Drabblecast Covers Collage 2018 01

Category: Drabblecast B-Sides Page 2 of 10

Cover for Drabblecast episode The Horses of Lir by Bo Kaier

Drabblecast B-Sides 61 – The Horses of Lir

Cover for Drabblecast episode The Horses of Lir by Bo KaierI sent this one to The Saturday Evening Post. Three times. They kept losing the ms. I stopped.

The moonlight was muted and scattered by the mist above the loch. A chill breeze stirred the white tendrils to a sliding, skating motion upon the water’s surface. Staring into the dark depths, Randy smoothed his jacket several times, then stepped forward. He pursed his lips to begin and discovered that his throat was dry.

Sighing, almost with relief, he turned and walked back several paces. The night was especially soundless about him. He seated himself upon a rock, drew his pipe from his pocket and began to fill it.

Drabblecast Zombie Massacree by Aaron Siddall

Drabblecast B-Sides 60 – The Great VüDü Linux Teen Zombie Massacree

Drabblecast Zombie Massacree by Aaron SiddallBob and I attracted a pack of zombies when we stopped to fuel up at the Texaco in Buffalo Springs. I hoped we’d lost them, but hope was all I had. Bob said they were the fresh remains of a high school football team who’d been drowned and de-souled by water daemons at a lakeside party.

Young, strong corpses have the speed and stamina to run down a deer. Until the sun and wind finally turned their flesh to stinky jerky, they’d be dangerous enough to make a vampire shit bats. And fresh zombies are persistent as porn site pop-up ads. If they take a shine to the smell of your blood, they might track you for days, stopping only if live meat falls right in their laps.

Drabblecast cover for The Sound of Useless Wings by Lori Anne Baumgartner

Drabblecast B-Sides 59 – The Sound of Useless Wings

Drabblecast cover for The Sound of Useless Wings by Lori Anne BaumgartnerI try to ignore my brothers and sisters as I do my work under the hot twin suns. They call me names. They call me dreamer. They call me innocent. They call me ridiculous.

All the while, I herd the rodents into the pen. I collect animal droppings and scatter them in the garden. I chew what long grass I can find and spit it out into the buckets so my mother can make the doughy bread that is a staple of the Hort diet.

Cover for Drabblecast B-Sides episode 58, CopyCrime, by E.C. Ibes

Drabblecast B-Sides 58 – Copycrime

Cover for Drabblecast B-Sides episode 58, Copycrime, by E.C. IbesOn a grey misty day in November 2028,the clock in Winston’s room struck fourteen. He’d hacked the clock’s mechanism to make his point. Old-fashioned clockwork was the only thing left that could still be hacked.

“Fourteen chimes,” he declaimed into his diary,”represents the fourteen years that copyright originally lasted. But today is the centenary of Disney’s _Steamboat Willie_. One hundred years after its premiere, it’s still locked up. Copyright keeps getting extended, and enforcement is ever more intrusive. Look!”

Drabblecast B-Sides episode 57, The Pain Peddlers, by Bo Kaier

Drabblecast B-Sides 57 – The Pain Peddlers

Drabblecast B-Sides episode 57, The Pain Peddlers, by Bo KaierThe phone bleeped. Northrop nudged the cut-in switch and heard Maurillo say, “we got a gangrene, chief. They’re amputating tonight.”

Drabblecast B-Sides B56, Tick Flick, by Bo Kaier

Drabblecast B-Sides 56 – Tick Flick

Drabblecast B-Sides B56, Tick Flick, by Bo KaierGreg jabbed Jeff’s third shoulder, though he made sure he didn’t hit hard enough to capsize the snack bucket. Jeff would make him pay if he did. “Quit hoggin’ the candy. Trailer’s almost over.”
Jeff took his mouth out of his food long enough to ask, “What kind you want?”
“You know. A softy.”
“None left.”
“Liar! I know you ain’t drunk ’em all yet.”
Jeff shrugged all his shoulders and relented. “Here.”

Cover for Drabblecast B-Sides 54, The Lonely Child, by Melissa McClanahan

Drabblecast B-Sides 55 – The Lonely Child

Cover for Drabblecast B-Sides 54, The Lonely Child, by Melissa McClanahanSomething pricked Marla’s hand. Groggily, very much so, she turned over in bed and spoke to her husband.

“John,” Marla whispered, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice, “turn on the light. There’s a pin in the bed.”

“What?” Her husband rolled over in the dark, and she felt his elbow bump into her leg.

“John, there’s a needle. In the bed. With your baby. Turn on the light.” Her words were firm. John got up and turned on the light, looking at her unsteadily.

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