Festival Day

The correct name for a 100-word story is a Drabble, and they are supposed to be exactly 100 words long excluding the title. I have amended this one which was on a Drabble site a few years ago, so now it is exactly 100 words long. 


It was a festival day and I longed to see what was going on. A stage with music playing, blocked by the crowd standing at the front. Stalls covered in brightly coloured shapes labelled ‘hand-made crafts’, and crowds thronging around them- carousel, children on a bouncy swing  called a spider’s web. Teenagers pedalling furiously on pedal-power bikes to fuel the generator.
But whenever I try to move closer, the wire mesh bars my way. There are no special days for me – every day is the same, sitting on the same perches, in the aviary at the centre of the park.



Monster Eyes

Here’s a Drabble (100- word story) for the Halloween season.

Witches can see ghosts, and ghosts can tell whether someone is a witch. But zombies don’t see anyone: they only smell the flesh of the living. Vampires scent blood from a long way away, like sharks, so they too don’t actually need to see. The yeti, being an abominable snowman, is snow blind, while skeletons have dry and empty eye-sockets.

I suppose all these speculations are rather a waste of time. Whichever creature I decide to dress up as for the fancy-dress party, there is no need for me to go invisible. I might as well let everyone see me.



Here’s another  Drabble (100-word story):


After I did up the button on my cardigan, I kept my finger on the button. By following my finger, I threaded my whole body through the buttonhole. The fabric pinched my head as it jerked through to the cardigan’s lining, where the long row of buttons formed a control panel leading straight into cyberspace. By pushing the first button I could go to Google, the second led to YouTube, and so on with all the others which took me to different sites.

I’ve seen enough now, so I am going to come out through the speaker on your computer.




Flood Defences      

Just as summer is starting, the beach has been closed. I’ll have to find another place to go.

I step into a time machine and visit Rome, trying to keep my eye on the exquisitely designed temples instead of on gladiators being made to fight to the death. Then I jump into a space ship and soar to another galaxy where I inspect blobby people with arms like tweezers. Next, I dive to the bottom of the sea and follow a squid riding a plankton raft towards cherry pink coral reefs.

I still like the beach across the road best.


This is a drabble (100 word story).


Ref. 100 Word Challenge For Grown Ups on the Julia’s Place blog.


Thinking positively made me a positivist like my father. As a leading Logical Positivist he was an inspiration for Mr Spock and many professors, although hated by philosophy students as they struggle to understand his beliefs, and mine too because I have added my own innovations to his.

They long to associate positive with cheerfulness and optimism, rather than a dry and dusty set of pronouncements that are so difficult to get their heads around that by the end of it they are dreading the exams- which is pretty negative.