3 Drabbles
Title: Neopolitan Pocky
Rating: PG-13 (drug reference)
Flavors: Strawberry, Vanilla, Chocolate
Using runaway_tales lovely prompts, I present three drabbles based on my story "Trip."
Strawberry - Teacup
Tantos owned precisely one teacup. He never drank tea, seldom even drank coffee. He’d given up caffeine when he gave up cocaine. Quit one upper, you might as well quit them all. (Though he still had chocolate, when he could find some. No one should have to live without chocolate.)
The teacup was a horrendous little thing. Proper bone china, with a hand painted filigree ribbon twining around the handle. A little gift from Jim, painted in red and gold just for spite. Tantos kept it on his dresser, next to the stained glass bong he’d given Jim in return.
Vanilla - Mother used to say
Darius doesn’t really remember his mom. When he pictures ‘mom,’ he usually sees Ras wearing an apron and oven mitts, “Mom said to make dinner, brat,” or toothbrush dangling from his mouth, “Mom says it’s time to go to bed, idiot.”
The first time Tantos mentions his mom to Darius, it’s offhand, casual. He doesn’t mean to hurt him, Darius knows. The second time it’s calculated. Tantos is digging, looking for facts. The third time, he doesn’t bother trying to get anything out of Darius. The fourth time, Darius gives in.
“My mother used to say ‘let sleeping dogs lie.’”
Chocolate - Nostalgia
Tantos likes to sit very quietly in Mrs. Woo’s General Store and listen to the customers pawing through pre-war antiquities. Men caressing iPods, women crying over cellphones. Teens, thinking they’re full of wisdom, grieving the laptops they never had. Once, a grizzled man in a wrinkled suit held an expired tin of spam for twenty minutes, whispering about the smell of it frying, the taste of it on toast. Once a woman caught him reading an eight-year-old gossip magazine and asked him, eyes wistful, “How can you work surrounded by such memories?”
“I only feel nostalgia for yesterday,” he answered.
Rating: PG-13 (drug reference)
Flavors: Strawberry, Vanilla, Chocolate
Using runaway_tales lovely prompts, I present three drabbles based on my story "Trip."
Strawberry - Teacup
Tantos owned precisely one teacup. He never drank tea, seldom even drank coffee. He’d given up caffeine when he gave up cocaine. Quit one upper, you might as well quit them all. (Though he still had chocolate, when he could find some. No one should have to live without chocolate.)
The teacup was a horrendous little thing. Proper bone china, with a hand painted filigree ribbon twining around the handle. A little gift from Jim, painted in red and gold just for spite. Tantos kept it on his dresser, next to the stained glass bong he’d given Jim in return.
Vanilla - Mother used to say
Darius doesn’t really remember his mom. When he pictures ‘mom,’ he usually sees Ras wearing an apron and oven mitts, “Mom said to make dinner, brat,” or toothbrush dangling from his mouth, “Mom says it’s time to go to bed, idiot.”
The first time Tantos mentions his mom to Darius, it’s offhand, casual. He doesn’t mean to hurt him, Darius knows. The second time it’s calculated. Tantos is digging, looking for facts. The third time, he doesn’t bother trying to get anything out of Darius. The fourth time, Darius gives in.
“My mother used to say ‘let sleeping dogs lie.’”
Chocolate - Nostalgia
Tantos likes to sit very quietly in Mrs. Woo’s General Store and listen to the customers pawing through pre-war antiquities. Men caressing iPods, women crying over cellphones. Teens, thinking they’re full of wisdom, grieving the laptops they never had. Once, a grizzled man in a wrinkled suit held an expired tin of spam for twenty minutes, whispering about the smell of it frying, the taste of it on toast. Once a woman caught him reading an eight-year-old gossip magazine and asked him, eyes wistful, “How can you work surrounded by such memories?”
“I only feel nostalgia for yesterday,” he answered.