“Don’t tell me the moon is shining;— Anton Chekhov
show me the glint of light on broken glass.”
A drabble is a short work of fiction of precisely one hundred words in length. I was inspired to write this one by observing the psychological warfare between cats.
They met every day.
The tabby cat appeared first, and took her place atop the old weathered table in the middle of the veranda. There she lay like a queen, her white paws tucked in, secure in her high ground advantage. The ginger cat came later and settled on the floor, never more than two metres away from the table.
They never played, never fought, never acknowledged each other’s existence in any way. Their relationship was a study in pretend indifference. A waste of time, to our human mind, but who were we to judge that inscrutable mystery, the cat.
A short humorous drabble I wrote a while ago.
“Go on then, have a bite,” said the Serpent.
Eve looked down at the fruit. Contrary to the popular paintings, it was a tangerine.
“Come on, don’t you want to be kicked out? An eternity of raw food and this moron for company?” The Serpent pointed at Adam, who scratched himself as he struggled to name a horsey creature with a single horn in its forehead. His beard was caked with the remains of last night’s meal. He hadn’t said thank you for dinner, then or ever.
Eve glanced at Adam, sighed, and began to peel the tangerine.
Six principles that make for a good story, according to Anton Chekhov:
- Absence of lengthy verbiage of a political-social-economic nature
- Total objectivity
- Truthful descriptions of persons and objects
- Extreme brevity
- Audacity and originality: flee the stereotype
I thought it was time to replay my beloved Ultima games, and since I now have a habit of writing I thought I would also blog about the experience. I found that blogging about playing a game is actually very similar to writing about travel; you pick the funny/weird/interesting details that stick in your mind.
The blog can be found here, or under the Ultima menu under the header.