Drabbles 208 and 209

Okay, so I missed one day. I got about twenty words written and then fell asleep. Day 208 was a long day for me. That makes this strike... *searched through past entries to find out which strike we're on* ... strike six. Yesterday's entry actually was finished on time, at 6:57 (gave myself an extra hour, remember, because nocturnal), I just forgot to post it, and so does not constitute a strike. And now, without further ado, here's your belated drabble 208:

 

The puny human was hiding behind some dustbins, desperately hoping that the werewolf wouldn't notice them there or would find something more interesting to do and leave. This wasn't to be, however, as when the werewolf couldn't find any suitable prey it decided to curl up and go to sleep, right in that very alleyway. That left the human with only two options: stay where they were and hope that the werewolf didn't wake, or try to sneak past the sleeping monster and hope that it didn't wake. Either way, the odds didn't look very good from the human perspective.

 

And drabble 209, on finished on time at 6:57 but posted much, much later:

 

“Okay, s/he's definitely dead this time,” said Blue, poking the now rotting corpse of the Author with a stick. He turned away and asked, “So now what do we do?”

“Don't ask me,” replied Raven; “I wasn't even sure we'd continue to exist after this. I have no idea what happens next.”

“Maybe we have free-will now,” suggested Blue.

“I think we might have had that from the start,” said Raven.

“Are we really about to start a philosophical debate over the rotting corpse of our creator?” asked Blue.

Raven shrugged. “There doesn't seem to be anything else going on.”