Friday, 1 February 2013

It's Starting.

The tome has awakened.  I was quite concerned for a bit there.  I'd unwrapped it earlier, and discovered it still bound tight in its silken coverings.  I let it rest as instructed and have tried to ignore the intermittent gurgling and twitching.  Several moments ago, the covering tore open with much gnashing of teeth and a very loud growl, and it revealed itself to me.  It has since happily eaten the last of its wrappings and a napkin left on the table from dinner and belched forth this week's words.

Before I reveal them, I'd like to beg  your indulgence for just a moment.  I cannot tell you how honored I am to be the new caretaker of The Prediction.  RR can tell you, I have never considered myself a writer.  I scribble.  And that's that.  However, from my very first visit to The Prediction, when it was still with Lily, and on through its time in Phil's care, those of you who play each week have greeted my efforts with enthusiasm and more support than I could ever have hoped for.  I am challenged, and inspired each week by all of you.

I won't lie and say that deciding to give the tome a new home wasn't a hard decision, knowing that I would no longer be able to compete in the weekly challenge, but it is one I'm so glad I made.  I can already tell I'm going to love doing this thing.

The tome is growling again, and giving me pointed stares from its perch on the table.  I believe it is time to start the show.

So what words did the little darling disgorge?  They are as follows:

Disgrace
Lance
Trundle

The usual rules apply: 100 words maximum, excluding the title, of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above in the genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or noir. All variants and use of the words as stems are fine.

You have until 11:30 PM (Eastern Standard Time) Thursday, February 7, to get your entries in.  Winners will be announced and new words will be posted by 3:00 PM on Friday, February 8.  I apologize in advance for mucking with the timing a bit.  I'm hoping the new times will make the time zone issue a bit easier for everyone to deal with, and admittedly, give me a bit of extra time for judging.  I'll own up to being QUITE nervous about that bit!

I still have so much to learn about how all this works, but I'm so very happy to have been able to provide a new space for The Prediction!

Let the games begin!


112 comments:

  1. All looking fantastic over here Colleen! I will go away and ponder those wonderful words. Don't be nervous about judging, go with your heart and you'll never go far wrong.

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  2. Golly, am I first to post? It's all a bit echo-ey here at the moment, but no doubt will get warm and crowded before too long.

    A change of focus [19]

    A boil of pustulent hatred, seventeen years in the festering, was lanced by Pettinger’s attack. Without an ounce of sympathy as, bent double, his brother rolled to grab a chair and trundled it, still on his knees, towards a velvet-covered couch, there to lie groaning, he snarled, ‘You and your self-aggrandising plotting! Your ridiculous attempts to infiltrate this country when you’re nothing but a market-trader, partnered with a petty thief and a well-worn whore...’

    ‘We have the judge, and ‘tis ill-luck Goren didn’t know you were my brother...’

    ‘Stupidity!’

    ‘...but we’ve evidence of your disgrace, and intend to use it.’

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    Replies
    1. Just when things couldn't get stickier, there's family. Poor Pettinger! I have faith he'll figure a way out of this, hopefully with none the wiser that his brother is in on it. Another great episode.

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    2. Congratulations, Sandra, on being the first to post a story! And what a wonderful way to start us off! "A boil of pustulent hatred" is amazingly descriptive! I love it. Truly. Great installment! You always leave me wondering what happens next. Thank you!

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    3. The plot thickens! Really looking forward to seeing how this all comes together (and I think I'll have to re-read the whole thing when it's done, there's so much going on!)

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    4. oh yes, 17 years of bottled up emotions ready to come out, anything could happen! and with this 'hero', anything could! Good one!

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    5. I agree with Colleen, love the first line! Great metaphor for a long festering grudge. Enjoyed the action in this scene.

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    6. Thank you all - Pettinger's going to have to wait until next week to sort this out because I'm off to Edinburgh for a few days - researching pubs for a novel-in-progress *sigh* - someone's got to do it!

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    7. I love how this rolls Sandra, as mentioned by others the way the grudge is described at the beginning is Awesome.

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    8. Next. The opening line is a grabber. Brother against brother, well worn whore...you have a wy with words.

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  3. Good luck, Colleen, and here's to the start of a new era. As Phil said, go with your heart. We all love doing this and, for me, it helps with writing no matter what stage we think we are at.

    Let the games begin...indeed!!

