm not. It was the size of Farmer Brod's sow."

"What?"

"I've told you, he's killed..."

"Oh, gods. We're doomed."

"Henry's saved us!"

"That size? Henry killed a baby. We're not going to survive the mother's anger."

Episode 6: "Titration"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 6, for Sunday the sixth of October 2024.

Titration

by Elizabeth Guilt

After the earthquake, shorn power conduits shook and writhed until downtown was flooded with electric. Dirty, unaligned electric - no use to anyone, and lethal. The council set up cordons, and tried to explain they couldn't clean up yet. Couldn't plan operations until they knew the Wattage.

Which is where I come in, with my suitcase of ghosts. It works, and science guys hate it. Electric and ghosts don't mix - lit rooms give spectres no corner to hide. So I just let 'em out, one at a time, until there's enough to be visible.

37 ghosts. That's 14 TeraWatts.

You're welcome.

There is an idea, which I've heard a few times though I haven't been able to find out whose it was originally, that electricity killed ghost stories. Once rooms were well lit, people stopped seeing ghosts.

I like the idea that the ghosts are fighting back.

Episode 3: "Destiny"

A impressionist image of a figure walking down a curved tunnel of trees. Across the top in yellow block caps, "DRABBLETOBER".

Hello, and welcome to Drabbletober. This is episode 3, for Thursday the third of October 2024.

Destiny

by Elizabeth Guilt

She was born, red-haired and screaming, on the third full moon. The priests took up their chanting.

Her siblings, whom she never met, worked the fields; she was taught to read the scrolls.

They starved and huddled by the hearth; she ate banquets and slept on silk.

They fought among themselves; the priests waited for her to fulfil the Prophecy.

They laughed, and shouted, and danced, and ran; the priests waited for her to fulfil the Prophecy.

And yet, the priests were surprised beyond belief when she escaped out the window, and ran away with a band of strolling players.

It's amazing how many books start with a kid hearing about a prophecy and, lo and behold, by chapter ten there they are, growing into their own and fulfilling it.

I honestly think we need more books about people who hear a prophecy, and run rapidly in the opposite direction.