Here is the one and only drabble I have ever, and will probably ever, write, and I wrote it just for you, you wonderful person.

“Gods, what happened?” he breathed over hospital beeps, eyeing the bandages and tubes in my chest.

“Lydia happened.”

“Lydia? But she’s your wife.”

“She walked into the kitchen with a gun. Don’t know where she got it. I was baking, and she walks in with the gun and says I’ve always wanted to do this. I’m dreaming now, so I can do it. And I said, no, you’re not dreaming, I’m not dreaming, we’re actually here, you’re actually going to shoot me, but you know how it is, you can never believe anyone who isn’t you. So she shot me.”

Mostly I lurk. I love JRR Tolkien's work and I have a master's degree in General Nerdery.