One brick, rubble, two bricks, rubble, rubble, three bricks, rubble, four bricks, rubble, rubble, rubble, five bricks ... ... ... buckets full.
Hannah stood up slowly, stretching her back and thin arms. With cracked and bloody hands she grabbed hold of the bucket handles and shuffled to the waiting carts -- bricks into one, rubble the other -- then trudged back to her spot.
A dozen scrawny women were clearing the collapsed building by hand.
One brick, rubble, two bricks, child’s foot. ‘Georg, I’ve another.’
She was joined by an elderly man. ‘Must have got the whole family. Poor bastards.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.