I just submitted one. Actually two, but went back and wrote the second one in a hurry, because I completely missed the post with the specific challenge in it.
Duh-OH, deb
'Sleeper'
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
I just submitted one. Actually two, but went back and wrote the second one in a hurry, because I completely missed the post with the specific challenge in it.
Duh-OH, deb
I just joined. This should be fun. One hundred words is probably the most I can write at the moment, with Princess Crankypants not napping much...
Sounds like a great idea, Steph. I'm in.
Make sure to check the actual journal also, and not just the info page, because I posted the first challenge already, even though it will normally be posted on Mondays. Provided I remember.
I did my first drabble.
Go me! I got my words out!!!
You sure did, and they're damned good words, too.
Still thinking. And under the influence of Demon Fanfic too.
Teppy, it just occurs to me - should we post them here?
I mean, fic gets posted in the fic thread; should your original fiction drabbles be posted here?
You could post them here if you want to; I tell you, it's not "my" drabble community. All I did was set it up, and I'll post a challenge once a week.
I'm just thrilled to see that people like it, and that it's getting people to write. (Which reminds me that I need to write my own drabble.)
I think posting them here would be a good thing; people without livejournal could read them.
I've done two. One's a non-specific, one (dayum!) my first Ringan and Penny that isn't between hard covers. And I've only just realised - thematically, they're opposites, sad'nglad.
Over
This is almost over.
She moves her coffee cup, imprecise little twists. It's nerves, nothing more. She knows it irritates him; once, a day or an hour or a century ago, she would have stopped, apologised. That time is long past.
He pushes his plate away. This is a travesty, a joke. He looks at the papers in the centre of the table. Just paper, and a pen. They might as well be a flaming sword.
She lifts her eyes. There's nothing in them to make him stay.
He takes up the pen, and signs the divorce papers.
Over, now.
---
Breakfast in Glastonbury
Penny sits across the breakfast table, her cloudy hair tousled, her feet bare.
“Tea?”
“Mmm.”
Ringan pours her a cup, adds sugar and cream. Her storm-coloured eyes are still misted with sleep. Her life in the theatre has made her a night owl; she’s never been quick to wake in the morning.
She sips the tea, and smiles at him. He regards her across plates and cups and sheet music, remembering other mornings like this one. Realising that, no matter how many there may be, there will never be enough of them, he leans across the table to kiss her.