Happy Thursday! As any college student knows, Thirsty Thursdays are a day to live it up and leave regretting your life choices for tomorrow, so today’s Gluttony Day word is…
Hedonist: a person who dedicates his or her life completely to the pursuit of pleasure.
Mac held up a brownie, winked at Tammy, and took a bite. She still refused to try edibles, despite her overbearing sweet tooth. It’s why everyone called her Tape Worm Tammy—no matter what she ate, she stayed bone thin.
This thought began to bother him. It bothered him as much as the sudden high. Pot doesn’t come on this strong.
Tammy wriggled, crawling out of her skin, a mass of worms disguised in a sexy flesh suit. They chortled, their infinite squirming selves having added a few special ingredients to his brownie recipe, preparing their meal for the feast.
Hope you liked this drabble! If you did, be sure to check out my latest release, These Walls Don’t Talk, They Scream. It’s a novel, not a drabble, mind you.
If you’re a writer, you might also consider submitting to the sci-fi/horror anthology I’ll be editing for Blood Bound Books, titled Crash Code.
Either way, thanks for stopping by. Talk to you soon!
Blood Bound Books is now accepting submissions for Crash Code, an extreme-meets-cyberpunk anthology…
…and I’m the editor!
That’s right, folks. I’ll be guest editing this anthology. It pays 3 cents a word, takes stories 1.5k to 7k words long, and is gonna be bad ass, so hurry up and get your stories in!
See the full submission call here.
Here a free drabble for you! “Temptation,” by me.
I caught my wife eating the cat. I wanted to make a joke, but she wouldn’t have taken it well. Marriage is hard enough when you’re not intentionally pissing off the wife by calling her a lesbian.
“Don’t tell Casey.” Her only request. Blood staining her mouth from a fresh kill, a new shade of lipstick, she kept our daughter in mind. Laura loved her enough to want to protect her from this, just not enough to protect the pet.
“Don’t worry. I won’t.” I wasn’t mad at her. How could I blame her?
I’d just finished eating our daughter.
Here’s a free drabble for you! Be careful at the gym, folks. Pride doesn’t build muscles…
He loved bulking more than anything. Screw those pretty boys with the flat abs and chiseled jaws, because Einar had his ancestors’ body, born from a thousand years of Viking raids. Thick with muscle, empowered by history, he gripped the barbell, ready to bench a weight that bent the metal.
One. His arms shook a little.
Two. He kept his bloodshot eyes on the ceiling.
Three. A little more shaking. The plates rattled.
Four. Tension built in his neck. He shook his head, refusing a spotter.
Five. His right arm snapped. He never got a chance to scream.
Here’s a free drabble for you, but I’ll give you this trigger warning upfront: if you’re a college student currently working on final papers, skip this. Just go somewhere else, finish your homework, then, I dunno, play hopscotch or something innocent and happy.
Danny screamed. The whole library turned to look, but he wouldn’t stop. Even as the librarian issued a trademarked, hundred-decible shush, he wouldn’t, couldn’t cut the noise. He dug his fingers down his face, drawing blood from trenches that soldiers might’ve hidden in.
We had two days left in the semester—two days left to turn in all our work, so nobody gave a shit why he was screaming.
“Shut up, asshole!” Somebody yelled.
He raced from the room. His screaming didn’t stop until he threw himself from the roof.
His computer screen read. Hard drive error—‘Thesis.docx’ corrupted. Deleting…
I’m really excited about this one, folks. Won’t say too much yet, though–only that it’s coming May 25th, and it’s already hearing whispers of becoming a movie…
via These Walls Don’t Talk, They Scream