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  4. Honor (On Her)

    Her night with Sir Knight went as planned:
    sweet words, strong wine, the dance of the damned.
    His horse wuffled softly outside the tent.
    Inside delicate fabric was rent.
    Blood spilled on the field his calling card,
    a fine knight in sooth, a better one hard,
    stripped of armor, scars revealed,
    darkness hiding wounds yet unhealed.
    His imposing lance seemed hale enough
    but buried inside was deadly stuff
    which years untended had brought to this state
    and passed there to her, sealing her fate.

    Trundling, weakened, disgraced by sick blood,
    goes the once-lovely girl who thought noble meant good.

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    Replies
    1. A night with Sir Knight - what delight -
      and how enjoyably stripey-tent bright!
      I am smiling with pleasure
      tonight at my leisure
      while attempting to rescue my villain
      Even though the word aren't that willing.

      (and well done Rebecca - blame it on the wine!)

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    2. Love it! Not only is it funny, clever, and well-wrought, but it manages to carry a final line that has real meaning and kick.

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    3. lots going on here ... most of it nasty, by the killing last line! brilliant.

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    4. Brilliant! Completely agree with Xero's comments. Wonderful stuff... =D

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    5. Excellent poetry with a rather unfortunate ending for the maiden. I liked the warning in the second line with "dance of the damned", telling the reader there's more to come.

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    6. I loved this, it had a perfect flow that drew me in, and as all that said before " A killer last line"

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    7. Great ode. The last line stays with you for some time. Excellent work Lady.

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  5. (Alpha)

    Adam can hear the flap of a sparrow's wing a mile away. He hears no one approach, yet a woman takes the stool beside his.

    "Hello, Whisper."

    "Hello, Alpha."

    "Thunder told you."

    "He is my husband, Adam, you are our friend."

    "I am a soldier, Wendy, a knight. Jigsaw's visions have always guided my lance, but now..."

    "Now she sees your daughter. There is no disgrace here, find a way to beat this. You always do."

    "Jigsaw would not have trundled this vision out without being certain." Adam frowned, "But how could Megan destroy the world? She has no powers."

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    Replies
    1. and? where does it go, and why and how? More more more!

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    2. Oh hooray, a second episode - and as Antonia says, more more more. I'm fascinated by how the naming of Jigsaw has made her so strong a character; the dialogue in this drives the tale so well.

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    3. Yay! I was really hoping to see more of this! I must echo Sandra's comment about the dialogue. There's a LOT conveyed here in so few words. I'm caught up in it already and want more!

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    4. Like it! This has a real sense of Sapphire & Steel to me, which is definitely a good thing. =)

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    5. I love the way you establish the depth of relationship so effortlessly. Adams despair and confusion are palpable, especially since he's never needed to second-guess Jigsaw before. I can't wait to read more.

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    6. I love the way you establish Adams preoccupation, I'm loving this, can't wait to see this develop.

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    7. I agree with William, I love the introduction! There is so much conveyed here in the dialogue and I feel Adam's worry. Really intrigued by the story and hope you do continue it further. :)

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    8. Even their names tell a story. The dialogue is tight and well used. You build excitement and leave lots of questions. You have to put this story on your front burner. More please.

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  6. Enjoy the Challenge, Colleen, and hope that not to many idiots like me didn't see the link on the side of the page... now you see why I couldn't offer to take it on!

    The zombie is on the move, I will try and concoct a 100 word instalment for this week to keep the story moving. Actually we have been back over the work and added over 1000 words in all, as there is a lot which was not explained. A grim, dark back story is being dripped in here and there as he remembers things.

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  7. Disgrace

    Two dark men walk our halls of white. They move with determination.

    In this place, where the worst disturbance is the daily trundle of the medicine trolley, their firm footsteps are a commotion. We disgraced know no purpose, and we are roused by theirs. Vacant minds stir, blank eyes flicker.

    Orderlies appear as we hollowed men grow agitated.

    Remembrance swells in my head, painful, like a boil. I have not felt pain in so long. I lance the boil and memories spill forth.

    The men have my name on their lips. The shadows of my sins still fall upon me.

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    Replies
    1. "They move with determination" - how much that says, and I can hear the echoing of their passing. Such indeterminable threat evoked here, masterly.

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    2. There is so much to love about this: the way you set the scene so well with minimal description, the mystery of why their minds are vacant and what happens when he remembers. I love "hollowed men" as a descriptor.

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    3. me too, more hollowed men to come, I hope.

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    4. Wow! You always have such interesting worlds. :) I really like the wording of the first sentence, great imagery, and the comparison of remembrance to a lanced boil.

