Sunday 1 February 2015

Winners and Words ! Week ending Friday, January 30, 2015

Good afternoon!
I'm going to get right to it, as my connection is still a bit wonky and has made me late.

Our winner this week is Antonia Woodville with Infinity 85: This installment is smooth as silk and delicious as the finest chocolate!  Brilliant use of the prompts.  A sheer joy to read.  Thank you!

Also winning this week is Sandra Davies with Rallying [Threshold 52]:  Sandra, I honestly had a difficult time deciding which of your installments this week to choose.  Both were grand, but I just loved how you used the prompts in this.  I'm dying to find out what happens next.  Thank you!

And now on to the "other" good part!  The Tome has provided new words!

Baton
Cry
Frost

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

Feel free to post links to your stories on Twitter or Facebook or whichever social media best pleases you and, if you like, remind your friends that we are open to new and returning writers.

You have until Friday, February 6th.  Winners and words on Saturday, February 7th.

The Gates are Open!

41 comments:

  1. Thanks Colleen - have to say my use of harp was the sort of thing this challenge is so good for - screwing out an entirely new use for an otherwise difficult-to-place word. Thank you for your vote, and mega congratulations to Antonia who has to be the queen of well-used prompts.

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  2. Well deserved congratulations to both Antonia and Sandra. Marvelous entries and more than worthy of the win!

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  3. Congratulations Antonia and Sandra, hope to do some catch up and also partake in this weeks challenge, some very usable words lol.

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  4. thank you!!!!! Congratulations, Sandra, when I read your entries I thought, no way am I going to be in with a chance this week!
    Super words to play with, I'll get the Captain onto this. He had an inch of snow in Shipton this morning and is panicking, he doesn't like the stuff any more than I do...

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  5. Flattery and lies [Threshold 53]

    Enter with a cry of triumph the Cider-maker’s father, frosting of beard more sign of age than wisdom, knowingness of eyes his eavesdropping.
    His desire a differently-slanted baton to his son’s; derision at son’s limpness, in full view of my insufficiently-wrapped charms, reason enough for son to desire escape.

    Son’s slyness being but a dilution of his father’s, my best chance of doing likewise lay with son.
    Addressing father: ‘Let me go to Ravenscar. Let me take your son. He more likely to win ransom than a man Ravenscar might see as rival.’
    Flattery and lies, but I was desperate.

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    Replies
    1. Great scene! That father and son would be comparing "limp-nesses" is just twisted.

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    2. oh that was good, clever use of the prompts and carrying the story on to that great last line that leaves me wanting more.

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    3. She's fast on her feet, this one, using the measure of father and son against each other as a means of escape. But what a terrible life she's having! I almost feel bad by how entertaining I find it.

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  6. A change of focus [116]

    John Pettinger, sat on the edge of the bed, thrust fingers through his hair and groaned.
    How the hell had it come to this?
    Through the open door, he could see Vanessa, toothbrush as baton, conducting herself in an impassioned and off-key version of “Cry me a river”.
    These days he avoided coming home with her but after too many cocktails in frost-rimed glasses, and her dropping like a sack of spuds once the fresh air hit her, he’d had no choice.
    Any minute now she’d switch to ‘Do you wanna fuck me?’
    And he’d be straight out the door.

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    Replies
    1. Loving this character. Good mix if cool and world-weary.

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    2. Pettinger is still being Pettinger, I see... love that last line!

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    3. I like the dichotomy between what he's done and what he's willing to do. It almost seems like he's learning his lessons - all the hard way, of course.

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  7. Crunch

    Ella wiped her eyes. They mustn't see her cry.

    She put her phone away. It still said, "We're over."

    "Come on, Ella. It's time!" Charles led the band onto the field, she grabbed her baton and followed.

    October frost crunched underfoot as Ella twirled behind Stacy. Stacy was the unspoken reason Zack had chosen today to text.

    She tossed and swung, her movements a thousand hours effortless.

    "Ouch! Jesus Ella!"

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    Replies
    1. I can picture this so vividly! Love "a thousand hours effortless"

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    2. very visual, this piece, so much being said in a few words. Yes, a thousand hours effortless is classic understatement.

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    3. I have a feeling Stacy is lucky that "accidental" strike wasn't more deadly. Really like the emotion and movement in this.

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  8. Fiddle-Dee-Dee
    (By: Foxxglove)
    (92 Words)

    ----------------------------------

    Lizzie had likened Melanie's last gasp to a fragile tendril vaporizing slowly into the frosty air.

    First Chair had always belonged to Lizzie by right and she had even cried a little in private when finally elevated to that prestigious seat. It had been so long in coming. Melanie had never been talented enough for the premier position anyway in Lizzie's humble opinion. It was a no-brainer really, much like Melanie's current condition.

    Bow poised, Lizzie waited for the Maestro's opening sweep of his baton and inwardly delighted at her witty comparison.

