Tag Archive for: drabble

Revising Evil

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by Helen French

The coalition of evil editors meets once a month in a grotty East London pub.

Today, Chairman Farqhart adjusts his monocle and says, “First on the agenda: tormenting writers. Our usual cruelty is losing its edge. They shrug off insults, and blunt rejections no longer crush their spirits. Suggestions?”

“What about…” a new voice ventures.

“Go on. This is an evil space, but it’s a safe one.”

“What about acceptance letters?”

The crowd gasps.

“Explain,” Farqhart instructs.

“Not ordinary ones. We’ll ask for extensive revisions, and offer cryptic, contradictory feedback.”

Farqhart grins. “That’ll break them, all right.”

And everyone cheers.

Helen French

Helen French grew up in Merseyside near the coast and now lives in Hertfordshire, UK with her family. Her short stories have appeared in venues such as Factor Four, Stupefying Stories, and Flash Fiction Online, and she is currently buried in novel writing. You can find her online at helenfrench.net. 

Do Not Query

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by James Patrick Riser

No simultaneous submissions. Do not query. It was the last publication that still required paper submissions. A drop of your blood must be included on the very last page. No need to put your information in the header; Rich assumed they would know who he was.

He watched the white envelope slide down the throat of the mailbox. It landed with a hollow thump. The mailbox’s door slammed closed with a metallic scream. There. Done.

Three weeks later, during dinner, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. A dark hand squeezed his heart to a stop: the rejection notice.

James Patrick Riser

James Patrick Riser lives in California with his wife and daughter. 

Chief Editor, Dark Romance Press

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by Bruce Markuson

Stacy Wilkins

Author of Two-Timing Bitch

January 1, 2025

Dear Ms Wilkins,

I must apologise for sending this letter by post instead of by e-mail.

Congratulations! Your book Two-Timing Bitch has been accepted for publication. Your story about your tawdry and sordid affair with your married two-timing bastard of a boyfriend, Steven Murkowski, is exactly what the readers want.

As an experienced editor, I know it will easily bring seven figures in sales.

Unfortunately, you will not receive a dime in sales considering that I have laced this page with cyanide.

Sincerely,

Mrs Jenny Murkowski

Chief Editor, Dark Romance Press

Bruce Markuson

Bruce Markuson lives with his wife and two children in Milwaukee WI. He has a novel and over a hundred short stories published. Bruce is also working on a number of series. He enjoys writing and often finds himself with writer’s obsession. He says the best way to write is to have an ending then write to that ending.

Bloody Vowels

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by Bernardo Villela

At the murder scene a phrase was scrawled upon the wall: “The ardoUr he’d felt for his former paramour had been extinguished. He knew rumoUrs would start, but he would not let it coloUr his world.”

The words were written in permanent marker, save for the capitalised U’s which were written in blood.

There was a gibbering man in the corner. Papers with red pencil marks all over them were strewn about leading to a corpse.

The police approached him tentatively.

“Sir?” one of the officers ventured.

“I snapped. I couldn’t stand it!”

“What?”

“He refused to spell words properly!”

Bernardo Villela

Bernardo Villela has short fiction included in periodicals such as LatineLit and in anthologies such as There’s More of Us Than You Know. He’s had original poetry published by Exist Otherwise among others and translations published by AzonaL and Red Fern Review. You can find some of his other works here:  https://linktr.ee/bernardovillela.

Delete

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by Katie Dee

I hover over the Delete button.

Jerry insists my novel needs cuts. “Too many characters. Remove Charlie completely.”

I hate yielding to the conniving prat, but Jerry’s held me hostage in my contract for years. He forces me to write what he wants to see, else he promises I’ll never land an agent again.

“Don’t delete me,” Charlie whispers. “Jerry’s the one who should disappear.”

Usually I fight back when one of my characters tries to take over. This time, I don’t.

I give Charlie full control. He grabs my keys and a butcher’s knife, and drives to Jerry’s house.

Katie Dee

Katie Dee is a Civil Engineer turned microfiction writer from Nashville, Tennessee. Her work has been featured on Curated Microfiction, Sci-Fi Shorts, and Vocal Media. If she’s not writing, she’s scrolling on Instagram: @KatieDeeWrites. 

