Anyway, probably the first drabble I ever read was Neil Gaiman's "Nicholas Was", and seeing it again on his blog gave me kind of a good feeling. He just calls it a hundred-word story, but I'm pretty sure it was published at some point in a collection called Drabble, and I wonder when the word was originally coined.
Here's a neat thing: "Nicholas Was" is fanfiction too, in its way. What backstory has been developed better than this one?
Because I lurves you, here are two of my own. THEY ARE OLD. The first was published in my college's literary magazine, probably due to its mysterious title. The other has seldom been seen. I take no responsibility for them, and have every intention of deleting them from my files after this.
Elizabeth slumped on the bathroom rug, gazing at the red half-moon marks that her fingernails had dug into her arm. She was rapidly feeling better. Silk had wandered in to say 'prrt?' and give her an expression which she could only read as concern, and her dehydration was fading as she sipped water from the glass that she had left on the sink earlier. Soon Peter would be home. She would admit that she had been crying and apologize for it, and he would kiss her and tell her, fiercely, that she never had to apologize for that.
I was driving down 95 when I first spotted it. The plate said 492-SBS, but the bumper sticker was what interested me—so small, yet so bold. “VOTE SHERMAN!” it said. Something stirred deep within me. Previously, Sherman had always been just the name of a presidential candidate. But now I knew! This was a man that I could vote for! Right then, my decision was made, and I humbly admit that it brought tears to my eyes. So wherever you are, 492-SBS, I want to thank you. You changed my life. Maybe, in time, you’ll change this country too.