This website uses cookies to monitor traffic and check for abuse. Learn more | Close
Get Daily Bargains in Your Inbox

Ways to Follow

Get daily bargain list

Twitter icon
Facebook icon
RSS icon

Search Site


Book or Name

Search Features

Recent Newsletters



Hall of Fame

Best Drabble (Most Liked) - Page 2


Not Taking the Fifth

“D’you know why I stopped you, sir?'

“Nope,' I said. “Wasn't really concentrating.'

“Not concentrating?'

“Too busy texting.'

“Texting, were we?'

“Yep, about the weed.'

“Cannabis user?'

“Nope,' I said, “grower and seller. I used to just grow but my partner died so now I sell too.'

“Mmmm,' said the cop, “I stopped you for doing thirty-eight in a thirty zone.'

“Not the murder?'

“You really shouldn't take the piss, but my shift’s about over and who needs the paperwork? On your way and drive carefully.'

“Thanks,' I said as I wondered where to bury the body in the boot.

Ken Magee Merits

9 most prolific5 most esteemed5 top drabble

Murphy's Law

Paddy Murphy was making some toast for his breakfast when he dropped it. It landed butter side up. He got the local priest in to confirm it was a miracle as toast always lands butter side down. The priest felt quite unequal to the job of deciding, so he called for the bishop. The bishop questioned Murphy to ensure he hadn't flipped the toast over. Impressed, the bishop sent for an expert from Rome. A member of the curial office came to examine the case in detail. Eventually he made his decision. Paddy Murphy must have buttered the wrong side.

Kath Middleton Merits

1 most prolific2 most esteemed7 top drabble

No More Drabbles

A year ago, I didn’t know what a drabble was. Then I wrote one, then another, and so on as I challenged myself to write one drabble a day for a year.

Some were personal, some were trivial and some were observations on the idiosyncrasies of my life. Quite a few were submitted for the daily drabble. A number were published, some got rejected, some were well-received and others weren’t.

The year is now up, and this is drabble number three hundred and sixty-six. My last one ever.

It’s time for me to concentrate on finishing writing my books.

Kev Neylon Merits

6 most prolific1 most esteemed13 top drabble2 top drabblist


The newspaper headline proclaimed, in big bold capitals, ‘Punch in head turns man into maths genius’. The article told how a college dropout who’d suffered a brain injury in a mugging had emerged from a coma to find himself transformed into an academic egghead.

Debates raged.

Cynics pooh-poohed the report. Theologians discussed miracles. Neurologists explored theories about brain re-wiring. Prison reformers considered the possibilities of the baton as a method of rehabilitation. Lexicographers devised another three letter acronym… ASS - acquired savant syndrome.

Thugs, on the other hand, invented a new threat. ‘Hey pal, do you want to be Einstein?’

Ken Magee Merits

9 most prolific5 most esteemed5 top drabble

The Book Signing

“Who to?' he asked, before each left holding a signed copy of his latest thriller.

It was late and he was tiring when a young man presented himself at the signing table.

“Who to?'

“Your killer.'

Thoughts raced through his mind as he sat there paralysed. Who knew he was having an affair with his publisher? Who could possibly know that the masterpiece he’d just published was the idea of another? Had someone finally discovered he’d literally murdered his way onto the bestseller list?

Eventually, the young man showed his travel pass to aid the author.

York Hiller, it read.

Jonathan Hill Merits

4 most prolific3 most esteemed1 top drabble

Over The Top

We wait, trembling with anticipation, as shortly we will launch a surprise attack.

We are as strong as they are weak, and thus we plunder, to prove that we are the masters.

A ripple, a surge, and we move out en-masse.

Silence reigns supreme as rank after rank of our army moves closer.

We reach our goal!

They counter attack!

Fight or die!

I fight!

The living and dying scream aloud, as the hellish battle unfolds.

A snap, a crunch and the claw of the termite embraces me.

I shall not return to the ant hill.

Rick Haynes Merits

20 most prolific18 most esteemed16 top drabble

Hair Care

‘Ladies!!! Gentlemen!!! Sick of paying £££ for products to give your hair volume? We have the answer. Did you know that some birds can raise their crest feathers at will? Imagine big hair, or an obedient quiff, at your command! One almost painless injection of our EFF (Extract of Feather Follicles) is your lifetime solution.’

The owners of the small clinic grew rich overnight as the beautiful people flocked to have the treatment. Celebrity endorsements flooded in and the sales increased exponentially.

One day, the clinic closed. The owner flew abroad leaving no contact details.

Then the moulting season began.

Kath Middleton Merits

1 most prolific2 most esteemed7 top drabble


Colour is everything. A dash here or a splash there. Too much and it was pretty much ruined, too little and – well, you might as well not have bothered.

But then you have to try to replicate that perfection. Sometimes you can and sometimes it’s pretty much impossible. Do you add to it or just leave it alone? Sometimes it’s a spontaneous decision and sometimes you have to think long and hard. And then it’s done. And a little while later, you just want to start all over again. Then again. And again.

Ahh! Yes! Your perfect cup of tea.

Anne Deborah Taylor Merits

13 most prolific6 most esteemed18 top drabble14 top drabblist


They’d selected one of the walks from the guide book, and were heading off into the countryside from the car park. As they did, they saw a big sign for Harry’s Farm covering a long length of fence to their left.

They got to a stile, clambering over it, only to find the footpath end at a barbed wire fence. So they had to turn around and climb back over the stile.

A man stood on the original path, laughing.

“So you’ve used one of Harry’s stiles, then. As you can see, they’re only any use going in one direction.'

Kev Neylon Merits

6 most prolific1 most esteemed13 top drabble2 top drabblist


When I found her, her spine was cracked. All but broken, she was a real mess; dirty and dishevelled. Wet from the rain, I dried her carefully, patting her down and laying her near the fire but not so close as to burn her. I wondered what she could tell me. I wondered what her story was, but I didn’t pry until she was ready.

It took a good few days before she was fit enough; but I enjoyed Rebecca’s company immensely, before placing her on the shelf next to my Dickens compendium, whose appendix had been so inexpertly removed.

G J Reilly Merits

12 most prolific8 most esteemed20 top drabble

< Previous      Next >