"A Little Tied Up," "Unusual Jewelry," And "Prison Pen Pal": Three New Drabbles

Okay, so it's been far too long since I've done some original writing on this blog. Being a writer by trade and by hobby, I can only go so long without getting an idea or two (or three) for a story. Once the idea is there, I simply have to write it. These three drabble-and-a-half's (150 words each) are hot off the presses, so to speak (meaning I just wrote them this morning). They're all a little twisted, but I think you might find something interesting in one or two or all of them. Enjoy?

"A Little Tied Up"

I'd like to tell you that I'm fine. I'd like to say that I'm confident everything will be okay, that this too will pass. I'd like to be able to give you hope that when you wake up tomorrow morning, I'll be there beside you. But my hands are bound behind my back, a filthy rag is stuffed inside my mouth, and a gun is pointed at my head. I don't know the identity of my captor. I'm trying not to look at him, hoping that if I never see his face he'll let me live. But I've seen all the movies and TV shows. This never ends happily. The cops are not on their way. You aren't racing to my rescue, because you don't even know I'm in danger. I'd like to say I'm alright, but I know I'm not. So I'll simply say goodbye, and I love you.

"Unusual Jewelry"

My bracelet stinks and may already be rotting. My necklace is cold and wet against my chest. My ring is cutting off my circulation, and I'm pretty sure I just saw it moving a bit. None of this makes any sense to me, but I'm doing what they told me to do. Our leaders said that the garlic, the mint leaves, and the earthworms would protect us from the evil ones. But I don't feel protected. I feel crazy. What's worse, I look ridiculous. I can't go out in public like this. But then again, I wouldn't anyway. The silent ones, the sleepwalkers – they're out there waiting for us. The darkness is their domain and I would truly be crazy to venture out into it. So I'm sitting, and I'm waiting. All dressed up and nowhere to go. But at least I'm alive. And for now, I suppose that's enough.

"Prison Pen Pal"

Dear Babycakes,

I can't wait to see you this weekend. I hope they'll let me stay longer this time. Probably not. Jerks! I wish you was out here with me so we could spend every single second of every single minute of every single day together. I just know they're going to let you out soon. I pray for that day. I dream about it all the time. People keep telling me all these crazy stories about you, about how you killed all them kids and burned their bodies. Well, I don't believe a word of it. I know you, and I know you would never hurt a fly. You told me yourself you were innocent, and I believe you. I know you'd never hurt me like that, neither. You're a good person. And I can't wait till the day when I get to become your wife.

Yours forever,

Julya