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    5. I definitely want to know more about these hollowed men! That's just a very evocative phrase.

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    6. Justice or revenge is such a different color when you are the accused. Strange to feel bad for the bad but you made it happen. Yay John.

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  8. Oohhh.. shiny new digs! Well done, Colleen!! =D

    I have an idea for an ongoing character piece, so I'm going to follow the example of others and try to write it using The Prediction as inspiration. New place, new ideas and all that! With that said, here's an opening;


    Rain on Dirty Streets (Nightfort 1)

    People always call for rain in Nightfort City. Some hope it will cool the fetid air, but most pray that it will wash the place clean. No hope of that here; you can’t wash away an infection that’s so deeply nested. It has to be lanced.

    The cobble stones beneath the wheel of his old cart were slick with rainwater and effluent as the lone figure of Master Heep trundled his way down Rigby Street. His bent, disgraced body exuded a dark scent of corruption which coloured the air and served only to highlight the sickly atmosphere that surrounded him.

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    Replies
    1. Dark and dirty Dickensian - what an excellent setting of an opening scene. Look forward to the rest.

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    2. A grubby and atmospheric opening. I'm just trying a couple of serials here myself, look forward to seeing where this one goes. =)

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    3. Why thank you, Mr. Archer! I'm so glad you like the place!

      In my own turn, I LIKE your piece! You give a complete sense of Nightfort City right off. Great job conveying the hopelessness inherent of being a citizen of this place. I definitely will NOT be putting Nightfort on my list of potential holiday spots, however, if the mood strikes, please tell us more about it. I'd like to get to know Master Heep a bit better!

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    4. Gorgeous description and the appearance of Master Heep create a solid hook. I want to know more about Newfort, so I'm glad this is the start of a serial!

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    5. This definitely sounds like the start of a great serial! There's a hopelessness in the city but I'm intrigued by Master Heep's intro. Does he signal a change? :)

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    6. Master Heep has my attention. I do hope he has some awful adventures ahead. You created a scary, gloomy atmosphere. Yay. Can't wait for more.

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  9. A short on from me to start with.

    Untitled.

    “You’re a disgrace, Lance Trundle,” she shouted. “Get out. NOW!”

    I’d failed again and Stella wasn’t happy.

    To some it was a simple task: find a target, follow and execute. I just couldn’t do it.

    I'd tried but I hated the taste of blood.

    ~End~

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    Replies
    1. Ha! - I knew a family called Trundle once, and wondered about using their name - short and sweet, David.

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    2. What is it about Lances and blood tests...? (sorry ;) )
      And well done on hitting the three words consecutively and in order! Impressive. =)

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    3. Brilliant usage of the prompts, David! You've gifted us with a complete, well told and really interesting story in just 44 words. That is some crackerjack writing right there! Can't wait to see what you do with 56 more words!

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    4. Wow. I am in awe of what you've done with so few words. This is such a great vignette. I want to know more, both back story and what comes next!

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    5. excellent, no other word for it.

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    6. Creative use of the words in a name. :) It's short but the story came through perfectly. Excellent final line.

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    7. Good job friend. I think your greatest gift is dialogue. Excellent set up. Who is Stella? Why is Lance swayed by her? Why does he need the blood? Why why why???

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  10. (Rise)

    There was a pounding on the door, many floors below.

    "Papa!"

    He pulled her close.

    "You're hurting me, Papa."

    They looked up as Alfred trundled into the room with a rattle and hiss. His brass head bobbed in apology and his chest dial clattered as it span then settled on an image of the front door.

    "I know, Alfred, thank you. Olivia... I have disgraced our name. I was but trying to protect you."

    Angry shouts rose from the street.

    "Tell no one who your father was."

    It was like a lance through her heart. "But-"

    "I must go. Hide."

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    Replies
    1. Oh gosh, John. I'm sorry, but the first thing I envisioned was Batman's butler as a clanking, steam driven, robot! Naturally I now want to know what Olivia's father did, and what the folks at the door are planning on doing TO him!

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    2. That might be exactly where the name came from... ;)

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    3. I like the way you establish a steampunk world with both Alfred and the formal tones of dialogue. I am with Colleen in wanting to know what and who and when and and and. More, please!

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    4. A lot of space created in this - a multi-stage setting for a drama - and I'm on the edge of my seat wondering what's next.

