yet what they seek could be found

Title: Two Weeks
Warnings: Language, mention of sex
Word Count: 100


“Brian’s cheating on you,” her best friend blurts after fidgeting all lunch, trying to drop the bombshell gently.

Oh.

Monica blinks, suppressing a one-shouldered shrug, as Kelly rushes in with disaster relief. “You deserve so much better than that asshole…” She hadn’t known, but she’s not surprised. Brian hasn’t been with her.

Yesterday, she gave them two more weeks, tops. They never fight. Warmth and laughter faded into coexistence, occasional banter, mutually convenient lies.

She was supposed to have a ‘romantic’ dinner with Brian tonight. She will.

She might as well make the most of two weeks of enjoyable sex.


Notes: Inspired by the prompts Crane White #17 (We'll fill our mouths with cinnamon) and Bittersweet #7 (the way things were) at rainbowfic, "smoke and mirrors" and the theme "incite" on this bingo card, "Nothing" at fiction_drabbles, this at daily_prompt, and this image at stayintheroom.

Title: Angel's Demons
Warnings: Violence, implied past child abuse
Word Count: 100


When Lily gets angry, she gets angry.

Everyone knows that Lily is an angel; in her floating, light-colored dresses, she even looks like one. She always says 'please' and 'thank you', she happily gives away the bigger share, and her words brighten anyone as surely and sincerely as her smile.

No one knows that she was expelled twice, the first time for bruising a boy's face and shoving his favorite teddy in his mouth.

Lily represses her demon's stirrings, sick and terrified. But the demon has power—and though she can't remember why, she always feels like she needs it.


Notes: Inspired by the prompts Crane White #15 (A wicked wind will blow your ribbons from your curls) and Bittersweet #2 (memories) at rainbowfic, "desperate" and the theme "incite" on this bingo card, "Impulsive" at fiction_drabbles, this at daily_prompt, and "mirrored" at dailyprompt.
Portraits: Lily (made)

Title: More
Word Count: 100
Notes: For the prompt "Crisis" at fiction_drabbles.


He unlocked his front door with thoughts awhirl. The latest victim’s sister had found a store receipt that…

Natalie sat in a chair, waiting, with two bags packed. Blinking, he blurted, “What’s this about?”

She rose deliberately, eyes iced with respect. “John.” A euphemistic slur. “You’re doing important work. I hope you get him. I just can’t be here anymore.”

He raised his hands, placating, pricked with irritation as his deliberations scattered. “Honey, wait. Let’s talk―”

“Now you want to talk?” Bitterness, veiled as she gathered her bags. “Let’s be real.”

“You hate him more than you ever loved me.”

Title: Discount
Word Count: 100
Notes: For the prompt "Help" at fiction_drabbles.


Her eyes snorted. Sophia spoke patiently. "I hired Marcell. Where is he?"

"Give me a chance." The spindly boy in a drooping coat held her eyes with his, big and round like oil pools.

Gutsy imbecile. "Want to die, boy?" she fired. "This is a master's job."

"I'll do it for $2000." Barely 2% of Marcell's exorbitant rate. "And―you take me into the Veiled City."

Tempting, if she had time to kill. The floors of his eyes plunged into fathomless wells. Hers flared. He had the power, but the honed skill…?

"Deal." For her amusement, Sophia wasn't gambling her life.


Portraits: Sophia (made), "Boy" (made)

Title: Message, Part 1
Pairing: F/M
Word Count: 100
Notes: Written for the prompt "Desk" at fiction_drabbles. This will have a sequel drabble.


They called her Anna Belle. Her auburn waves and sparkling eyes won her many suitors.

One gave her side-splitting laughs and sandcastles; another, perfume and gold-chained pearls.

She loved the first and, threatened with disownment, married the second. Her Jamie moved away. Her husband was industrious, stoic―stone to her fire―but kind. In treacherous moments, she liked him. In seven years, he died.

Anna weeps.

At her desk, on a torn sheet from her journal (her husband’s gift), she writes to her lost love. She hurls the bottled message from their beach.

She does not hurl herself after, clinging to one-in-a-billion.

Title: Reversal
Word Count: 100
Notes: My first drabble, written for the prompt "Destroy" at fiction_drabbles.


He’s wearing a gold-buttoned velvet coat, gold-threaded tie, gold cufflinks: a dragon’s hoard dumped on her dull floor. Even begging for rescue, his posture demands that she be grateful to breathe his air.

It’s easy to be arrogant, out-of-touch, delusional in his world of balls and banquets and games that frivolously draw blood. That was her world, until:

"You destroyed me."

He recoils from her thanks. His eyes mourn diamond wristwatches and caviar.

"Let me repay the favor."

She applauds him, if he can claw his way up in the real world; she expects to be delighted when he cannot.