Not a Reflection on the Quality of the Work

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by Arvee Fantilagan

“Rubbish,” she brutalised one submitter. “Worthless,” another.

Her own cruelty made her wince.

“Tenth straight rejection. I suggest a career change.”

Yet people kept submitting! And who could blame them? “Eternal Damnation Magazine” would sound badass on any bio.

DID YOU ACCEPT ANYONE?

She flinched, flames scorching her face.

“There wasn’t anyone good enough…”

LIAR!!

She screamed as her skin melted into syrup. It would regrow soon enough—though she knew a chunk of her dignity would not.

TEN NEW SOULS, OR ELSE.

Grimacing and on fire, she began messaging the next submitter:

“Congratulations! We really enjoyed your piece—”

Arvee Fantilagan

Arvee Fantilagan grew up in the Philippines, lives in Japan, and has more of his works at sites.google.com/view/arveef. He hopes to write a better bio someday.

Bleed Red

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by Don Money

“As I mentioned when you signed the contract for editorial services, my expertise comes with a price,” Vachele Quinn said to the younger man.

The imposing view of the city from the ninety-seventh floor splayed out behind the man at the desk furthered the trepidation felt by Cameron Yates. “I thought you were kidding. You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am quite serious,” Vachele replied. The editor slid the empty ink well and syringe across to Cameron. “I find writers make fewer mistakes when they have to give a little of themselves to help me mark the corrections I find.”

Don Money

Don Money writes stories across a variety of genres. He is a middle school literacy teacher. His stories have appeared in a variety of anthologies and magazines.

Cutting Words

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by S.F.J. Painter

“You’re awake. Good. Wondering why you’re here? Stop whimpering. Well, dear boy, you’ve been my editor for many years. Sorry – was that too many words for you? Curious why you’re naked, tied to a chair, your skin a patchwork of ink and blood? You didn’t know I was in earshot. I heard everything: ‘Another bloated horror novel from the king of verbosity, every other word needs cutting’ Well, there they are—all 227,000 of my blood-sweated beauties etched into your flesh.”

The author leans in, scalpel glinting in the candlelight. “Let’s begin by cutting out some adjectives, shall we?”

S.F.J. Painter

Simon Painter lives in the UK with his lovely wife, cat and chickens. He’s a former actor, puppeteer and theatre director and has written or adapted over 20 professionally produced plays. Simon’s has been a mental health therapist for far too many years and is currently recovering from prostate cancer.

Woeful Distortion

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by Evan Baughfman

In the funhouse mirror, Paul looked ridiculously out of proportion—legs stubby, torso stretched out like taffy. His arms were disjointed giraffe limbs, impossibly long and spindly.

“Disgusting,” Paul spat.

He modelled for local shops. Usually, mirrors were his friends.

His distorted reflection grinned huge teeth, even as Paul grimaced.

He lifted a middle finger. Realised it had actually become a horribly elongated digit.

His hands! They resembled pale, upturned spider crabs!

Paul stumbled away from the mirror on abridged femurs, tiny feet. His cavernous mouth sobbed atop a now-wobbly upper body.

Outside, Paul was recruited for the carnival’s sideshow.

Evan Baughfman

Evan Baughfman is a middle school teacher and author. Much of his writing success has been as a playwright. A number of his scripts can be found at online resources, Drama Notebook and New Play Exchange. Evan also writes horror fiction and screenplays.

The Mirror Doesn’t Lie

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by Susan Monroe McGrath

“Hold still.”

Before I can protest, my sister yanks a hair from my scalp.

“Got it!” She holds the gleaming grey strand like a trophy. “Once you find the first grey hair, it’s all downhill.”

I retreat to the bathroom and stare into the mirror. Another grey hair. Sigh.

I mimic my sister, reaching up to pull the offending hair. It feels like it’s attached to my brain.

A drop of blood runs from my hairline, but I can’t stop. I pull harder.

My skin rips before the hair releases, opening my scalp like a zipper.

My sister was right.

Susan Monroe McGrath

Susan Monroe McGrath is a theatre graduate from a school of the arts who still can’t decide what she wants to be when she grows up. By night, she writes novels and short stories in a variety of genres. By day, she teaches science to high school students.

Website: susanmonroemcgrath.home.blog