An Invitation

At midnight, under a crescent moon, the invitation arrived. Embossed on black card, its silver letters promised an evening of “unforgettable experiences”. Curiosity nudged Clara towards acceptance. The address led to a dilapidated mansion, its silhouette highlighted against the night sky.

Inside, masked figures danced in silence, their movements too smooth, too precise. When a masked stranger offered a hand, she hesitated, then accepted.

The moment their hands touched, the room spun. The dancers stopped, their eyes on her, gleaming with hunger. Clara understood too late—the invitation was not for entertainment, but a selection. And she had been chosen.

A Drabble – exactly 100-words long.

Abyss of Space

In the abyss of space, an otherworldly creature lurks, born from ancient stardust and cosmic nightmares. Its grotesque form, writhes in the vacuum, its drool crystallising in the cold. 

Eyes like frozen moons stare unblinkingly, reflecting a universe indifferent to its existence. With each silent scream, it echoes the solitude of the dark, a guardian of the void. 

It is both the hunter and the hunted, a being that defies reality, twisting the fabric of the cosmos with its mere presence. 

It is the unknown that whispers in the back of astronauts’ minds as they peer into the endless night.

A Drabble – a story told in exactly 100-words.

The End

I remember the laughter. Echoes of it, anyway. Mum’s face, her smile like the rarest of sunbeams in perpetual gloom. But that was another life, before the clouds came to stay. Now, I stand in the wake of a city’s fall, a lone wisp of innocence in a monochrome world. They say kids are resilient, but they don’t know how silence sounds when there’s no one left to break it. How can I dream when the nights are louder than days? They’re gone – everyone. I clutch my old teddy, Mr. Tibbs. “We’ll watch together,” I whisper. “Watch the world end.”

A Drabble – a story told in exactly 100-words.

Master Brewer

In a realm where stars mingled with teapots, Master Brewer Alphonsus worked day and night. His celestial home, a sprawling, steam-powered teapot, was an interstellar marvel. Copper walls shimmered against the cosmic backdrop, its majestic spout casting a warm, golden glow on the floating tea gardens.

Alphonsus was a master of the art of cosmic tea. His brews, infused with stardust, could soothe the most turbulent black hole, make nebulae swirl in delight. Tonight, he concocted a special blend, one that promised to calm the tempest raging in the heart of the Andromeda galaxy.

The universe waited in hushed anticipation.

A Drabble – a story of exactly 100-words.

Morning Coffee

At dawn, the café’s aroma promised solace. Tom, its sole patron, cradled the steaming cup, seeking warmth in the bitter liquid. The steam began a sinuous dance, twirling upwards, defying the morning calm. Gradually, it twisted into a figure, grotesque, unearthly. The figure leaned closer, its features sharp and ethereal, its breath cold as it hovered over the brew. Tom’s eyes widened in silent horror. The figure’s whisper was a hiss, “We are watching you.” With a blink, it vanished. Tom’s cup clattered against the table, the coffee untouched. He left, the taste of his fear heavier than any espresso.

A Drabble – a story of exactly 100-words.