No Sense Of Direction

I’ve been writing nearly all my life but that has mainly been my poetry, until the last couple of years has seen me branch out to other genres. I have found it extremely rewarding and a huge learning curve and this article is a classic example of that need to learn.

The short story below has been written for a contest that a publication on Medium is running. If you’re are curious here is the link.

The stipulation is that the short story needed to be a true story written as a fiction piece and that it be a ‘Triple Drabble’.

Now what on earth is a Triple Drabble? In fact, what is a Drabble full stop? It’s not a word I’ve come across in my many years of writing.

For those unsure, as I was, what a Triple Drabble is, Google come through again. How did we ever once survive without Google?

Here’s what I learned from Google about the word Drabble and it’s meaning.

In a writing context a Drabble is a story that is exactly 100 words, no more, no less.

Therefore the challenge for this context is a ‘Triple Drabble’ meaning that it must consist of 300 hundred words, no more and no less.

Sounds easy doesn’t it but remember a Drabble or Trible Drabble’s word count must be exact. Not one word more nor one word less.

Trust me it’s not as easy as it sounds.

Now that I’ve learned something new, on with the short 300 word Triple Drabble.

Once upon a time a young girl lived in a big city. She woke one morning to a hot summer day, the weather predicted to reach 42 degrees Celsius.

It was Saturday morning and after completing her chores, she was free to fill the rest of the day in any way she pleased. She decided to ask if she could go to the community pool for a swim.

No point in asking her mother as it’d be a straight out no, so she waited until Dad woke up, planning to ask him instead.

Finally her patience paid off and as Dad sat down to eat his breakfast, she took the opportunity and was rewarded with his consent.

She planned on riding her bike to the pool and her father gave her detailed directions on how to get there. It wasn’t hard, it was only a fifteen minute bike ride.

She climbed on to her bike and off she went, peddling her little legs tirelessly.

But half an hour later she returned home in tears. When asked she explained to her father that she couldn’t find the pool.

Her father went through the directions again and off she set with a big smile on her face. She was sure she’d get it right this time.

Half an hour later she returned once more in tears. She’d gotten lost again.

For the third time her father gave her detailed directions and once more she rode off, confident this time she couldn’t get lost.

Half an hour later, when his teary daughter returned once more; dejected, hot and bothered, he turned to his wife, “for your daughter’s sake, please drive her to the swimming pool, stay with her while she swims and then bring her home or we may never see her again.”

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If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.

Originally published on Medium