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    5. I'm totally lost with steampunk, no matter how many times people describe it - I was asked to write for a dieselpunk anthology, well, like, forget it, if I don't understand the concept ...
      but this is itnriguing and good!

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    6. I love a good steampunk story and I like where this is going! :) Very curious what he's done that's so horrible, and I have a feeling Olivia is going to become a very interesting character. Also, I like Alfred's mannerisms, makes me think of a rather old man. :)

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    7. I love steam punk. I love strong female leads. You have a full load here. I can't wait for more. Please please please tell me you have this one on the stove as well. I hope Olivia is a tomboy.

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  11. Double-crossed duplicity

    Wooden barrels trundled, echoing, beneath the archway leading to the rear of the Dublin hostelry he’d been directed to.
    Portuguese again, under a ten-day beard, and no amateur, he’d checked escape routes, identified the Englishman awaiting oilskin-packeted letters who, adamant, declared, ‘Passage was paid in Lisbon.’
    ‘Not to me, I received them from a dying man, payment on delivery.’
    ‘I’ll not pay twice for what is mine.’
    Bogus-sanctimonious, ‘Others will be glad to, given the disgraceful nature of their contents.’
    Click of fingers summoned cudgel-carrying accomplices, far too late, as Tao twisty-threaded ‘tween a passing file of lance-hefting Irish soldiery.

    Previous episodes of this can be read on the ‘from Rhodes’ page at the top of http://sandra-linesofcommunication.blogspot.co.uk/

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    Replies
    1. "...Tao twisty-threaded ‘tween a passing file of lance-hefting Irish soldiery. " Talk about wonderful last lines! Always eager to find out what's next for Tao!

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    2. You have such a fantastic command of language, defining Tao's character not only by the dreadful things he does but also by the slick and clever ways he escapes each dangerous situation. Cudgel-carrying accomplices (great alliteration!) have no chance against Tao.

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    3. As RR says, great command of language. Tao certainly has a knack for finding trouble... =)

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    4. Clever, beautiful language as always. Really like your word combos - "twisty-threaded", "cudgel-carrying accomplices". Everything reads so poetically. :)

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  12. I will be back with comments, but meantime, Phil was kind enough to pass on information about Siren Call, the magazine for us lady horror writers. I submitted a story, Dance Macabre, and have had it accepted for the February issue. Thanks, Phil, for passing this link on. I hope for more successes there.

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    Replies
    1. Congrats Antonia! Really exciting. :)

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  13. That warm fuzzy feeling inside

    Mr. Oak trundled across the room; hammer in hand, a grimace on his face. The plumbing in this place was a disgrace, not like at his last house.

    Back there the radiators had boiled twenty-four seven.

    He slammed the tool against the boiler's pipes and grinned in satisfaction when the ancient system gurgled into life.

    Bill, his neighbour, also gurgled as the temperature rose.

    A rusted lance pinning him to the radiator, his already blistered skin sizzling back to life.

    Bill screamed.

    Mr. Oak smiled.

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    Replies
    1. The dread for me is in the apparent delight Mr. Oak is taking in poor Bill's anguish. At first just a cranky old man, he's revealed as a true psychopath. Brilliantly (and sickeningly) done.

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    2. Well, that's one use for a lance ...gruesome tale.

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    3. very gruesome and I want to know more!

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    4. This is excellent. Reminds me a little of the plumber/ baby sketch from Chris Morris' Jam. Hoping we might see more of Mr. Oak... =)

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    5. A dark peek into the life of a normal neighbor...or not. This was atmospheric and sneaky. Love it. I can almost picture the apartment building. Mr. Oak has a lot going on and I hope we get to read more.

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  14. Steven, there are no words to describe how much I love this piece. I don't know why Mr. Oak is slowly roasting his neighbor alive on his boiler, but I'm sure he has a good reason. You have touched the "horrible revenge fantasy" part of my heart here. So few people are able to do that. Thank you, Sir. This is fine, fine, work.

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  15. Thanks, Colleen. Always nice to hear praise :) Now if you'll excuse me I have a neighbour to peel...

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  16. Carrier

    The lance took Rick in the stomach, hot globs of persimmon blood hitting Myka’s face-shield like a cloud of angry bees. Golden eyes, vicious and keen a mere moment ago, flashed wide as air hissed from the rent in his suit. Flushed cheeks paled to blue; flesh began to bloat.

    “You have cursed us all!” Myka said, driving the lance deeper.

    Campbell trundled forward, his mangled leg dragging behind as he clutched for Myka’s shoulder. “Myka no, the parasite!”

