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Ninth December Drabble

The whispers... they are haunting me
They tell me only lies,
They claim that they all hold the key
To keep me from demise

Although I do not trust their call
I'm starting to believe,

That the choice might not be mine at all
I think I am starting to percieve

That I might be within their hold

And maybe there's no way out
And all that, that the voices told
Should not be struck by doubt

But yet I keep on moving on

I keep on fighting back
Yet all hope is not yet gone
Although the prospect's black

I call to you, I need you now

I need you more than ever
Although I cannot tell you how,
Please save me from this endeavour

The tears I cry, they all fall down

Into this last vial
If I no longer should be around
This will shatter your denial

Know then what you could have done
Know then what you've fled

You would have been the only one
My very last, small thread

Of hope to one day get out,
Of this nightmare that somehow I,

Cannot live with or without
You, the whispers, let me die

---

Word of the day:

twist in the wind
To be unassisted and without comfort in a situation likely to result in distress or failure.

Wordcount: 198

Fun factor: 1/5

Eight December Drabble

Katie had always hated to work with customer support. She hated to be the one to make people upset, kill their hope or even make them burst into tears. Of course she also got the chance to help people, but that didn’t change the fact that she felt like crap every time she had to turn someone down. Like only this morning, for instance. She had answered her phone and a middle-aged woman had answered, inquiring about one of their products.

“So you can see my order then in that computer of yours?”, the woman had asked.

“Yes, that's right m'am, so what is the issue you are having?”

“Well I only bought the one thing...”, the woman said and paused.

Katie was unsure if she was meant to answer to that or if the woman on the other end of the phone was simply hesitating, throwing around for words or thinking of how to express it the best. To be on the safe side she responded anyway. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Good... good..”, the woman responded absent-mindedly. “Well, the ruddy thing is broken, that's whats my issue, it wont turn on!”

“I see”, Katie replied. “And you made sure it wasn’t the batteries, tried with a different pair?

“I did that, yes, still no luck.”

“Well, in that case, I'll just have a package sent to you, free of charge of course, so that you can send it back to us, and we'll send you a new one.”

“Hrmpf... I was rather hoping that you would tell me how to repair it!”, the woman responded, rather grumpily.
“I'm sorry m'am, I'm no engineer, the best I can do is get you a new one.”

“Well”, the woman continued. “I screwed up the back and looked around to see what the problem could be, but I couldn’t make any sense of it whatsoever!”

Katie suddenly focused on the conversation more. Not again. Crap! “You... screwed it open, m'am?”

“That's right!”

“I'm sorry to say this – but that voids the warranty, it specifically says so in our terms of agreement.”

“So what?”, the woman retorted. Sounding rather aggressive now.

“So... that means that I cant help you after all. You have broken your part of the agreement, hence we cant fulfill ours.”

“That's rubbish that is! You're meaning to say you’re not going to replace this broken piece of crap?”

“I... I guess that's what I'm saying yes. I'm so sorry, but there's really nothing I can do, m'am.”

Katie then heard as the phone was thrown back on the receiver with a bang. It made her jump on her chair. With a sigh she straightened her headset, looked at the flashing buttons, but ignored them and instead went to the machine to get a cup of tea. This would be one of those days....

Word of the day:

rescind

Wordcount: 497

Fun factor: 2/5

Seventh December Drabble

Captain Bast had in his usual manner retired to the bar he often went to in between his great adventures, and as he often did, he was now telling the barman about his great adventures in between big gulps of rum.

"And then what happened?", the barman asked as he poured beer into a tall glass and handed it to a bearded man wearing a cloak.

"Arr, laddie, ye' see... I didn't know what to then", the Captain said and took a sip "but I trusted me gut, when all else fails, trust ye' gut, a lesson you outta remember me boy!" He took another sip. "Well...", he hiccuped. " - I knew I couldn't go back empty-handed now could I lad? Naah, I had to go on, so I picked a direction and went with it!” He chuckled.

The barman looked apprehensive. "Well?"

The captain tutted. "Calm down laddie, don't ye' go onto me like a ruddy sharkie now will ye'. I'll tell ye' what happened next! I found the ruddy place alright, I did - yes!" He nodded impressively as the barman pretended to go "Wow" and looked impressed. Would he get to the ruddy point already?

"I couldn't believe me ruddy eyes ye'kno... What luck eh! Who would'a thought! But I aint got me reputation for nothing ye'kno...!"

"So what was the treasure?", the barman asked eagerly.

"Awh, but now... I cant tell ye that, now can I laddie! Then you'll be liquoring me up and search me pockets the next thing I know!", he said aggressively as he raised his glass in a toast and hiccuped at the same time. He wasn't looking his best at the moment.

"I wouldn't!", said the barman and put on an innocent face. He didn't want to say any more. He wasn't that good of a liar.

