babelwright
@seventhshoelace.bsky.social
stories stories stories stories stories stories . stories
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(1-skeet story #0)
With these 1-skeet stories I aim to make 1) full "narratives" with character + need + choice + consequence (not jokes, poems, gotchas, “what ifs”): beginning, middle & end 2) practicing story in brevity 3) for the joy of myself and whoever likes #microfiction
With these 1-skeet stories I aim to make 1) full "narratives" with character + need + choice + consequence (not jokes, poems, gotchas, “what ifs”): beginning, middle & end 2) practicing story in brevity 3) for the joy of myself and whoever likes #microfiction
(1-skeet story #18)
The gods warred. My patron god was killed and I was left apostate. What good did my former devotion do me now? I sat in the desert, waiting for death. Death came - and said, make Me your god now. It’s Purpose that matters. So I started killing other gods.
The gods warred. My patron god was killed and I was left apostate. What good did my former devotion do me now? I sat in the desert, waiting for death. Death came - and said, make Me your god now. It’s Purpose that matters. So I started killing other gods.
September 3, 2025 at 1:55 AM
(1-skeet story #18)
The gods warred. My patron god was killed and I was left apostate. What good did my former devotion do me now? I sat in the desert, waiting for death. Death came - and said, make Me your god now. It’s Purpose that matters. So I started killing other gods.
The gods warred. My patron god was killed and I was left apostate. What good did my former devotion do me now? I sat in the desert, waiting for death. Death came - and said, make Me your god now. It’s Purpose that matters. So I started killing other gods.
(1-skeet story #17)
These aliens live on color. Show them orange, they love you, purple, they attack, gray, laugh. We almost feel guilty manipulating them so easy. They come to Earth, multiply. We have to outlaw purple. Then green, red, white… Easier to just put them in charge.
These aliens live on color. Show them orange, they love you, purple, they attack, gray, laugh. We almost feel guilty manipulating them so easy. They come to Earth, multiply. We have to outlaw purple. Then green, red, white… Easier to just put them in charge.
September 1, 2025 at 12:07 AM
(1-skeet story #17)
These aliens live on color. Show them orange, they love you, purple, they attack, gray, laugh. We almost feel guilty manipulating them so easy. They come to Earth, multiply. We have to outlaw purple. Then green, red, white… Easier to just put them in charge.
These aliens live on color. Show them orange, they love you, purple, they attack, gray, laugh. We almost feel guilty manipulating them so easy. They come to Earth, multiply. We have to outlaw purple. Then green, red, white… Easier to just put them in charge.
(1-skeet story #16)
The Evil One razed Bookish Ben’s village. He couldn’t fight. What revenge for Ben? Maybe he could be a hero’s mentor. He studied and aged. 50 years on, Strong Sam’s home was razed. Ben went to him- and purposely sent him into an ambush. He preferred the books.
The Evil One razed Bookish Ben’s village. He couldn’t fight. What revenge for Ben? Maybe he could be a hero’s mentor. He studied and aged. 50 years on, Strong Sam’s home was razed. Ben went to him- and purposely sent him into an ambush. He preferred the books.
July 22, 2025 at 5:02 AM
(1-skeet story #16)
The Evil One razed Bookish Ben’s village. He couldn’t fight. What revenge for Ben? Maybe he could be a hero’s mentor. He studied and aged. 50 years on, Strong Sam’s home was razed. Ben went to him- and purposely sent him into an ambush. He preferred the books.
The Evil One razed Bookish Ben’s village. He couldn’t fight. What revenge for Ben? Maybe he could be a hero’s mentor. He studied and aged. 50 years on, Strong Sam’s home was razed. Ben went to him- and purposely sent him into an ambush. He preferred the books.
(1-skeet story #15)
I could see his silhouette on the floor mattress juddering from his heartbeat. Mine was too. One of us had to cross that moonlit room. -the morning alarm rang. We made eggs. We blushed and we ate. We left. No worries. For sure there’d be another chance.
I could see his silhouette on the floor mattress juddering from his heartbeat. Mine was too. One of us had to cross that moonlit room. -the morning alarm rang. We made eggs. We blushed and we ate. We left. No worries. For sure there’d be another chance.
July 8, 2025 at 5:48 AM
(1-skeet story #15)
I could see his silhouette on the floor mattress juddering from his heartbeat. Mine was too. One of us had to cross that moonlit room. -the morning alarm rang. We made eggs. We blushed and we ate. We left. No worries. For sure there’d be another chance.
