Drabble Winners!

What an amazing week! You guys did an excellent job with this 100 word challenge. I hope you are proud of your submissions. We thoroughly enjoyed each one.

Here is how the judging worked. Each of the nine moderators voted for their top three in order. Each time a drabble received a first place vote it got three points, a second place vote got two and third place received one. All the drabbles received multiple votes, so all of you should give yourself a pat on the back. But, we have to choose three out of the six.

Third Place goes to...

Matthew Frantz and Leap Of Faith

Second Place goes to...

Hillary Sperry and Transformation of Style

First Place goes to...

Ginger Faulkner and The Endless Struggle

Congratulations! Each of you can choose a query critique or a first chapter (up to 20 pages double spaced) critique. Email us at unicornbellsubmissions @ gmail.com with Drabble Winner in the subject line. Please give us a week or two to get the critique back to you.

Thanks for participating!

Drabble #6--Close to Death

Close to Death 

Heather panted, sweat prominent on her brow. Nausea clung to her stomach as she crawled to the fountain of youth. Her boots were high-tops, and left dragging trails in the salty marsh.

Spoonbills rested here, a plethora of pink birds arranged around a watery nest. You weren't supposed to feed them, but Heather had no choice. She was dying, and the dead should be allowed to break laws. Tracing a triangle in the wet dirt, she brought out tubers and bulbs from her pocket.

The birds retreated, started to eat. Heather crawled to the fountain, and drank.

Drabble #5--Transformation of Style

Transformation of Style

I stared at the rows of shoes in the window, imagining myself lying surrounded by masses of them. I grinned at the picture in my head. I could live happy in that nest for days.

The plethora of styles beckoned me through the door. A sales girl bounced into view and sat me down. After a fifteen minute whirlwind, I was walking away from the shop four inches taller. Rows of tiny, metallic, triangles glittering on my calves.

These boots may not be the fountain of youth, but I swear time pauses a little every time I take a step.

Drabble #4--Magic Kept

Magic Kept

A triangle of light touched the meadow floor. Sparks swirled like dust, and color exploded in the small space. A plethora of blossoms had been born in the glorious mixture of sun and magic.

I edged from the birds nest and shimmied down the tree, my boots catching only once on a strand of moss. 

Most night pixies lasted only a few moon turns, but not me. I had lived in time with the faeries since my first midnight trip in the light.

I stepped into the glow and felt it course through me. My own personal fountain of youth.

Drabble #3--The Endless Struggle

The Endless Struggle

Smith vomited on his boots.

The killer’s nest hosted a plethora of women, throats slit, drained of blood. The expert, a kid called Boston, caressed triangles engraved in the bodies.

Smith shuddered; deja vu.

Noticing his angst, Boston’s youthful eyes gleamed.
“Ready for the back room, old man?”

Smith opened the door, a bathtub overflowed with blood.
Boston descended upon him. Smith fought wildly as his head plunged into a dark viscus grave.
No, not again.
The sick personal fountain of youth. 

Wrinkles faded as power emerged.
Smith transformed into youth.
“Till next time, old man,” they whispered to themselves.

Drabble #2--Leap of Faith

Leap of Faith

I stood at the Fountain of Youth, boots worn, rat's-nest hair dripping sweat, pouring into my eyes. I lifted my hat and wiped my brow. I'd finally made it.

The three mountains that made the triangle teeth weren't bad. Hard to find, but not bad. This plethora of trees, though, who needs that? 

Now water coursed by.

I wasn't sure how to trust it.

How's it worked exactly?

Fine print somewhere, always was.

Eternal youth?

Maybe.

A river never stops either, but it does end. A big cosmic joke, right?

One way to tell.

I lifted my cup and drank.

Drabble #1 First, the Treasure

First, the Treasure 

The young pirate’s boots clumsily sought each point of the triangle drawing on the cave floor. One misstep, and the walls would fall, burying him and the treasure in a nest of rubble and gold coins.

But stumble, he did. The cavern trembled, and a plethora of rocks from pebbles to boulders filled the entrance before he realized what he’d done. He clutched his map as he was buried, the X his downfall, inches above wealth, an inch from death. He’d arranged his quest too hastily.

His last thought was I should have searched for the Fountain of Youth first.