Hope from hopelessness

‘Would you like anything else?’

Katja looked up at the waiter.

‘Do you know where my date went?’

‘He’s left.’

‘Left?’

‘When you were absent.’

‘What the …’

‘He’s paid the bill.’

‘But left me sitting here like an idiot.’

‘He was just avoiding the inevitable.’

‘What?’

‘He’d ask for a second date and you’d say no.’

‘So he left?’

‘No-one has ever said yes. So he bailed early. I guess he can tell himself there might have been a faint chance rather than none.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Would you have said yes?’

‘No.’

‘Then he gained a little hope from hopelessness.’ 

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

You don't deserve each other

‘That’s it? It’s over?’

‘He needs to apologise.’

‘For what? Not breaking a promise to a friend?’

‘He was sneaking behind my back.’

‘He was being discrete.’

‘I was his girlfriend.’

‘And you don’t need to know his friend’s secrets.’

‘He owes me an apology.’

‘He tried explaining it and you wouldn’t listen.’

‘Then he should try again.’

‘He’s not going to; he’s a fatalist.’

‘What?’

‘You made your position clear. He’s going to respect your wishes.’

‘My wish is an apology.’

‘Then keep wishing.’

‘He’s giving up?’

‘He’s given up. And so am I. You don’t deserve each other.’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

It's probably for the best

‘You’re just going to let her go?’

‘I tried reasoning with her; she wouldn’t listen.’

‘And?’ James asked, exasperated. ‘Try again.’

‘I can’t force her to trust me.’

‘You love her, right?’

Mark nodded.

‘Then why are you giving up so easily?’

‘That’s just how it is. Her friends can’t understand why she’s with me, I don’t understand either. She deserves someone better.’

‘Not this crap again. That’s for her to decide; not you or her friends.’

‘Well, she’s decided.’

‘Based on a misunderstanding!’

‘That I’ve tried to explain.’

‘Then explain again.’

‘There’s no point. It’s probably for the best.’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Her mother

 The screaming stopped with the slamming of a door.

‘Who the hell was that?’

‘Sarah’s mother.’

‘You’re her mother.’

‘Her biological mother.’

‘What did she want?’

‘Sarah.’ Hannah dropped to her haunches, crying.

‘But you’re her mother now. … Hannah?’

‘The adoption … it hasn’t been finalized.’

‘But …’

‘Mom, what are we going to do.’

‘You need to talk to Matt. And to a solicitor.’

‘She’s going to take her baby … our baby back. She says she’s not ill anymore.’

‘Ring Matt. I’ll collect Sarah from school.’

‘Mom.’

‘It’ll be okay.’

‘She’s her child.’

‘She’s yours as well.’

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

Mothers

 Carrie popped the cards into the letterbox.

‘Who’re they for?’ Emma asked.

‘Our mothers.’

‘Their birthdays are close?’

‘Same day.’

‘Wow. And you’re not going to visit either?’

‘We don’t get on.’

‘Both of them?’

Carrie quickened her pace.

‘Hey, slow down!’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘You fell out with your mother-in-law?’

‘My mother.’

‘And he fell out with his mother as well?’

‘His mother-in-law.’

‘So neither of you fell out with his mother.’

‘We both did.’

‘But you just said …’

‘Emma!’

‘Unless …’

‘Stop.’

‘Really? Ryan’s your step …’

‘No! Stop leaping to …’

‘Wow!’

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.