The Goddess of Junk, The Taste of Giggles, and The Clumsiness of Ballerinas

Drabbles I through III

The missing drabbles (short, short stories exactly 100 words) inspired by my infatuation with the writing service Prompts & Happenstance.

As you all know, I started from rubbish. I was nothing and nobody all at once. I was not merely unseen but invisible. In my ascension to greatness, I never imagined that my name would be words that fall out of the stars and spell out constellations.


an AI-generated portrait

I never thought the gods would show me their home and offer me to assume their mantle. A mortal is not a goddess, but now, my name is uttered in songs of praise. They erect temples in my honor. They offer me sacrifices. Never, in all my rising to, could I imagine.

a giggle as observed under a microscope

The taste of giggles, as any child knows, is a multi-faceted explosion of flavors. While giggles have been laboratory-studied and academic, peer-reviewed journals have been consulted, the answer is always a variant.

Some swear they taste like cream soda from a glass bottle. Others claim they taste of cotton candy and other spun sugars. They are multicolored and dazzle like sequins or glitter. But their taste is unexpected, a burst of flavors.

The way your taste buds radiate when the initial flavor of giggles is laid upon your tongue. The science cannot quantify it, but it is a scrumptious delight.

Her mother watched, mouth pursed in disapproval. Like a figurine in a music box, the girl twirled in her tower of glass. Everything was fragile yet when she spun, she felt like a fractal.

She crashed, and immediately, the reality of her world shattered through her imagination. She was not a ballerina.

Her mother scoffed.

She did not speak, yet the girl felt her derision. It was palpable. Almost a presence in the room with the two.

All the girl had ever wanted was to please her. But her mother smirked. “Bottomless grace and all this dumb thinking,” she remarked.

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