I could see his silhouette on the floor mattress juddering from his heartbeat. Mine was too. One of us had to cross that moonlit room. -the morning alarm rang. We made eggs. We blushed and we ate. We left. No worries. For sure there’d be another chance.
(1-skeet story #14)
The dictator saw the end was near. Oil drying up. The internationals vulturing. Might as well secure a legacy. So he threw festivals, distributed resources. Then new shales were found. The iron fist seemed old hat. But maybe… he could pay to get invaded?
The dictator saw the end was near. Oil drying up. The internationals vulturing. Might as well secure a legacy. So he threw festivals, distributed resources. Then new shales were found. The iron fist seemed old hat. But maybe… he could pay to get invaded?
July 1, 2025 at 10:37 PM
(1-skeet story #14)
The dictator saw the end was near. Oil drying up. The internationals vulturing. Might as well secure a legacy. So he threw festivals, distributed resources. Then new shales were found. The iron fist seemed old hat. But maybe… he could pay to get invaded?
The dictator saw the end was near. Oil drying up. The internationals vulturing. Might as well secure a legacy. So he threw festivals, distributed resources. Then new shales were found. The iron fist seemed old hat. But maybe… he could pay to get invaded?
(1-skeet story #13)
Robo-Bob wanted an orange. Finally he was given one. He peeled it; his handlers watched him toss the fruit. Then he reassembled the peel - so spherically, so perfectly, you couldn’t tell it was empty. “If only,” he said, “my robo-hands were big as the world.”
Robo-Bob wanted an orange. Finally he was given one. He peeled it; his handlers watched him toss the fruit. Then he reassembled the peel - so spherically, so perfectly, you couldn’t tell it was empty. “If only,” he said, “my robo-hands were big as the world.”
June 29, 2025 at 8:33 PM
(1-skeet story #13)
Robo-Bob wanted an orange. Finally he was given one. He peeled it; his handlers watched him toss the fruit. Then he reassembled the peel - so spherically, so perfectly, you couldn’t tell it was empty. “If only,” he said, “my robo-hands were big as the world.”
Robo-Bob wanted an orange. Finally he was given one. He peeled it; his handlers watched him toss the fruit. Then he reassembled the peel - so spherically, so perfectly, you couldn’t tell it was empty. “If only,” he said, “my robo-hands were big as the world.”
(1-skeet story #12)
After the Bomb, I find a grocery store. May as well eat. After the quick joys are gone (candy, chips) I start concocting recipes to honor the dead. The more I mourn, the more delicious. I write them down. The future deserves to taste them. This is why I lived.
After the Bomb, I find a grocery store. May as well eat. After the quick joys are gone (candy, chips) I start concocting recipes to honor the dead. The more I mourn, the more delicious. I write them down. The future deserves to taste them. This is why I lived.
June 27, 2025 at 2:46 PM
(1-skeet story #12)
After the Bomb, I find a grocery store. May as well eat. After the quick joys are gone (candy, chips) I start concocting recipes to honor the dead. The more I mourn, the more delicious. I write them down. The future deserves to taste them. This is why I lived.
After the Bomb, I find a grocery store. May as well eat. After the quick joys are gone (candy, chips) I start concocting recipes to honor the dead. The more I mourn, the more delicious. I write them down. The future deserves to taste them. This is why I lived.
(1-skeet story #11)
I was cursed such that anyone who set eyes on me would fall in love with me. So I stayed away from society to protect the innocent. But I was so lonely. So, in a moment of weakness, I gave in, and looked at the mirror. Now, I go out everywhere.
I was cursed such that anyone who set eyes on me would fall in love with me. So I stayed away from society to protect the innocent. But I was so lonely. So, in a moment of weakness, I gave in, and looked at the mirror. Now, I go out everywhere.
June 25, 2025 at 4:15 PM
(1-skeet story #11)
I was cursed such that anyone who set eyes on me would fall in love with me. So I stayed away from society to protect the innocent. But I was so lonely. So, in a moment of weakness, I gave in, and looked at the mirror. Now, I go out everywhere.
I was cursed such that anyone who set eyes on me would fall in love with me. So I stayed away from society to protect the innocent. But I was so lonely. So, in a moment of weakness, I gave in, and looked at the mirror. Now, I go out everywhere.