"Arr... well, I guess it couldn't hurt, since I didn't bring it with me, laddie! Now listen closely!"

The barman nodded.

"The treasure wasn't one of the best I have found in me days, but it wasn't one of the worst either, mind you. Gold, ye' see, loads of it! And gemstones and trinkets. I even found a mighty fine sword, with a ruby-encrusted, golden hilt n'all!"

The barman looked impressed. And he was too, these things were becoming even more rare nowadays.

"Arr, yeah...", the captain said dramatically. "I wish I had known who they'd belonged to, ye'kno... then I could have felt even better if I could go there and laugh em in the face!" The captain chuckled heartily.

He took another sip. "Ah ye, laddie... What a treasure... but as I said, I didn't bring it with me, I hid it on the island of Cr-..."

The captain opened his eyes wide. "It's hidden, 'kay matey?", he said very quickly and took another sip.

The barman turned around and smirked. Two letters. He could do alot with two letters. Success again. What a great cover, to work as a barman.

---

Word of the day:

tip one's hand
To inadvertently reveal any secret, particularly a secret that puts one at an advantage or disadvantage.

Wordcount: 500

Fun factor: 3/5

Sixth December Drabble

Kacey had recently started a new job as a kindergarten teacher, and she had since her first hour on the job admitted to herself that she was completely inadequate for this position and didn’t enjoy it at all. She never would. She felt like Maria with all the von Trapp children, only – she had 23 of them, not “only” 7.

The morning had started... well, under control at least. But when all the kids came back from their first recess Kacey dreaded their coming back. What would they put her through this time?

The lesson they were about to have was supposed to teach the children some manners, by them painting pictures of how they act when they meet someone for the first time. It all went well... Kacey handed out papers and all the children got their individual crayon boxes out. But then it began.

A red-haired kid named Steven took as many of his own crayons as he could and started running along the walls with as many crayons pushed against it as he could muster.

“Steven! STOP THAT!”, Kacey called, as she saw black, red, purple and green lines forming on the walls. “Stop that immediately!”

The other kids had started to cheer him on. Kacey had to stop it. She got up from her chair. The children responded to this action by taking their own crayons and started throwing them at her.

“Ouch, stop it. Ow, no, stop it! You are hurting me!”, she yelled. The children laughed at her. But then quickly ran out of crayons. Had they planned all this?

As Kacey looked up again a few more children had started to paint on the walls. A few others had started to rip pages out of the books by the bookshelf. Two blonde-haired girls had run to the piano and was jumping on the keys, she could her some of them breaking with large cracks.

Kacey experienced how all sound disappeared. The kids moved in slow motion, her whole body seemed to ache. She filled her lungs with air. She then screamed as loud as she could, in the foulest language that she knew. She took another breath and then screamed some more. Blood was rushing in heir veins to her cheeks and forehead, she could feel her own face burning. Scalding hot. Some of the children stopped and gaped at her. Oh my god. What had she done.

It didn’t take long for one of her colleges to arrive, who quickly got a sense of the scene and took her by the arm and led her out of the room and at the same time instructed the children to go nowhere and to do nothing until she came back.

When Kacey had calmed down, it came as no surprise that she got fired. They said that she wasn’t amiable enough for the job... whatever that means..., but really, she wasn’t sad to go, on the contrary, relieved.

---

Word of the day:

amiable
Friendly; kind; sweet; gracious; as, an amiable temper or mood; amiable ideas.

Wordcount: 499

Fun factor: 2/5

Fifth December Drabble

Matt looked down at the scene, the camera at the ready. He needed to be careful with the angles, it all went so incredibly fast. He bent down, not daring to blink.

*

He had to get from here to there. He would have to jump. Would the weight of the big green thing slow him down so much that he would fall on the ground? Well he had to cross it one way or another, with the thing, without was not an option. If he had a running start maybe it would go better. He turned around, went a bit back, then turned back around and starting running, gripping the big green thing, three times his own size, with a firm grip and jumped. The fear of maybe not having enough speed to get across made time move as in slow motion. But with a big jolt he landed safely. He felt as the recoil from the impact made his legs tremble. Well at least he made it.Phew. Run, run, run.

*

Matt cursed. It had moved too quickly for him to capture. Maybe the next time. With disappointment Matt continued his stroll through the forest, at the same time deleting the blurry picture of the ant as he went.

---

Word of the day:

hexapod

Any organism or being with six legs.

Wordcount: 211

Fun factor: 4/5

Fourth December Drabble

It was a normal day in spring at the abbey and three of the monks were sitting in the kitchen, having a good time as usual by the large oak table. In the corner stood the massive stove in black stone and along the walls hung small icons of different saints and interpretations of jesus christ.

