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Recent Drabbles

The Assignation

See, I don’t know quite ’ow to explain what ’appened, officer. We’d done the shoppin’. Then Glenda says, “Go an’ order the coffee.” So I did. Same as normal.

She’s off to the ladies. I saw Maurice, our neighbour, I gives ’im a wave. Went to get the drinks.

Well, I waited and waited an’ did she come back? Did she buggery, ’scuse my French. So, in the end I ’ad a woman go look. She weren’t there.

I dunno. I thought Maurice might a seen ’er. I’ll ask ’im, when he gets back. Seems ’e’s gone away on ’oliday.

The Fight

The door slammed shut and he frowned. “What’s your problem?”

Her voice dripped venom. “Like you care.”

He threw the car into first. “You’re never happy.”

“What do you expect!”

He tried again, in a pleading tone. “Can we just forget it?”

She considered his request. “Can you start helping more?”

With a sigh, he nodded. “I can try.”

“Then I guess I can too.”

A relieved smile crossed his features. “So where do I start?”

Her returning smile was devoid of emotion. “Find somewhere to buy the shovels while I try to figure out where to bury the body.”

The Machine Men

What has happened to the world?

Why didn't anyone stand up to them?

We are on the margins now, those of us who threw away the 'smart' technology that worked to dumb down the masses.

The machines that mankind themselves created are now in charge. They've evolved, developed a language of their own and set about facilitating the ultimate of good vs evil.

Those of us humans left alive are barely surviving, our lives mere existence. But we can remember before, the beauty of the planet, and are willing to fight. They can take our bodies but not our spirit.

The End

It was the birds we noticed first. We knew it would happen but when the great flights of geese didn’t return that first spring, it was chilling.

The crops failed that summer. Then we had to use the stockpiles. They lasted a long time, more than ten years. Now they’ve gone. The earth is dead, it can’t support the trees and so now even the ancient ones are fading.

We can never say that we didn’t have warning but it was all talk, not much action, and so here we are. Our kind is doomed. The birds never came back.

Runaway Vehicle

A call arrived for the reporter: there is a runaway vehicle on the A23, if you are interested in the story? The reporter jumped into her car and headed off to get the scoop.

She overtook the runaway vehicle, not believing what she was watching. The police had turned up just before her and were bringing the vehicle to a halt.

The reporter laughed. The runaway vehicle was a mobility scooter doing three miles per hour, and the poor owner had been hobbling along on his walking sticks trying to catch it up. When he did, the police breathalysed him!

Kev Neylon Merits

6 most prolific2 most esteemed13 top drabblist

My Past Life

Where am I?

I feel trapped. I can't move.

I stop trying to struggle and listen instead. There are voices but I can't make out the words. The sounds get louder as I feel a pressure behind me, like hands pushing me. Then, I'm attacked from the front. Something cold and metallic tries to grip me, pinches my head and pulls at me.

There's nothing I can do. I'm helpless, unable to ask for help.

Suddenly, bright light and loud shouts of joy equal awareness. I've been given the chance to make amends for the errors in my past life.


The witch cackled gleefully. "I have you now! You will regret crossing my path!"

I cowered, expecting to get zapped. Nothing happened.

"Get on with it," I said. "I'm in a hurry."

She cackled again. "You can't pass until you have promised me your firstborn child!"

"Fair enough. You'll have to wait until I have one, though."

"I can wait forever!"

The witch cast the spell that would snatch my future child from me. Her wand flashed and she disappeared.

I laughed to myself as I continued on my way.

"That silly twit never heard of the menopause, did she!"

Time Machine

They’d finished work on the time machine. Thousands of hours working out permutations for mass, volume, acceleration and time. They’d mapped coordinates for the trial journey: they were going to send a team member forward a day into an empty room next to their laboratory.

Hank, lead mathematician on the project, had volunteered. He entered the chamber, watching the team program the details. In a few seconds he would be next door, tomorrow.

The chamber blinked out of view and he found himself in the vacuum of space.

They had forgotten about the movement of the Earth around the Sun.

Kev Neylon Merits

6 most prolific2 most esteemed13 top drabblist

All Gone Wrong

He’d had the worst day in his working life. His project for the last two years had gone live, only for the new system to fall over in the first hour. He’d spent the day stuck between crisis calls with the implementation partners, and calls from senior managers berating him for ruining their business.

They’d got it up and running again in the afternoon, but now he had a meeting with management the next morning.

He was driving home when the phone rang. His wife shouted, “There’s an idiot driving the wrong way on the M23!”

“Yes dear, it’s me.”

Kev Neylon Merits

6 most prolific2 most esteemed13 top drabblist

The Way To A Man's Heart

When the fuss was all over and everyone had gone – the doctor, the undertaker – Elizabeth sat beside the fire on her own. It was the first time she had been completely alone for more than fifty years.

She glanced at the sideboard. Ted’s old fishing trophy was still there. She had always hated it, the silver fish hanging on the end of a line, gasping for air.

She picked it up, dropped it into the pedal bin. She’d throw it out tomorrow. Along with the remains of that stew, the one with all those mushrooms in. Ted had loved mushrooms.

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