Welcome to the Teapot Nebula.

One Hundred Words. Infinite Worlds.

A small glimpse further into my mind, its a dark place with many cobwebs and often forgotten about. This blog was about drabbles, but has evolved into a few other random writings, or witterings when I'm not abandoning it alltogether for other crafty pursuits.

Tuesday, 18 August 2009


“You can’t keep doing this, its insane. Normal people just don’t go around murdering people for a living.” Cordelia said pointing at the guns spaced across the bed. “Eric talk to her she isn’t listening to me.” Cordelia glared at her brother leaning against the door.
“Its none of our business” Eric grit between clenched teeth.
“Its my job.” B said the black butterfly tattoo on her back stark against pale skin as she reached for a gun.
“Its mad!”
“We all do what we have to to survive. Death is a bitch.. and now we're all sons of bitches."

On July 16th 1945 Kenneth Bainbridge, leaned close to Robert Oppenheimer and said "Now we're all sons of bitches." immediately after the first atom bomb test explosion at Alamogordo, New Mexico’s Trinity Site.


Grey wheat turned into a muddy ruin, the mud dragging me down with every step. I fell into black earth, the sack of food stuffs burst and sunk into the mood. I dragged myself up and gathered what tins and packets I could pull free of the black mud. The light was fading, clouds obscuring the orange ball of the setting sun at my back. I ran east across the field to the uncertain sanctuary of an abandoned farmhouse. Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me. And with the dark came nightmare made flesh and bone.

Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me. --HG Wells from the War of the Worlds

Chimera Writing group prompt: quote

Tuesday, 4 August 2009

in a Dark Dungeon

Dean woke in the dark head pounding, blunt fingers brushing the gash at his temple; the wound still wept blood in a sluggish trickle. “Sam?” he whispered looking around the dark room. “Sammy?”
“Yeah I’m here.”
“Where are we?”
“This is an oubliette, labyrinth's full of 'em” Sam recited as he cracked his head on the ceiling.
“Really. I didn't know that.”
“Oh don't act so smart. You don't even know what an oubliette is.” Sam grimaced
“Do you?” Dean spit out.
“Yes. It's a place you put people... to forget about 'em!”
“Dude this is...”
Sam swore.

Chimera Drabble Prompt: Dungeon

disclaimer: Labyrinth and Supernatural aren't mine this was written for amusement only.. based on an old converstation with Flame.