It was the usual gang of Anthony, who was round-faced and porky, Gall, who was skinny and gangly looking, and Munchin, who was very short and had stubby legs and arms.

They had just completed all the chores of the morning and were now about to whip something up for an early lunch, to avoid the rush of all the other monks in the kitchen. This was rather frowned upon by the other monks, but so was also many other things these three particular monks often chose to do spend their time on. Many thought that they shouldn’t be allowed to be in the abbey at all, many questioned their loyalty to the oaths they once took, but as they all said, only god can make those decision, and until he does, they just had to live with the reality until then and take the day as it comes.

The three friends had just decided that they didn’t feel like cooking and would rather just have some sandwiches when the abbot entered the kitchen, to spy on them, or perhaps just to get a snack. They started to bring out stuff from the cupboards and drawers. Anthony got the bread, Gall got the butter and Munchin found a jar of marmalade.

The abbot just stood there, watching the scene, obviously expecting some acknowledgement no doubt, but none came, he stood his ground however and refused to move or say anything until they greeted him. It was protocol, after all.

No greeting came however, instead he stood silently and watched as Munchin tried to get the marmalade jar open, but couldn’t, the lid was fastened too tight. A grin then spread across Munchin's face.

“Oi, abbot Odilo”, he called. The abbot's eyes instantly flickered onto his and started to burn him with their gaze. “You got a church key on you?”, he then asked and chuckled.

Both Anthony and Gall snickered at his joke but tried to hide it, it was highly inappropriate to joke at the abbot's expense, and even more so to laugh at him.

“Good one, Munchin”, Anthony called and covered his mouth with his fist to conceal his attempts to stop laughing.

“Here you go”, Gall said and handed Munchin one from a drawer close by.

“Aye, thanks.”

Abbot Odilo just shook his head, and with a very saddened expression he left the kitchen. Why was he faced with this challenge? Grief, jealousy, sadness and disputes were things he could handle. But disrespectfulness went deeper. One day... maybe, they would find the light.

---

Word of the day:

church key

Wordcount: 487

Fun factor: 5/5

Third December Drabble

Gilbert worked as a waiter at a local restaurant and was experiencing a particularly boring and long day. His legs and feet were aching from running back and forth, sitting down, standing up, carrying things and bending over. He snorted at the fact that some people though his job sounded glamorous, and they would simply not believe him when he said that it was closer to slave labour than anything else he knew.

With a sigh he saw when two new customers walked in through the front door. Unwillingly and feeling very sorry for himself he swung his body forward on the chair and with a spring in his step jolted up to a standing position and started to glide to the table the new arrivals had sat down at.
“G'day, sir and madam”, he said politely and bowed is head slightly at the man and woman sitting at the table. “Here are your menus, tonight's special is roasted duck with sweet potato, accompanied by a port-wine reduction.”

The waiter expected some kind of acknowledgement from the gentleman whom he had addressed, but the man was simply staring at him, not saying a word. Maybe he wanted something?

“Do you have any questions, sir?”, he asked and looked at the man.

The man then started speaking very fast in a language Gilbert didn't know or recognized.
“I'm sorry?”, he asked as soon as the man fell silent.

The man seemed to repeat a phrase of what he had just said.

“I'm very sorry sir, but I don't understand you, do you know any english?”, he then asked. Feeling furious inside himself that people went into places without even knowing how to say hello, paying, or even point at the dishes in the menu, he could at least work with that!

“One moment”, he then said and held up his palm and then pointed to the kitchens and then he pointed at this own mouth.

The man nodded and watched him go as he took off for the kitchens. Would this day never end?

His workmates in the kitchens weren’t that impressed with him with he asked them if anyone were good with languages, when he even couldn’t guess where the people were from or even micic the language they were speaking they all became rather exasperated with him. At last a chef named Laureen accompanied him out back to the table. She told Gilbert that she spoke 6 languages all in all and would probably have a decent shot at comprehending some of it, if it wasn’t too exotic.

She was right, she later told Gilbert that the couple were lusophones, but that were able to converse the necessities at least. Gilbert had no idea what a lusophone was, he later found out that it means someone who speaks portuguese. Great, now he felt aching, miserable, tired and on top of all that un-educated. Would this day never end?

---

Word of the day:

Lusophone
Portuguese-speaking.

Wordcount: 495

Fun factor: 5/5

Second December Drabble

”Faster, Buttons, faster! We must hurry!”

”Stop nagging me, Cobble, you have longer legs than I, that's why!”

”Nonsense, you're just lazy! And watch where you put that thing, it's fragile!” He was talking about one of the burlap sacks that they both were carrying over their shoulders.

Buttons ceased the opportunity to make a very ugly grimace at Cobble's back as the hurried forth in the tunnels, their eyes barely being able distinguish all the nooks and crannies in the darkness. They were on their way back to Magrica, the head. And she would get very angry if they ended up coming late.

