Creativity,  Drabble Contest,  Writing Prompt

The Weekly Apple to Apples Drabble! Submit Your Entry Below!

This is the place for a weekly flash fiction contest!

The Apples To Apples Drabble! 

Apples to Apple Drabble Flash Fiction Contest by 10 Minute Novelists

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.
  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 unapprove 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. Contest is open from 5:00 AM EST every Friday and closes down the following Sunday night at midnight.
  8. Winning entries will be announced on the 10 Minute Novelists Facebook group page the following Monday. The entry will also be published in the monthly digital newsletter, 10 Minute Novelists Insider. 
  9. 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.

This week’s cards!

The Apples To Apples Drabble! A Flash Fiction Contest!

Good luck!


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.


  • Michel Daw

    “But why, Amma? Why do they bite me? Are they angry?” his little voice cracked, confused and betrayed by these Canadian summers. I pulled a bag of frozen peas out and placed it over his mosquito bites. Summer was his favourite time, but it was temporarily spoiled by this unwarranted attack.

    “No, Ito, they are hungry. In this place, they bite a little.” I tried not to show alarm at the swelling, hoping it was merely a reaction of his body to their foreign venom.

    “In winter, they will be gone.”

    How was I going to explain snow to him?

  • Michel Daw

    I tried not to breathe too loudly and crouched lower behind a large plastic sign that read ‘Frozen Peas, 99¢.’ I heard him shuffling by me, his feet dragging. I glimpsed his face for a second through a crack, covered in the tell-tale rash of the Stricken, like a thousand mosquito bites blanketing his skin. My god, I thought. He’s only a child. He held an old stuffed rabbit by the ear, probably an old favorite toy from when he still had a mind. I stifled a sob. He stopped, turned towards me, raised his hand to point and screamed.

  • Michel Daw

    “There’s no point. It’s just not working,” she said as she poured frozen peas in to the microwavable pot. It was her favorite appliance, that microwave. Simple, fast, and predictable. He looked down at his microwaved steak, the small cooked bubbles covering its surface like so many mosquito bites.

    He realized with a shock that he understood. It was complex. It took too long. And worst of all, she had no control over it. Their relationship was over, if it had ever started. She didn’t know how to fall in love.

    He rose. “Let me cook you dinner,” he said.

  • Carolyn Astfalk

    I scratched the mosquito bites marking my calves like some kind of connect-the-dot. The relentless itch woke me, and I couldn’t fall back asleep no matter how I slapped, scraped, or ignored it. Giving up my futile effort, I slipped out of bed and pulled on my favorite terrycloth robe.

    In the darkness, I bumbled into the kitchen, groping for the freezer door. Something in there had to offer a reprieve from the confounding itch. I searched, shoving aside a quart of onion soup, pierogies, and chicken thighs. Frozen peas! I slapped a bag against my itching leg. Sweet relief!

  • Lynne

    Dr Jones had never been my favourite person. Especially when I returned from an exotic, Egyptian holiday covered in mosquito bites. His remedy was to place a scalding hot teaspoon over the raised bump, the intention being to cauterize the area and remove the intense itch.
    Needless to say, it didn’t work.
    But he redeemed himself when our baby threatened to be born breech. ‘Frozen peas’ll do the trick’ he said, without even examining her.
    We googled it, and you what? It worked.
    We’re naming the baby after him, so my wife tells me.
    Barnabus Rubble? Over my dead body!

  • Laura

    I glanced over at the bucket of water. It had sat in my cell for days. They said it was to wash with, but I had no soap or cloth so I had just ignored it. Now it crawled with larvae. I scratched the mosquito bites on my limbs. Maybe I could dump it out the high, barred window. I stood and started to try, but the stupid guard noticed me.

    “Put that down!” he yelled, and threw a bag of something (frozen peas? why did he even have that?) at the door.

    Yeah, my favorite person in the world.

  • Lolo

    “Are you ready commander Birdseye?”
    “Yes! Carrots at the ready!”
    “Are you ready, commander Green Giant?”
    “Yes! Frozen peas at the ready!”
    “Remember, there is no mixing! Only one can be the favorite! Losers will become frozen packs for mosquito bites.”

    First to roll were the frozen peas, quickly sliding across the slick granite counter. Peas were fast and bold but carrots, while slower, were square, smart and strong! Carrots used audacious strategy to quickly outflank the frozen peas!
    The peas rolled together to gather momentum and gave one final rally. The carrots were too solid, Carrots win the battle!

  • Meka James

    Mike sat holding a bag of frozen peas against his eye. He looked over at Doug whose legs were nearly pink, covered in calamine lotion because of all the mosquito bites. Chris limped over to the fridge, pulling out the six pack of beer. All three men looked towards the door when Chris’ wife walked in. She stopped, taking in the sight before her.

    “Um, did you guys have a good time?”

    All three men shared a look before bursting out with laughter.

    Chris limped over to his wife, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Our favorite trip yet.”

