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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by kdf62 on November 1, 2011
"The first 100 words of this story were written as a drabble for a collection of drabbles that I am working on."

On Display

Cold glass spheres tumbled together in the container on the book shelf. Jon felt for the weapon at his side and found nothing. He had awoke surrounded by darkness, how long had he been here? The answer eluded him; replaced by this one thought, escape.

In the distance he could hear someone speaking unknown words. What was that he heard? "Collection." one was heard to say. The amused form moved toward and examined his prize upon the shelf.

Try as he might the marbles in the jar rotated and Jon fell into them again and again; trapped forever.

Memories of his childhood flashed before his eyes and Jon thought of Emily his wife and his two daughters, Betty and Bobbie. What would they do without him to guide them and protect them?

The room was dark except for a dim light from a candle on the center of a table in the middle of the room, that however was enough illumination for the grusome form to see into the glass container that at the moment was Jon's humble abode.

Not for long thought Jon, he just had to escape; his family was depending upon him and these aliens were not going to be the death of him. No, not today nor anytime soon. A plan was sneaking forth from somewhere in the back of Jon's mind. He was a soldier and had been trained for situations like this, he would survive this and write his great novel about it; that was a fact.

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