The first fourteen of these are "drabbles" - about a 100 words or so each - written in response to The Drabble Game prompts on The Delphic Expanse forum from 2011 to 2015. I'm posting here on AO3 since I plan on adding to these as more warm up exercises for my upcoming multi-chapter fics.
100 word dribbles will be posted 5 at a time in a single "chapter". Anything longer than that gets its own chapter. I'll be updating this one randomly with new short pieces, so be sure to subscribe.
As a holiday gift to my readers, from now until January 1st 2020, I'm taking requests. Leave a review for any one of my stories, and include a word prompt at the end of your review. (Please leave an actual review, and not just the word prompt? Reviews are cherished gifts to fanfic writers!) I'll do a 100 word (or longer if the muse strikes me) drabble for you and post it here.
Drabble #1.
Prompt was "clinging".
He cursed in six different languages.
"We invented a ship that can travel faster than the speed of light!" Pots rattled. "We created a device that can chop you up into tiny little bits ("Dematerialize", squeaked Crewman Cunningham from a safe distance across the room) and send you from here to there in the blink of an eye!" A rolling pin fell off the table.
"But in all the decades of scientific progress," raged Chef as he tore off another sheet, "could no one invent a plastic wrap that would stop clinging to itself?!"
oOo
Drabble #2.
Prompt was "bliss".
A glass of wine?
Nah.
A luxurious massage perhaps?
Nice, but no.
A long, lingering kiss by a special someone?
Tempting, very tempting. But not quite.
Chocolate?
No. Not even that.
After the day she'd had, slogging though the endless rain of this planet, stumbling through mud and muck filled streets as she kept up with the diplomatic entourage to provide her expertise in translation, nothing, thought Hoshi as she rested her forehead against the cool tile and breathed a long sigh of utter contentment, absolutely nothing, could compare to the ultimate bliss …
… of a hot shower.
oOo
Drabble #3.
Prompt was "smoke".
T'Pol came to an abrupt stop on the suspension walk as the shuttlepod's rear hatch opened and thick black smoke rose up towards the launch bay ceiling. Before she could move again, three men stumbled out of the pod and collapsed against the stairs. For several moments the only sounds were coughing and T'Pol's page of Dr. Phlox.
"What happened?"
"I don't know," said Trip, his voice raw.
"Travis deserves a medal for - literally - flying blind," added Archer between coughs.
The helmsman smiled weakly. "Thanks. But maybe we'd better use the transporter until Commander Tucker figures out what happened."
oOo
Drabble #4.
Prompt was "game".
Trip coughed as the dust rose, "I don't think anybody's been up here in decades."
T'Pol peered into the attic from her vantage point on the top of the stairs. "Your grandmother was insistent regarding an antique you and I should have. She also seemed … amused."
Trip grinned. "A strange sense of humor is a Tucker trait ... wait. What's this?" He held out a crumbling bit of cardboard. "Didn't she say it was a old game?"
T'Pol took it carefully. "It says ... 'Twister'." An eyebrow went up. "I don't see what could be amusing about it."
Trip's grin grew as he read the yellowed instruction sheet. "I do."
oOo
Drabble #5.
Prompt was "peanuts".
"It won't budge."
"Commander Tucker said he'd be here in a moment."
Travis stared at the door to his quarters in frustration, oblivious to the crowd gathering behind him, before jabbing at the controls again. A loud pop – and suddenly the door slid open, followed by an avalanche of what appeared to be ...
... packing peanuts.
Travis picked one up. Recyclable packing peanuts. The kind that filled cargo crates and, he looked up, his quarters.
The corridor behind him erupted into snorts of laughter and he stood, speechless, as Crewman Rostov handed the helmsman a genuine shovel.
"Never prank the Chief Engineer, Ensign."
