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

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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!

Apples to Apples Drabble Contest! 10 Minute Novelists

Good luck! 

13 thoughts on “The Weekly Apple to Apples Drabble! Submit Your Entry Below!

  1. The rubber soles of my shoes stuttered as they met pavement, but I plowed ahead, not turning back. Dozens of people, parents with children, teens, and old folks lined the river’s edge, all focused on the water and the enjoyable weather. I slipped between a short, stocky man and his straying toddler so that the crowd shielded me from view. Six canoes came into view, the paddlers working with the current. In mere seconds, I felt the crowd jostling. I swiveled around only to be struck in the face and the chest by dual streams spraying from water guns. Caught.

  2. Molly had selected the smallest of canoes, dragging hers down the steep incline until the tip of it kissed the tranquil river. This was it; it was now or never. After a deep breath, she hoisted herself carefully inside, her hands trembling as they gripped the smooth fiberglass edges. Then the waves rolled in. Her heart pounded in her chest, mimicking the rhythm of the tide as it smacked against her vessel. Enjoyable—that’s how her therapist had described this activity. But it was codswallop in her opinion. All of it. Why couldn’t they have started with water guns instead?

  3. This is for Ginny Mager

    Here it is. I counted and should be correct count.
    “Come on.” Marabelle begged hubby Bill.
    “An outing would be enjoyable-for both of us. I’ll get to see my nephew, Jason turn 10. No one will be asking me questions why I’ve skipped five family birthdays.’

    Bill looked skeptical. “I’ll wear sunglasses and a hat. Everyone will be focused on having fun. I need this-we need this.” Bill exhaled. “Alright. Just this once.” Marabelle smiled. At 4-Forks River Fun Waterpark, Marabelle waved at Jason, busy shooting cousins with a watergun on the canoe ride. Jason squirted Bill twice. Bill turned around. Marabelle was gone.

  4. When Marie and Anne noticed the sign for renting canoes, it had sounded like an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon.

    Now, standing knee deep in the water, Anne laughed loudly as they guided the canoe back to shore.

    “You look…you look…,” Anne gasped for air. “I haven’t seen you so wet since the summer Mom was demented enough to get The Monster one of those super soaker water guns.”

    Marie sighed as the water drip, drip, dripped from her body. “Your car repairs submarined the Florida trip, and now you…”

    Marie looked up, surprised. Anne had stopped laughing.

  5. Bobby carted the storage bin out by the garden hose and sighed.
    This would take a while.
    He started loading water guns, blasters, soakers, super soakers, water cannons, stream machines, squirt guns, water pistols, pump-action blasters, pressurized water guns, and dual water blasters. Then he filled water balloons. What good soldier would go into battle without grenades?
    He plugged every aperture, dumped his arsenal in the canoe. Bobby hopped in, ran his hand across a super soaker. He imagined the jetting stream–its range, accuracy. He envisioned drenched shirts and squealing.
    No one would find this enjoyable, he cackled, no one.

  6. Bobby carted the bin out by the hose and sighed.
    This would take a while.
    He started loading water guns, blasters, soakers, super soakers, water cannons, squirt guns, water pistols, pump-action blasters, pressurized water guns, and dual water blasters. Then he filled water balloons. What good soldier would go into battle without grenades?
    He plugged every aperture, dumped his arsenal in the boat, surveyed the other canoes. Bobby hopped in, skimmed his hand across a super soaker. He imagined the jetting stream–its range, accuracy. He envisioned drenched shirts and squealing.
    No one would find this enjoyable, he cackled, no one.

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