    “Disgraceful coward!” Her eyes sparked fury. “We can’t make it home.”

    “Myka-”

    Rick’s face-shield exploded, enveloping Myka in red-orange mist.

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    Replies
    1. How impactful, that 'hot globs of persimmon blood'.

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    2. lots of back story here which is demanding to be told.

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    3. As Antonia says, feels like a lot of story threads being tied together here. I have a great (disturbing) image of the face-shield erupting over Myka.

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    4. This evokes the vast spaces and claustrophobic nature of space to the point where my breathing was labored. Such a depth of story in a few words, and both visual and visceral in the telling.

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    5. This story is colorful and vivid. Vey interested in the backstory. This seems epic as well, greater stories to come.

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  17. Seth won't be quiet, so it seems the story will continue in this new venue. However, I exempt this and all future entries from judging, as our dear Colleen is intrinsic to this tale.

    Offer

    Like a deep-rooted cyst, Nate’s self-loathing needed lancing. I knew just the place for it.

    He balked. “A brothel? No.”

    “Trust me.”

    Sybil met us in the foyer. “Trundling home with your wounded?”

    “He needs Sunitra.”

    “I said no,” Nate spat.

    “All is consensual here,” Sybil soothed. “If you and Sunny do not come to accord, first drink’s on me.”

    Sunitra smiled. “No disgrace in conversation.”

    Watching them leave, Sybil murmured, “He’s not the only one who needs a sin-eater.”

    “I’m fine.”

    “Seth, darling, you cannot lie to me. I see everything.”

    “For a price.”

    Sybil bared her teeth. “Indeed.”

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    Replies
    1. oh good one, the story moving on based on dialogue which is sharp and perfectly formed.

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    2. Perfection indeed - I almost dare say this is my favourite, but can't be so hasty ... and am SO very glad it is continuing.

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    3. Nice to see a sin-eater here. I'm wondering whether that's in a more traditional sense or, with the bared teeth, something a little different. =)

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    4. Great installment. I like this new character. I must say I found their current adventure amusing and then mysterious. Great one.

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  18. Oh, first time in a new home. Yippee!

    You say Conversation, I say Conversion.

    There is no disgrace in it, admitting you’re wrong. Not in these sad, benighted times. Everyone is wrong, don’t you think? Who is to say what is right in the first place? There is certainly no pain attached to such admissions, just a quick realisation of the mind, a boil on the soul lanced. Take your time, I can trundle around amusing myself, happy to let you reach whatever catharsis you need to. But the delay is unnecessary, and of course, painful. To you, of course. Not me.

    Ready? Excellent.

    So, you were telling me where to find the girl.

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    Replies
    1. Utterly superb - precise, deep and chilling, extremely so.

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    2. Nice, I like the way the first paragraph sounds like the pontificated self-justification of a psychopath to his victim, but then it turns out to be the 'good guy'. (I imagine him as a police inspector stepping outside of the law, of course, that doesn't mean he's not psychopathic anyway... just good at hiding it from his bosses...)

      Oh, just realised it could still be read as the bad guy, looking for a witness or some such. Kind of prefer to think of it as a psychopathic copper though... ;)

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    3. This piece is insidious from the start, the soothing tone creating the opposite reaction, carried out through the skin-crawling ending. Classic and chilling in how very quiet it is.

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  19. for update purposes - the zombie is at the point of his unwritten diary where it won't fit the words this week, so no instalment to offer. He is at the zombie convention, calling himself Nevermore which everyone is instantly converting either to Mr More or Nev - as people do and he is tracking another kill, he's hungry.
    He has dismissed his conscience but a seriously dark back story is emerging, leading up to why he was killed. We have been back over the book and added hints here and there, which are getting darker as time goes on. We now know he was held in a basement for a long time, tethered to a pipe, bars at the window but why is yet to be revealed.

    if Colleen is kind enough to grant Skullface/Nevermore a page, we will post a few bits.

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    Replies
    1. Antonia, I'd love to set up a page for skullface! I'm so glad you liked the idea. I'll have it ready for you in a day or so. Thank you!

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    2. that will be brilliant! thank you so much! I have been doing a ghastly edit job tonight, just finished, dropping by to read some good stuff, to assure myself there are still Real Writers in this world. Then I hope to do another 1000 words with Skullface, to explore this kill a bit further. It's his third.

