Drabble Contest,  Uncategorized

Can You Write A 100-Word Story Using These Three Cards?

This is the place for a weekly flash fiction contest!

Can you write a story in 100 words?

The Apples To Apples Drabble! 

The Rules: 

  1. Write a drabble. A drabble is a 100-word story, with beginning, middle and end. A drabble can be any genre. Make it exactly 100 words. You can do it. That’s what adjectives and adverbs are for.
  2. Include each of the three Apples To Apples cards in the photo. All three. Not two. Not four. ALL THREE. New cards are chosen every week. And you can ignore the small words that explain it clearer. We just want the big three.
  3. Paste your drabble into the comments below. Then share this with your friends. The more comments you get on your entry, the more likely you are to win!
  4. Absolutely no links, screen shots or salesy type of behavior in the content entry. 
  5. Winners are chosen by the amount of positive response they get. Comments like, “This is great!” or “How funny!” or “Good job!” are the kinds of things that will be counted. Negative comments like, “this contest sucks” or “the rest of the entries are losers” or “WTF?” will be unapproved. The author of this blog reserves the right to ignore or block any content that is suspected of originating from trolls. In the event of a tie, winners will be chosen by this method. 
  6. Limit 3 entries per person. If you’re having fun, come back next Friday.
  7. This contest is open from 5:00 AM EST every Friday and closes down the following Sunday night at midnight. Comments are welcome throughout the week, but no more entries are allowed. 
  8. All entries must contain no profanity, no graphic violence or erotica, and no hate speech. Entries that do not abide by this rule will not be approved. Consistent abuse of this rule will warrant a blocked user.
  9. Winning entries will be announced on the 10 Minute Novelists Facebook group page the following Friday. The entry will also be published in the monthly digital newsletter, 10 Minute Novelists Insider. You can sign up for this here! 
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This week’s cards!


Katharine Grubb is an author, poet, homeschooling mother, camping enthusiast, bread-baker, and believer in working in small increments of time. She leads 10 Minute Novelists, an international Facebook group of time-crunched writers. She lives with her family in Massachusetts.


  • Lauren

    I hung the pinata quickly, taking just a moment to admire the purple unicorn. My family would start arriving any minute now. Stepping off the chair, I surveyed my handiwork. Colorful balloons, candy, and small toys decorated every table. A beautiful cake piped with delicate flowers sat enthroned on the dessert table. All my preparations were finished.

    With a crash, the door burst open and my little nieces flooded in. Behind them, galloping madly, was- crap, they brought their dog?? Laughing hysterically, May tossed a frisbee and-

    Well, this was a girl’s day out none of us would soon forget.

  • Joanna Barker

    The corpse swung from its fraying rope, twisting in the breeze like a grotesque piñata. I eyed it, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, and edged around it. Cobwebs covered every surface, their delicate strands glistening in the dim light. Something moved just ahead, and I froze.

    My family’s teasing words echoed in my mind. “Chicken,” “wimp,” and my personal favorite, “crybaby scaredy-cat,” courtesy of my six-year-old niece. I gulped and forced my feet forward.

    “Boo!” A dark figure leaped out at me, and I shrieked, stumbling backwards before turning to sprint out of the haunted house.

  • Clari Gosling

    We meet up with my extended family every year: the children run round while the adults chat. Though my sister can be delicate and won’t join in. It’s too muddy. She might ruin her pretty dress. Or her hair. And she just watches us. And is soon forgotten.
    Yesterday’s event started just as every other year. But when they heard the screams everyone came running. I turned the corner to see my dad holding one of our cousins by his ankles, walloping him like a piñata. And my sister was watching smiling, with mud and tears smeared over her face.

  • Lauren

    My family would never, ever believe this. “But, Calvin,” I said, sprinting to the back yard, “why?! Why would you transmogrify your little brother, into a PINATA of all things, at a PARTY?”

    The child following in my wake looked at me innocently. “I dunno.” He shrugged elaborately. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. But then Spiff got ahold of the transmogrifier, and… oof!” He sprawled on the grass, having tripped on the delicate white flowers bordering the patio.

    I didn’t pause. As I watched, a small girl drew back on the bat and began to swing.

    • Elizabeth

      This is awesome! It makes me wonder what would happen next. Probably something wild, especially if there’s transmogrification.

  • Lauren Doolin

    “Stop! What are you doing?” she cried, shrilly, bony hand grasping a delicate wrist. My sister-in-law, Marianne, glared at me and drew her stepdaughter closer. “You know Lyssa can’t handle physical exertion!”

    I rolled my eyes. “I seriously doubt swinging a stick at a pinata is going to have long-term consequences for her health.”

    Lyssa turned her pink face toward her stepmother. “Mari, I want to hit it! I wanna get some candy!”

    Marianne gave me a sharp look, eyes glittering. “See what you’ve done?” She turned and stalked off, sullen.

    Why did my family have to be so dramatic?

  • Kathy Shaull

    My family always goes overboard with birthdays. For my kid sister Beth this year, Dad bought a piñata that looked like a sick frog. Something about frogs and princess kisses. I don’t know. I just wanted the party to be over so I could go to the mall with my friends. But Dad wanted to give Bethie plenty of time to break open the stupid frog. She’s such a delicate little thing. She hit it five or six times. Nothing.
    Then Dad told her he had filled it with ring pops. Her favorite.
    One more hit. Frog pieces flew everywhere!

  • Kris Baker Dersch

    Some families put their drama on hold until they get home. Not my family. It’s a delicate balance. We all love each other, but one little incident and everything bursts out like a busted pinata. It’s the Ws that get us: wakes and wills.

    Aunt Sue is not speaking with cousin Clara. Wish that Bernice wasn’t speaking to Eleanor’s husband. The three cousins are fighting behind the church. A W got us again.

    I can hear the march being played in the sanctuary. I hope they’ve managed to keep this from Dora. She only gets to be a bride once.

  • Janet Chapman

    Relationships in our family are delicate. Don’t mention weight in front of Aunt Flo, smoking in front of Uncle Al, politics in front of grandpa, or cancer in front of cousin Jane. If you should forget one of these cardinal rules, be prepared to have tears, insults, looks that could kill, and a cold shoulder reign down on you like candy from a split piñata. 65 I only did it once, and I was damn-near excommunicated from the family. But they’re my family, and I love ’em anyway. Even if I did murder them all.

  • Debbie Teague

    Miss Penny stepped gingerly but with determination onto the forest path – her tiny feet were so delicate she didn’t make a sound as she moved. Miss Penny was on a mission to find or do something new.

    Just then her mouth gaped open. She stared dumbfounded at the group she saw around the bend. “My family!” They had been asleep when Miss Penny left the house. Her family hugged her and led her to her favorite tree. There on the lowest branch was a Piñata – which contained her favorite food – pudding cups.

    What a wonderful start to her great day.

  • Shan

    My family didn’t have piñatas at birthday parties until the Rodriguezes moved in next door. Their twins, Nicole and Antoinette, turned six only a week after the moving van left. The whole neighborhood went to the party – bounce house, mariachis, and mounds of delicious food. Even grandma went, for once not complaining about her delicate constitution. Mrs. Rodriguez invited grandma to take the first swing at the piñata. Well, the piñata must have been delicate, too, because it burst. And the old penny that dropped in grandma’s lap turned out to be worth $500. We’ve had piñatas ever since.