  • Molly neely

    I stopped drinking blood last summer. It began feeling barbaric and cruel. Taking the life fluid of humans had (for lack of a better phrase) lost its flavor.
    The rest of my kind think I’ve lost my marbles. And who can blame them, after all whoever heard of a vegan mosquito? They think I should be out there, leaving welts on 3rd graders, spreading malaria, laying eggs in old kiddie pools… naw .
    I’ve discovered something better. Frozen peas. I know what you’re thinking. But they’re delicious and there’s no guilt. I’ve tried other veggies, but the peas are my favorite.

  • Dougllas Dishroon

    Maybe twenty yards to the back of my truck. Roughly ten seconds there. A quick search through my favorite cooler for a bag of M&M’s, and a quick run back to my tent. Should be no problem. Off I run. Well, I had a good start. Dang root jumped up and tripped me. Down I went, flashlight flew into the brush. No time-I must move. Bam, bam, I’m hit. Hand beneath ice, bag of M&M’s in hand and I am off and running. Cost me 15 Mosquito bites-but man oh man these frozen peas taste good. Frozen peas? Dang it!

  • Carol

    “The heat is awful. The humidity is awful.” Anne shifted the bag of frozen peas to more completely cover the growing bump on her head. “And mosquitos are the scourge of summer.”

    “Whoa. Scourge, even.” Marie kicked at her sister’s lounge chair. “Stop griping. Next week we’ll be at the beach. No skeeters to distract you from low-hanging branches. Heat and humidity swallowed by salty air and water. What complaints then?”

    Anne flashed a grin. “No complaints–just a resolution to enjoy the company of my ‘most favorite’ sister.”

    “Yeah. Touching.” Marie sipped her tea. “Considering I’m your only sister.”

  • Christina Butrum

    The sting and the itch was slowly relieved by the coolness of frozen peas as I relaxed my arm against the package.

    Had I known my favorite place to write, a cozy, sheltered bench near the lake, would have been taken over by a flock of unforgiving blood-sucking pests, I would’ve gone somewhere else.

    Instead, I had allowed them to invade my space, swarm in, and take my blood in exchange for the nasty, weeping welts that now cover my arm in a ridiculous pattern.

    Summer used to be my favorite season, but now winter sounds a bit more promising.

  • Janice Daquila-Pardo

    Summers spent at our grandparents’ farm always included long hours in the sunny garden, mosquito bites, and migraines.

    Mom grew up with migraines, too, so Grams knew what to do. She filled the kitchen sink with hot water, then made me submerge my hands and feet while she held a bag of frozen peas to the base of my skull. To save me from death by boredom, she told me my favorite stories about her childhood.

    It worked every time.

    But it occurs to me now, too late to ask, why did a master gardener keep peas in the freezer?

  • Christine Hennebury

    Me and Sharon had always known Carla was Mom’s favourite, but that summer it became obvious. Carla spent her days lying under the netting on the front porch, eating popsicles and reading her Wonder Woman comics. We sat out back, comparing mosquito bites, and pretending that the frozen peas we ate by the handful were a treat instead of a desperate attempt to cool down.

    One Wednesday afternoon, Mom finally gave up, took Carla, and drove off.

    We didn’t cry. We just sat under the netting on the front porch and split the last popsicle while we waited for Dad.

  • Christine Hennebury

    I thought that frozen peas would make an excellent treatment for mosquito bites, but they were tricky. Sure, the cold was great and each pea was about the same size as a bite, but there was no way to keep them on there. They just kept rolling off.

    So, I’m sorry about the greens splotches on your favourite sheets but once I finally got the peas all placed in the right spots – that took a while, let me tell you – and lay down on them, I was too comfortable to move. When I woke up, all the peas were squished.

  • Christine Hennebury

    Ricky has done a lot of dumb things but my favourite story is the time he thought he got shot.

    I don’t know how he got that idea. There was no loud noise or terrible pain, he just touched his head, found blood, and jumped to conclusions.

    I knew better but I took him to the hospital just to shut him up.

    The nurses had a grand time with him, acting like his circle of mosquito bites was a wound. He didn’t figure out that they were making fun until they gave him his painkillers – a bag of frozen peas.

  • Mary

    The bubbling brook runs through a seven-foot gorge, wide enough for a person. I turn to leave, but not before glimpsing berries hanging down the steep sides of the gully. The sudden urge for my favorite pie brings me back.

    I remove socks and shoes and roll up my pants. Without a second thought, I plunge into the cold water. Fifteen minutes later, I had picked a cap full of blackberries. I hear the whine of a mosquito. Darn!

    With the pie baking, I put a bag of frozen peas over the itchy mosquito bites. It was so worth it.

  • Mary

    The bubbling brook runs through a seven-foot gorge, wide enough for a person. I turn to leave, but not before glimpsing berries hanging down the steep sides of the gully. The sudden urge for my favorite pie brings me back.

    I remove socks and shoes and roll up my pants. Without a second thought, I plunge into the cold water. Fifteen minutes later, I had picked a cap full of blackberries. I hear the whine of a mosquito. Darn!

    With the pie baking, I put a bag of frozen peas over the itchy mosquito bites. It was worth it.

    (Please use this one, the hyphenated word should count as two words.)