Drabble Set: Odd

We live in a highly social world, interconnected by internet and telephone and media, and living nearly on top of one another. But then, humans are highly social creatures. It’s built into our biology to need others—from cradle to grave, we desire and depend on those around us. We crave conversation and company, intimacy and touch and connectedness. It’s part of being human to want those things.

However, the same way that it’s merely human to desire them, it’s also human to go a little . . . odd without them. Not always, you understand, but often.

I did.

***

I can’t count the number of times I’ve wanted to reach out my hand and touch, only to pull back. Every hug, every handshake from friends or acquaintances is a tug-of-war: do I let it happen, or do I recoil?

That’s when I know it’s coming.

Then there are the times when I’m caught unaware; when a guest or a friend or just somebody-who-doesn’t-fucking-know-better comes up to me from behind. I flinch then. Sometimes I snap, too. The common, idle brushes from strangers—in a crowded line, or on the bus—are nearly unbearable. Those touches make my skin crawl.

***

I don’t know what “normal” is anymore. (But then, I’ve gone a little odd, so perhaps I may be forgiven.) How often am I “supposed” to desire the simple joy of human skin against my own? The clasp of a hand, a hug, human warmth?

The only sound I love more than that of a human heartbeat is that of the rain against my window when I’m alone. I won’t deny that I’m an odd creature, crippled by paradox. But if that’s so, it’s only how they made me. So forgive me.

Sometimes, other people can make you go odd.
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

Drabble?

Although I posted one, most people don’t know what a drabble is, so I’ll explain:

A drabble is a very short story. 100 words, to be exact.

Most people think, “But what can you say in 100 words?”

I thought, “What’s the point?”

As it turns out, it’s this: learning to write drabbles teaches clarity and directness. Every word has to matter. They teach self-editing, succinctness, and to optimize your vocabulary so that what might’ve taken you five words to say now only takes one.

In short, they make a better writer. But they’re still a pain in the ass.
~

Don’t believe you can actually say something in only 100 words? Do a word count of the above post. *wink*
~
I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

Drabble: Puzzle Pieces

It was one of those days—everything went wrong. I want to rage, scream, break something. I’m ready to fly to pieces. My lover looks up, sees me in the doorway.

“Come here.” When I’ve crossed the room, I kneel. I’m at her feet, my head on her knees and her fingers in my hair before I realize I’m trembling.

“Tell me.” The command is soft.

Only then do I come unglued, spilling and breaking. But it’s okay, because she has always been a master puzzler, understanding how all the pieces fit together. My pieces are safe in her hands.
~

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.