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Drabble a Day 2015
Day 001
Daily Goal: 100 Words
Today's Output: 447 Words (!)
Series: Project Less Talk, More Robots
Characters: Yna, Hendrickson
Content Warnings/Triggers/Mentions: Food, Blood/Injury

Author Notes:
Yna is a young scientist working for an elite university that specializes in machinery. She admires her superior, Gen. Hendrickson, the leader of the military defense group that her university partners up with. In this world, science rules supreme, with giant machines considered the future. Magic is believed to be non-existent, and any groups that practice such beliefs are oftentimes punished. How apt that Yna has a secret she doesn't feel safe telling anybody...

This drabble is a raw, rough, and unedited practice piece. Get the words out, in other words. (Hah, see what I did there? I know. That was terrible. I'm sorry.)


Yna thought it was strange that Gen. Hendrickson stopped coming to the bi-weekly board meetings. She wondered, briefly, if he had gotten sick, or if he had injured himself in battle. The thought of him in bandages, or worse, gravely wounded and bleeding, made the veins in her wrists feel icy cold.

It was a few minutes before six o’ clock in the evening, the time they had decided upon for said meeting. Her senior scientists chattered around the buffet table, richly flavored food teasing even her own eyes and tongue. What were they truly discussing, besides the taste of the fine pot roast that the chef had perfected after years of failure? She decided it was of utmost importance to fetch Gen. Hendrickson before the scientists wandered away with bellies full and notepads empty.

Soon Yna found herself facing the huge metal doors that kept her outside of Gen. Hendrickson’s office. It is just a door, Yna told herself, nothing to be afraid of, here. She inhaled, rapped her knuckles against the door, and waited.

When she received no response, she called out his name, loud enough to be heard but not so loud as to be considered boisterous. Gen. Hendrickson did hate the rumbustiousness of her younger scientist colleagues, and the last thing she wanted was for her most admired to hate her. Tentatively she pressed her fingers against the metal, and it felt cold against her skin. She shivered, and pushed it open. Inside, she could see the back of his fancy chair, and from her angle she could see part of his face and his gloved palm on the chair’s armrest. The room was dark, save for the light that came from the fireplace.

She called out his name again, more softly this time, staying rooted at the doorway. Hendrickson raised his visible hand, and motioned for her to come hither. So she did. As she approached, she noticed something peculiar about his glove, almost as if it had a cooler than usual tinge to it.

Yna stopped walking as soon as she was behind his chair, yet Hendrickson motioned for her to come around to face him. So she did, and upon seeing the light blue orb in his other hand, she took a sharp intake of breath, her eyes widening at his unexpected discovery.

Hendrickson tilted the light blue orb around in his palm, as if he were swirling a fine glass of champagne, his eyes fixed on the strange thing floating on his hand.

“Could you, perhaps, tell me,” Hendrickson said, never taking his eyes off the orb, “how long you have been keeping this a secret from me?”


I'm Mel, a Filipina artist and writer. I'm an MA Creative Writing student working on her own projects at the same time. Nice to meet you!