(1-skeet story #10)
Emma just wanted to go to prom before the cancer, but she didn’t want a sympathy date. She had to shave her head, so she hid it with a punkish look. That drew in a few specific boys. Jacob was cutest. He asked. She heard herself say “no.” She missed her hair.
Emma just wanted to go to prom before the cancer, but she didn’t want a sympathy date. She had to shave her head, so she hid it with a punkish look. That drew in a few specific boys. Jacob was cutest. He asked. She heard herself say “no.” She missed her hair.
June 15, 2025 at 6:19 PM
(1-skeet story #10)
Emma just wanted to go to prom before the cancer, but she didn’t want a sympathy date. She had to shave her head, so she hid it with a punkish look. That drew in a few specific boys. Jacob was cutest. He asked. She heard herself say “no.” She missed her hair.
Emma just wanted to go to prom before the cancer, but she didn’t want a sympathy date. She had to shave her head, so she hid it with a punkish look. That drew in a few specific boys. Jacob was cutest. He asked. She heard herself say “no.” She missed her hair.
(1-skeet story #9)
A riverbank collapsed. Some water found itself isolated as a pond. “Peace at last,” it said. “No more striving for the sea.” Eons passed. Bears drank, humans played. Then one day the water broke through. “I flow again!” said the now-river. “Purpose at last.”
A riverbank collapsed. Some water found itself isolated as a pond. “Peace at last,” it said. “No more striving for the sea.” Eons passed. Bears drank, humans played. Then one day the water broke through. “I flow again!” said the now-river. “Purpose at last.”
June 13, 2025 at 10:24 PM
(1-skeet story #9)
A riverbank collapsed. Some water found itself isolated as a pond. “Peace at last,” it said. “No more striving for the sea.” Eons passed. Bears drank, humans played. Then one day the water broke through. “I flow again!” said the now-river. “Purpose at last.”
A riverbank collapsed. Some water found itself isolated as a pond. “Peace at last,” it said. “No more striving for the sea.” Eons passed. Bears drank, humans played. Then one day the water broke through. “I flow again!” said the now-river. “Purpose at last.”
(1-skeet story #8)
The sleeping bag heated up. Billy awoke. Smoke. Flame. The treehouse ablaze beneath him. “Mom will save me,” he said, and went back to sleep. The next morning, he woke up. The treehouse was burnt up; the empty tree cradled him. “I’ll never grow up,” he said.
The sleeping bag heated up. Billy awoke. Smoke. Flame. The treehouse ablaze beneath him. “Mom will save me,” he said, and went back to sleep. The next morning, he woke up. The treehouse was burnt up; the empty tree cradled him. “I’ll never grow up,” he said.
June 11, 2025 at 8:07 PM
(1-skeet story #8)
The sleeping bag heated up. Billy awoke. Smoke. Flame. The treehouse ablaze beneath him. “Mom will save me,” he said, and went back to sleep. The next morning, he woke up. The treehouse was burnt up; the empty tree cradled him. “I’ll never grow up,” he said.
The sleeping bag heated up. Billy awoke. Smoke. Flame. The treehouse ablaze beneath him. “Mom will save me,” he said, and went back to sleep. The next morning, he woke up. The treehouse was burnt up; the empty tree cradled him. “I’ll never grow up,” he said.
(1-skeet story #7)
My boss fired me to juice his margins, so I called my local witch. “We offer a variety of financial curses,” they said. But I didn’t want revenge. I wanted to protect the remaining workers. “A classic love spell for my boss,” I said. “Multi-way.” I felt proud.
My boss fired me to juice his margins, so I called my local witch. “We offer a variety of financial curses,” they said. But I didn’t want revenge. I wanted to protect the remaining workers. “A classic love spell for my boss,” I said. “Multi-way.” I felt proud.
June 10, 2025 at 5:45 PM
(1-skeet story #7)
My boss fired me to juice his margins, so I called my local witch. “We offer a variety of financial curses,” they said. But I didn’t want revenge. I wanted to protect the remaining workers. “A classic love spell for my boss,” I said. “Multi-way.” I felt proud.
My boss fired me to juice his margins, so I called my local witch. “We offer a variety of financial curses,” they said. But I didn’t want revenge. I wanted to protect the remaining workers. “A classic love spell for my boss,” I said. “Multi-way.” I felt proud.
(1-skeet story #6)
Skye the landscape painter fell into a vat and came out superpowered. Everyone said pick hero or villain. Skye tried saving an airplane, tried ransoming the mayor. Neither felt right. They had to find their own path. So they started rearranging mountains.
