Brokeback Mountain: Our Community's Common Bond > Brokeback Mountain Fan Fiction & Poetry
The Bettermost Drabblefest: Please Join In!
MaineWriter:
Drabbles...short snippets of stories or dialogue, are good writing exercises and fun to read. Authors are often challenged to write a drabble in response to a prompt: a word, a phrase, or something similar. A few months ago, I was in an interactive forum where we had an impromptu "drabblefest." A bunch of authors were online and we wrote quick drabbles in response to prompts people threw at us.
I thought we could do the same thing here, but have it be ongoing, not a one shot thing. My thought: someone (me or whoever) can post a prompt and writers can respond with drabbles. Readers are encouraged to join in with comments. There is no limit to the number of drabbles. When the writing dies down on a prompt, someone can post a new one and the writing begins again.
I'd like to keep guidelines to a minimum. Drabbles should be 100-300 words and be somehow BBM related.
I'll start with a few prompts (and the first drabble). Since it is cold here, winter is on my mind. How about it people write something in response to:
* bitter cold
* snow
* winter wheat
Have fun, everyone! Please feel free to join in. All are welcome to share their writings, ideas, and comments. Enjoy...
Leslie
MaineWriter:
Lazy L Farm
Quanah, TX
“Damn, I hate being sick.” Jack pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose again, eyes red-rimmed and bleary.
“Can I get ya somethin’, a cup a tea?” Ennis asked.
“No, just sit here with me, keep me company,” replied Jack, patting the seat on the couch next to him.
Ennis pulled Jack close in his arms, tucking an afghan around his legs. “C’mere babe,” he said softly, feeling Jack curl up like a cat against his body.
“I’m fuckin’ freezin’ and I can’t get warm.”
Ennis could feel Jack shivering, and rubbed his arms, trying to warm him with his own body heat. Then suddenly, “I’m sorry, Jack, sorry for all of it.”
“Sorry for what?” Jack mumbled, his head buried in Ennis’s chest.
“For makin’ you go campin’ all those times, in the fuckin’ cold. You used ta shiver like this and could never get warm.”
“Ya don’t need ta apologize, En. It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, but you’d get cold, yer muscles would ache. I never appreciated how busted up you were from rodeoin’ til we got here ta Quanah. I’d make ya sleep on the ground in the snow and rain…what a fuck up I was.”
“It’s all in the past, En. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Yer here now, keepin’ me warm.”
“I don’t know if there’s enough warmth in me ta make up for all those cold days.”
“There is babe, believe it. I’m feelin’ it now.”
“You are?”
“I am.”
“I love you Jack.”
“I know.”
(254 words)
Scott6373:
Ennis stood on the self-made stoop of the run down shack that he and Alma shared with the children. Winter, in all it's fury had set in, with not as much snow as bone chillin cold. He shoved his hands deeps inside the pockets of his coat and stepped off the stoop, lowering his head against the stiff, cold breeze. Whe the wind died down, he looked out over the vastly unforgining terrain that had been his particular view every morning. The only thing seemingly unaffected by the cold were the fields of winter wheat he could see on one of the neighboring farms. His thoughts turned to that last day on Brokeback.
He had been sitting on that hill all morning, even before Jack had risen from a fitfull night of sleep. The grass on the hill undulated like surface water on the lake where they had stripped their clothes and dove, carelessly beneath the cool liquid. That first meeting of skin and water causing a shock that sent crawling and tingling pins of excitement through their bodies. The memory of the cold brought him back, as another burst of chilled air caught him looking out at the field of winter wheat.
"Gotta mail that off to Jack today," he said, as if in reply to the urgency of the wind. Don Wroe's cabin next month. The whole week. With Jack.
232 Words
ifyoucantfixit:
Ennis was up early in the morning and checking the sheep. He decides to see how those lambs are making it in the cold the ones that had to be carried in a sling on horseback up the mountain.
The ewe was laying on the ground with the small white bundle she was wrapped around all safe and warm in her bodies curve.. He could see the small whiffs of breath hitting the cold predawn air. His own breath showing as steam coming out in long spurts. It seemed to be
getting colder these past weeks,,,it seemed..Probably just a cold snap he figured...Summer will return in a blast of indian winds coming down from the mountain. so jack and me can go back to the river in the early evening and go skinny dipping again. Ennis returns to
the small pup tent,along with,the smelll of cat piss, He snuggled in
for a couple of winks, before rising early. Ennis lay down thinking of
jack and jack, and a good warm breakfast.
He woke feeling his feet and face frozen, and the air so very chilled, the air from his lungs was filling the tent as he rose..The sun was
already up and he squinted and opened his eyes,,,reluctantly. As
he did so he could see the ground was white and the place was all covered in snow... He slammed on his boots and jumped outside, and
then could see it was covered with snow everywhere,,,but the
sun was obviously out so they could sure use that cup of Joe.
He saddled cigar butt and headed out for breakfast........
el_wing:
148 words
“Damn Ennis, it’s bitter cold out here. Don’t ya think we should be doin’ this somewhere’s else? And we ain’t far from that house neither--someone could see.”
Ennis rocked his hips forward. “Since when were you the one ta begin worryin’?”
“Since I’m standin’ here with bare ass stickin’ out.”
“Mmm, it’s damn near as white as the snow too--like ta of blinded me. Damn perdy though.”
“Shut up--" Jack groaned, "now over to the right more. Yeah, that’s it—right--right--there that's the spot.”
Ennis sucked in a lung-full a' cold air.
“Pull down them jeans farther if ya don’t what ta git ‘em mussed up, Jack.”
Jack shifted his weight to his left leg.
“Damn winter wheat--keeps getting’ in the way," Jack said, poutin'. "It messed up crossin’ the T.”
“Boo-hoo. Way you talk, ya think ya never wrote yer name in the snow before.”
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