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    Replies
    1. Sweetly,subtly wicked, if you can have such a thing, and what an opening image!

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    2. yes, you can have such a thing, and this is it!
      Images are great here, this seems to be a visual week.

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    3. How very wicked! I like that she cried over the promotion rather than the body.

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  9. Infinity 86.
    I do be wondering if First Mate knows sommat. He be from Baton Rouge, for his sins, he knows things. Tis possible he heard a cry, or senses sommat wrong on board the Infinity. I do declare I have felt the frost of his disapproval at times but he baint cap’n and he won’t be cap’n until I disappear into the afterlife. For now, Infinity sails on to the New World and to hell with all who say the sea baint for pirates. Damn sure they are, why else be I here with my crew and my ship and… it?

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    Replies
    1. Oh I'm so glad you managed Baton Rouge - I couldn't find a way to squeeze it in - and this is so smooth and typical of the Captain.

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    2. Oh, off to the New World! I like that the First Mate might be onto our Captain and have some secrets of his own to reveal.

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    3. Nicely played moment of introspection!

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  10. Hello again. Long time no play. I have no idea why I've written this the way I have but here it is...

    Untitled

    "What was that?"

    "I didn't hear anything."

    Silence.

    "There, did you hear it?"

    "What am I supposed to be hearing?"

    "A cry of some kind, a whimp... there, again."

    Silence.

    Then footsteps.

    "Who's there?"

    Powerful arms.

    Crushing.

    Cracking of bones.

    Running.

    Heavy breaths.

    Frost on the grass crunching under boots.

    Powerful arms again.

    Crushing.

    A baton wasn't going to save PC Simpson.

    Cracking of bones.

    No more running.

    Hungry jaws.

    ~End~

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    Replies
    1. Good to see you here David and this I thoroughly approve of.

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    2. Thanks, Sandra. A last minute rush job. I will try harder to pop over every week.

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    3. The short lines ramp up the tension. I found myself filling in the surrounding details and expect each of us will have a different scene and thoughts on what the murderous creature was. Nicely done.

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    4. Damn fine stuff, Mr. Barber. Nice to read your stuff again!

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    5. Thanks, guys. I will try harder to take part more often - starting with the new words.

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  11. Gates will remain open overnight, for both internet connection and last minute storytelling. Post 'em if you got 'em, folks.

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  12. Wheel of Fortune.
    Seth blinked twice and shot me a look that could’ve frosted the windows.

    “How…does…she…know?”

    “I don’t know, it was weird. She was reading tarot cards. Turned over, what was it? The six of batons. Then she spouted some poetry. Insecurity brings the storm. Cry in fear…HE is awoken.”

    I sighed before continuing.

    “Then she screamed, said it was your father, and passed out. Took her two bloody hours to come around . I don’t know, man, but add it to the list of freaky shit we gotta deal with.”

    Like we'd summoned doom, the car swerved, spun out, struck, died.

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    Replies
    1. I love how every episode serves to fix Nate more strongly in my mind. So superb the first line that it took me three reads to remember it was a prompt. Well done.

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  13. Spinning Out

    The car whipped around like a baton wielded by a meth-fueled majorette. Scenery blurred into dizzying swaths of white and gray. I cast fast and dirty, knowing even if I could get the spell off, it wouldn’t be enough.

    Nate screamed his rage as the wheel tore out of his hands. His head bounced off the window, but he still scrabbled to regain control.

    Spitting magic, trusting words and order to ritual memory, body jumbled and tossed, my spell ended with a cry as we slammed into a snowbank.

    The interior was speckled with frost and blood. Nate wasn’t moving.

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    Replies
    1. Seth's panic vividly portrayed in this - love the "meth-fueled majorette" - and, obviously, can't wait for the next episode.

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    2. Just ... wow. Well that and - what next? You can't leave us hanging like this!

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  14. Hmm I think I'm late but in the interests of just getting back to writing I'll post my efforts, some great stories by the way to all entries thus far, Sandra as always providing some amazing efforts, you have a knack lol

    Untitled

    Although a standard happening in this cruel world I sat and cried for the first time in what seemed like days; In the midst of the first silence I had experienced in such time my body and mind deceived my anger and I fell to the floor, so very tired, hands propelled to my face.
    This wasn’t the world I was born into, childhood memories fade more with each day as the undead nightmare continues to plague.
    The blood on my baton turns to frost quickly in this chill air, but their blood was cold to begin with I guess.

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    Replies
    1. This is rich with despair and yet determination. I especially liked memories fading in the face of continuous threat.

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    2. An unsettling piece of scene-setting and the blood turning to frost something I don't think I've ever contemplated before. Am wondering if there's more to come?
      Thanks Rob.

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  15. And that, my loves, is that. Gates are closed on this contest. As Colleen is a bit under the weather, I'll be doing winners and words. Should have them up in a trice.

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