Skye the landscape painter fell into a vat and came out superpowered. Everyone said pick hero or villain. Skye tried saving an airplane, tried ransoming the mayor. Neither felt right. They had to find their own path. So they started rearranging mountains.
June 7, 2025 at 8:23 PM
(1-skeet story #6)
Skye the landscape painter fell into a vat and came out superpowered. Everyone said pick hero or villain. Skye tried saving an airplane, tried ransoming the mayor. Neither felt right. They had to find their own path. So they started rearranging mountains.
Skye the landscape painter fell into a vat and came out superpowered. Everyone said pick hero or villain. Skye tried saving an airplane, tried ransoming the mayor. Neither felt right. They had to find their own path. So they started rearranging mountains.
(1-skeet story #5)
Owen had a crush on his lawyer. Wrongful termination suit. Mr. Kim won the case for him, moved on. So Owen sought jobs with the wrongful kind of employers. “Just ask for a date,” his friends said. It wouldn’t be the same. Being defended was addicting.
Owen had a crush on his lawyer. Wrongful termination suit. Mr. Kim won the case for him, moved on. So Owen sought jobs with the wrongful kind of employers. “Just ask for a date,” his friends said. It wouldn’t be the same. Being defended was addicting.
June 5, 2025 at 6:33 PM
(1-skeet story #5)
Owen had a crush on his lawyer. Wrongful termination suit. Mr. Kim won the case for him, moved on. So Owen sought jobs with the wrongful kind of employers. “Just ask for a date,” his friends said. It wouldn’t be the same. Being defended was addicting.
Owen had a crush on his lawyer. Wrongful termination suit. Mr. Kim won the case for him, moved on. So Owen sought jobs with the wrongful kind of employers. “Just ask for a date,” his friends said. It wouldn’t be the same. Being defended was addicting.
(1-skeet story #4)
Paul had been at work when his wife’s crazy ex got out of jail. Now he moved like a zombie, looking for someone he *could* save. Secure, safe women faded by. Listless, he walked to the bridge. Stared at the water. Then he thought… can I count myself?
Paul had been at work when his wife’s crazy ex got out of jail. Now he moved like a zombie, looking for someone he *could* save. Secure, safe women faded by. Listless, he walked to the bridge. Stared at the water. Then he thought… can I count myself?
June 4, 2025 at 9:13 PM
(1-skeet story #4)
Paul had been at work when his wife’s crazy ex got out of jail. Now he moved like a zombie, looking for someone he *could* save. Secure, safe women faded by. Listless, he walked to the bridge. Stared at the water. Then he thought… can I count myself?
Paul had been at work when his wife’s crazy ex got out of jail. Now he moved like a zombie, looking for someone he *could* save. Secure, safe women faded by. Listless, he walked to the bridge. Stared at the water. Then he thought… can I count myself?
(1-skeet story #3)
The Pasta Man sought glory: to eat a mile of noodle. Undoable in one sitting. It’d take days of continuous meal, sleep with it in his mouth. He began. Cooks wove yards, he ate behind. At last the mile passed. Triumph! They cut the end. Suddenly, he was no one.
The Pasta Man sought glory: to eat a mile of noodle. Undoable in one sitting. It’d take days of continuous meal, sleep with it in his mouth. He began. Cooks wove yards, he ate behind. At last the mile passed. Triumph! They cut the end. Suddenly, he was no one.
June 4, 2025 at 12:40 AM
(1-skeet story #3)
The Pasta Man sought glory: to eat a mile of noodle. Undoable in one sitting. It’d take days of continuous meal, sleep with it in his mouth. He began. Cooks wove yards, he ate behind. At last the mile passed. Triumph! They cut the end. Suddenly, he was no one.
The Pasta Man sought glory: to eat a mile of noodle. Undoable in one sitting. It’d take days of continuous meal, sleep with it in his mouth. He began. Cooks wove yards, he ate behind. At last the mile passed. Triumph! They cut the end. Suddenly, he was no one.
(1-skeet story #2)
Got a burger-n-fries order from Canada by error. Called the guy; “I can cancel it,” he said. “Nah,” I said. “I like a road trip.” Two days’ drive. Knocked on the door, ready to shake hands. “I’m sorry,” said his wife. “Dan died.” Ate the fries. They were cold.