They reached the tunnel that led into their headquarters. Cobble did the secret knock on a secret spot on the wall, that was connected by threads to a tin can, so that Magrica knew it was them.

A few moments later Magrica came and opened for them, without a word she gazed down upon them as the scattered past her, taking their positions around the round table in the middle of the room.

“Well?”, she growled as she closed the door behind them and turned around to face them at the same time as they emptied their loot onto the table.

As they trembling picked up all their items and put them in neat rows and piles on the table, Magrica started circling the table, looking down her nose at the rows of different foods and treasures.

“Any cheese?”, she asked faintly, as if daring them to displease her by answering no.

“Alas, m'am, we couldn't any, not any at all, smell our breaths if you don’t believe us.”, Cobble replied in a squeaky voice.

Magrica stared at him as if he was something disgusting that barely deserved her attention. “I rather not”, she said cooly.

Magrica took another lap around the room until she saw something small and golden tucked away in the middle of the big pile on the table. “What's this?”, she asked and looked at Buttons this time.

“G-g-g-gold, m'am”, he replied in a trembling voice.

“Gold, really?”, she asked, starting at Buttons with a burning gaze.

“I believe so, yes, m'am”, he replied.

Magrica took up the large gold coin and positioned it between her very large front teeth and bit down on it. “Hm, I guess it'll do”, she said sternly. “Leave all this here, but do try to find some cheese next time, wont you?”

“Yes m'am.”

“Now, begone, I have things to attend to”, Magrica said and gestured to the door.

After Buttons and Cobble had went out of the door she went to the back of the room and opened a padlocked door hidden behind a tapestry. In there lay the finest aged cheeses imaginable, a respectable collection, but she had to be hard to keep it so. It's not always easy, to be a classy mouse.

---

Word of the day:

echt
proper, real, genuine, true to type.

Wordcount: 495

Fun factor: 4/5

First December Drabble

The inn lay dark and empty this night as any other, according to some, due to it's awful reputation. The owner however, Mr. Crane, claimed it was due to the holiday season being over. Although, if that was to be true, the holiday season ended many years ago. Many people were confused of the fact that the inn could still be running, the owner couldn't have that great of a salary, considering the cost of the upkeep and the very scarce number of visitors. This had led to speculations, which had turned into rumors about the owner conducting illegal smuggling on the side, which had dampened the inn's already stained reputation even more.

Even so, visitors still came and went. A backpacker had one night gotten lost in the village and was dead tired when he saw the old and gnarled sign of the inn creaking and swinging back and forth in the slight evening breeze, it's once bright letters, now smudged by years of dirt and soot, illuminated by the last light of the day.

The backpacker first wondered if the inn was open or not, but when he turned the handle, the door opened slowly. ”Hello?”, he called shortly after he had stepped over the threshold. ”Anyone here?”

Mr. Crane who had been snoozing off in his usual manner behind the greeting desk awoke with a faint grunt. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. ”Aye?” He looked around. ”Oh a visitor! Welcome, welcome. A room for the night, is it?”

”Please.”, the backpacker responded.

After a few moments of conversing they decided on a room, when Mr. Crane offered the backpacker to join him for a nightcap. The backpacker gladly accepted. He needed some winding down after a long day of walking.

Mr. Crane led the backpacker to the dining hall. Only a few of all the round tables looked as they had been used recently, since the rest of them were all covered in a respectable layer of wooly dust.

“So where are ye' from?”, Mr Crane asked politely as he went to get a pair of glasses from a cupboard in the corner.

“I rather not say, if you don’t mind”, the backpacker responded rather stiffly.
Mr. Crane froze with his hand on the second glass. Secrets? Why could that be? He quickly changed his mind as a faint smile spread across his weatherbeaten features and picked up another, rather special glass instead.

They started to make pleasant smalltalk as Mr. Crane poured dark liquids in both glasses, at the same time being cautious to give his visitor the right one. Shortly afterwards the backpacker's glass fell out of his hand with a clank, as he collapsed on the table. Smirking, Mr. Crane hurried to the phone to make a call, not thinking, nor caring, that his recent actions had led to yet even more bad reputation, as a pool of drool started to form beneath the backpacker's open mouth.

---

Word of the day:

Semi-smile n.
A faint smile; a surpressed smile or forced smile.

Wordcount: Exactly 500! HA!

Fun factor: 3/5

Welcome to the December Drabbles Project!

This project is created by a friend of mine, the owner of this blog: http://maleneblogs.blogspot.com/

The project's goal is to use ”word of the day” and from that word write a short drabble, this to practice writing and creativity.

Rules: Must be between 100-500 words. Post every day, and do not cheat. Work in the word of the day either metaphorically or include the word.

Let's get them buttons burning people!