As the snow piles up outside, allow me to share with you a drabble (that is, a story of exactly 100 words) I composed a couple of years back, with my compliments.
Sulkily, Sharon tore off the wrapping, opened the box. She frowned. "What is it?"
"The perfect gift for the moody teenager–what you’ve always wanted."
"Looks like a lump of clay." She rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."
"Dad ordered it special," Mom said. "When you touch it, it becomes whatever you want most. Try."
Sharon snorted, but humored them. She put both hands on the clay. It metamorphosed into a monstrous vulture that slashed open both her parents and ate their hearts before they could squawk.
"Huh," Sharon said. "Guess it works."
A veritable font of holiday cheer, that’s me. All best to you and yours, and a happy 2010, too.