Got a burger-n-fries order from Canada by error. Called the guy; “I can cancel it,” he said. “Nah,” I said. “I like a road trip.” Two days’ drive. Knocked on the door, ready to shake hands. “I’m sorry,” said his wife. “Dan died.” Ate the fries. They were cold.
June 4, 2025 at 12:23 AM
(1-skeet story #2)
Got a burger-n-fries order from Canada by error. Called the guy; “I can cancel it,” he said. “Nah,” I said. “I like a road trip.” Two days’ drive. Knocked on the door, ready to shake hands. “I’m sorry,” said his wife. “Dan died.” Ate the fries. They were cold.
Got a burger-n-fries order from Canada by error. Called the guy; “I can cancel it,” he said. “Nah,” I said. “I like a road trip.” Two days’ drive. Knocked on the door, ready to shake hands. “I’m sorry,” said his wife. “Dan died.” Ate the fries. They were cold.
(1-skeet story #1)
“Always the guide,” moaned Nib the fairy. “Never the hero.” She flew to the city. The smith said, “I’ll make you a tiny blade, we have a rat problem.” She delved into the walls. Days went by. Then the rats poured into the city. Nib leading them, sword shining.
“Always the guide,” moaned Nib the fairy. “Never the hero.” She flew to the city. The smith said, “I’ll make you a tiny blade, we have a rat problem.” She delved into the walls. Days went by. Then the rats poured into the city. Nib leading them, sword shining.
June 3, 2025 at 11:49 PM
(1-skeet story #1)
“Always the guide,” moaned Nib the fairy. “Never the hero.” She flew to the city. The smith said, “I’ll make you a tiny blade, we have a rat problem.” She delved into the walls. Days went by. Then the rats poured into the city. Nib leading them, sword shining.
“Always the guide,” moaned Nib the fairy. “Never the hero.” She flew to the city. The smith said, “I’ll make you a tiny blade, we have a rat problem.” She delved into the walls. Days went by. Then the rats poured into the city. Nib leading them, sword shining.
(1-skeet story #0)
With these 1-skeet stories I aim to make 1) full "narratives" with character + need + choice + consequence (not jokes, poems, gotchas, “what ifs”): beginning, middle & end 2) practicing story in brevity 3) for the joy of myself and whoever likes #microfiction
With these 1-skeet stories I aim to make 1) full "narratives" with character + need + choice + consequence (not jokes, poems, gotchas, “what ifs”): beginning, middle & end 2) practicing story in brevity 3) for the joy of myself and whoever likes #microfiction
June 3, 2025 at 11:34 PM
(1-skeet story #0)
With these 1-skeet stories I aim to make 1) full "narratives" with character + need + choice + consequence (not jokes, poems, gotchas, “what ifs”): beginning, middle & end 2) practicing story in brevity 3) for the joy of myself and whoever likes #microfiction
With these 1-skeet stories I aim to make 1) full "narratives" with character + need + choice + consequence (not jokes, poems, gotchas, “what ifs”): beginning, middle & end 2) practicing story in brevity 3) for the joy of myself and whoever likes #microfiction
hi DC theatre people
January 27, 2025 at 3:54 AM
hi DC theatre people
"Come inside," they said to the storm. We hurried further back, into the basement room where the supplies hadn't yet been soaked, shut the door against the deluge. They came and opened that door anyways. "Come inside here, too," they said to the storm.
November 6, 2024 at 12:17 PM
"Come inside," they said to the storm. We hurried further back, into the basement room where the supplies hadn't yet been soaked, shut the door against the deluge. They came and opened that door anyways. "Come inside here, too," they said to the storm.
how to be productive in hospital
October 20, 2024 at 6:26 PM
how to be productive in hospital
not flat earther flat universalist. nothing is round. spheres do not exist. that orange you ate is mouth propaganda
October 19, 2024 at 12:58 AM
not flat earther flat universalist. nothing is round. spheres do not exist. that orange you ate is mouth propaganda
i am genuinely confused how all the stats are "economy is record expanding" but as far as i can tell nobody can even get a job application read by a human, let alone a job
October 27, 2023 at 3:21 AM
i am genuinely confused how all the stats are "economy is record expanding" but as far as i can tell nobody can even get a job application read by a human, let alone a job
I would post more if more people reacted but more people would see and react if I posted more
October 22, 2023 at 3:10 AM
I would post more if more people reacted but more people would see and react if I posted more