Drabbling Away With Dom

I've been quite busy this summer. But one of the things that have stayed consistent (since May even!) are these cute lil' things called Drabbles.

If you don't know, a Drabble is a 100 word fiction story. No more, no less. They revolve around a word of the day, which you can find on the Fiction Shorts Medium publication. Often they come with a surprise twist. Sometimes you need to base the story around a photo, or include a specific first or final line. They vary day-to-day!

Now, don't ask me why, but a few of them just seemed to revolve around this made-up character named Dom. And his mysterious boyfriend. Sometimes I switch point of view, but somehow still involve the characters. You decide if they're good for each other. Also, what name would you give the boyfriend?

Drummer Boy’s Break - instrument

My instrument and I are one. We move in a chaotic reciprocity. With each hit there’s a bounce back of assurance. With each crash there’s a resonance of understanding. We hold everything together in the beat of our heart-drum.

Wait, is that Dom out there? No…

Gosh it’s been ages since…

No.

Focus on the beat, on the timing, on my beloved… Dom!

It is him!

Wait what beat am I on? Shit, it’s falling apart. C’mon get back on track. This always happens. Just like with Dom, it starts off hot and then crashes. Why’d he have to come?

Rising to the Occasion - doughy

Dom stared at the doughy mess on the counter. The recipe called for an hour rest for the yeast to rise. Yet the only thing that rose was his anxiety. Drummer boy was going to be over soon for homemade pizza and a movie. A bit of Netflix and chill. But Dom was not chill. Dom was stressed.

At this point he needed a backup plan.

When drummer boy arrived, the apartment smelled of oregano and scented candles. Both dinner and Dom were ready.

And the dough in the trash along with a box from the pizzeria close by.

“Ready?”

Everyone Wants a Lil Luck - climb

My alarm hadn’t rung. The bus was late. But I knew Dom’s Cleaners was open for another half hour and I had to pick up my suit for the wedding tomorrow. It was my best fit. But last wedding it’d gotten stained after a bridesmaid climbed me like a tree in the broom closet. That suit was my lucky charm.

But today was not lucky.

At Dom’s, the lights are off and the door doesn’t budge. I try banging. No response.

Turning in defeat, I see my suit quickly get into a vehicle across the street.

“Sorry! Needed some luck!”

Maybe Crocheting Would Be Easier - set, put, run

Dom had given up on pizza. Dough wasn’t his friend. But he still desired to impress his boyfriend, especially since things had begun to cool between them.

He wanted to start with something basic. A Jello cake for their monthiversary.

It was simple really, it mostly just involved the jello setting properly. Once cooled; he’d put Cool Whip on top, add a biscuit crust, and flip.

But when Dom flipped it, the jello began to run. It had not set. Too much water. Not enough patience.

Now? What would become of their future? Would his boyfriend end up running too?

These stories were originally published on Medium under my pseudonym Poet in the Arctic.