About the Newsletter
Welcome to the tenth edition of Quirky Quickies. You will enjoy 100-word fictional stories that will delight your senses and bring a smile to your face. Every Tuesday, I will publish an issue including three stories.
These micro stories, aka Drabbles, are exactly 100 words. No more. No less.
I aim to brighten your day and keep you coming back for more!
If you missed the first issues, feel free to read the others at:
Without further ado, onto the Drabbles!
Three Quirky Quickies
A Biscuit’s Family Tree
Jade was determined to bake for her office party, despite her limited culinary skills. She pulled out the tray and stared at the charred lumps.
"Son of a biscuit!" she yelled, waving smoke out of her face.
Her roommate, Glory popped in. "Did you really say 'Son of a biscuit'?"
Jade squinted. "Haha. Do you think they look alright?"
Glory picked one up, dropped it, and winced as it hit the floor with a thud. “Looks more like a biscuit's grandpa.”
Jade groaned. “Forget it, I’ll buy freshly baked ones at the store.”
Glory chuckled. "Then you'll have newborn biscuits!"
The First Step, er…Run
Evie stared at the treadmill like it was a tax audit—unpleasant, unavoidable, and slightly terrifying. “Might as well rip off the bandaid.”
She stepped on, hit "start," and the machine jolted to life at a pace somewhere between "lazy stroll" and "chasing an ice cream truck." Five minutes later, she was drenched in sweat and convinced the treadmill was plotting her demise.
Her fitness tracker beeped: Calories burned: 12.
“Seriously?” she gasped. “I burn more calories watching Netflix!”
Just then, the treadmill's belt sped up.
“Fine! I’m moving!” Evie huffed, breaking into a jog. “But you're getting unfriended after this.”
The Ball Whisperer
Jane had never bowled before. She grabbed the ball, squinted at the pins, and let it roll. It wobbled. It spun. It… stopped halfway down the lane.
“Is that allowed?” Jane asked.
She looked at her friend, Heather. She shrugged, "You didn't hit the pins. No points this frame."
The ball started to roll back toward them. “That’s definitely not allowed,” Heather muttered.
When the ball reached Jane, it whispered, “Try again.” Jane blinked. “Did you hear that?”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it said, ‘Please, for the love of bowling, aim better.’” Jane sighed. “Even the ball’s judging me.”
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In "The First Step," I love "a pace somewhere between "lazy stroll" and "chasing an ice cream truck."" Wonderful!
lol I think you were truly inspired by my lack of sporting prowess this week Erica! I could sure relate anyway!