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  20. Nice place you've got here, thanks for hosting us. not sure where this came from, or how it got there but I hope you enjoy it.

    Family Secret

    Her status update was like a lance to his heart,
    His brain began to trundle not sure where to make a start.
    He could only think of the dishonour, the hubris, and disgrace;
    Then she followed up with pictures of her contorted pleasured face.

    He downed another vodka, and tried hard not to care,
    But between his wretched sobs he accidently clicked on “Share.”
    Now complicit in her secret, he shook with growing fear,
    As he read her fox news headline, “Eighty year old granny wins stripper of the year.”

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    Replies
    1. So smoothly told, and what a wicked final line; the trundling brain especially imaginative too.

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    2. I love this. Expected some dark tale of revenge or debauched adultery shared to family and friends, but the punchline got a well-deserved laugh. =)

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    3. Hah! This is awesome. LOVE the last line! Totally unexpected. Nice usage of "trundle"! Quite clever. Glad you like the new digs!

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    4. So fantastic. The cadence lulled me into the feeling that he was simply overreacting to social media, but the last line gave proof to his reason for it. Both funny and awful. Love it.

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    5. very funny! love it! Clever way you led us toward that last line!!!

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  21. And so Seth and Nate continue. There was really no other choice...

    Sunitra

    I would normally have cleansed the boy’s perceived disgrace using sex. It masks the discomfort of my feeding. This one’s mind would snap if I tried that.

    Brow quirked, I studied him. I could trundle out the soothing massage I sometimes used for children and elders, but he wasn’t going to tolerate comforting. That smacked too much of “not my fault”.

    He could never punish himself enough…so I did it for him. I bound him to a wall and gave Hunger free reign, lancing guilt with bared teeth.

    He screamed. But he survived, and by doing so, remembered his strength.

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    Replies
    1. Dang, lady. You keep raising the bar. The POV switch really works to show Nate's dreadful catharsis.

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    2. yes, it does, it leads us further into the darkness, especially with that last line, What is there ahead for these unfortunates...

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  22. Phew, just about sneaking in to post before the doors shut this week. Great to see that so many people have ventured over to play at your place Colleen. Here's my humble offering:

    Collateral

    The squeaking wheel mocked him as the haycart trundled past. An accusatory sound taunting him as the sky wept.

    "Murderer," it chimed, ploughing through the mud.
    "Imbecile"
    "Traitor"
    "Disgrace"

    These words and more carried to his ears as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

    Limbs drapped over the cart side, bloodied and ragged, hands missing fingers, legs missing feet. Vacant stares of the dead met him a dozen times over, boys ripped from the bosom of life to serve their country.

    As Lance Corporal he would be decorated for his strategic expertise, these young soldiers the collateral for his errors.






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    1. Sometimes, the horror of the real world is so much worse than that of nightmares and monsters. You've captured the despair of a "good plan" during wartime. There is always a cost.

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    2. reminiscent of the stories of AJ, bringing real life into the fantasy horror we usually see. Very good use of the key words, Phil, good one, very dark, very nasty.

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  23. Actually Phil, I'm not closing the gates 'til 11:30 PM EST tonight. There's still a bit of time for anyone who wants to post!

    I'm up to my ears in packing and trying to move as much as I can before the storm hits. They're calling it NEMO. LOL. I'll be back to comment some more and such in a bit.

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  24. Death or Glory

    I thought I was a disgrace to my unit.

    We may not have been Royal anymore, but we were still Lancers; serving our sector, keeping tradition alive.

    "A cakewalk: backwater rebellion like this," Sergeant Townend sniggered over his commlink as the enemy trundled up in primitive chariots, their beaded Seers' robes billowing in the breeze.

    And then his mech exploded.

    They got inside our minds and turned our killing instinct inwards; on each other. Eleven of us got out; immune, but fear overrode fervency.

    Our newly-merged battalion is mentally prepared for their mind-tricks; this time, we shall have our glory...

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  25. OK, it's time for me to close the gates on the first ever Prediction challenge here in the new digs. As posted, I will ponder my decision (Lord help me, this is going to be HARD!) and will post winners and new words by 3:00 PM EST tomorrow, Feb 8.

    On that note...my area is expecting a MAJOR snow storm, starting tomorrow and continuing for much of the weekend.. Our electric companies are advising us to be prepared for long term outages caused by expected sustained wind gusts of up to 70mph.. Should the worst come to pass, and I am unable to do my bit in time tomorrow, I will make arrangements with RR to get the winners and words posted.

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