Friday 7 August 2015

More than seven miles to Babylon, and ...

Seven entries this week to choose from and every one a winner for entertainment and skill in using the prompt words. But by the merest whisper of his crepuscular cat, I’m declaring Michael Fletcher this week’s overall winner, as much for the smile it gave me as his skill in putting so much into so few words.
(Incidentally, Jennifer Johnston’s ‘How Many Miles to Babylon?’ turned out to be a superbly written, poignant, 156 page gem of a novel.)

Next week’s words are:  best, distance, pearl

Entries by midnight Thursday 13th August, new words and winners posted on Friday 14th

Usual rules: 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.

63 comments:

  1. Firstly congratulations to Michael for a wonderfully whimsical entry.
    Secondly, on a sadder note; some of you may remember my Hawk trilogy at the flea market where where I quoted a Greek song called 'Son of the Hawk'. Unfortunately the lyricist, Kostas Virvos, died last night at the age of 87 leaving behind him over 2500 masterpieces. Life's funny like that sometimes.

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  2. STATUTE OF REPOSE
    She wore a little black dress and pumps, a drop pearl necklace and no other jewelry. Make-up was unnecessary, her gaze intense, complexion to die for. Several had. Always left well off, in each of her widowhoods she rose in status.
    Tuxedoed on the balcony with a vodka stinger in one hand, gesturing with the other, talking to his soon to be ex-girlfriend and watching her conversing in the distance, he caught her eye. He reckoned tonight presented the best opportunity to take his shot. He might die trying, probably would, but he continued priming himself for the challenge.

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    1. Oh! Contented sigh at this Michael - SO rich and novel-sized, and lovely writing, as ever.

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    2. 100 words is very challenging. I can feel the prose tightening, and for me that's a GOOD thing. I do like this venue.

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    3. Excellent entry. So much detail and plot in so few words.

      I know what you mean about the 100 words. It is challenging, but so worth it. It really helps you distinguish what's important and what's not.

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    4. Nicely formed piece with much to entice the reader. Forgive me if a crit comment is frowned upon, but here goes: Slight PoV confusion between the two paras (switching around so the first was embedded in the second imho would have helped)and this "Always left well off" jarred slightly.

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    5. loved this, Michael, excellent writing and use of the prompts. The challenge helps so much to refine the writing. The times I get 8 page stories in for my anthologies which could come down to 4 pages or less, no problem!

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    6. Great monster you've created there.

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  3. Thumbs down? [Threshold 76]

    Ravenscar’s sideways slump steered the horse away from the near-invisible settlement; soft ground muffling hooves.
    Contorting, I wriggled from beneath him best I could. Dismounted. Trying to lay his torso along the horse’s back, I felt stickiness, heard muffled groans, unable, in the dark, to see where he’d been hit.
    I’d earlier noted trees, trusted the distance not so far he’d bleed to death before I could strike a light, find and staunch his wounds.
    Wind-blown flicker illuminated pearls of sweat across his face.
    Grimacing, eyes half closed, ‘Set me down, Go well, my... Christ!... don’t even know your name.’

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    1. I really liked your use of "pearl" in this. I hadn't even thought of that. Good entry. I still have to catch up on the rest.

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    2. Lovely feel and description, could see it all. Niggles: The first line you describe the horse then wriggling from beneath him? The next line makes it clear but it would be clearer if placed earlier. "I’d earlier noted trees" sounded too academic for a supposed desperate situation. Last line of dialogue left me confused...who is speaking? I'm guessing the injured man.

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    3. Typical Ravenscar problems arising here, now what? as usual, killer last line!

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    4. Love that last line. This has a nice dark gothic feel to it, and then it almost sounds modern with the forgetting of the horse's name. Ravenscar, on the other hand, is a wonderfully evocative name.

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    5. Whoops - I can see I need to make things clearer! It is the narrator's name Ravenscar doesn't know - and is intended to be quite the dramatic moment considering what they've gone through together for the past 76 episodes!

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  4. Congratulations Micheal! I really enjoyed your piece. It had a strong wonderland vibe to it. Well done.

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  5. The Immortal 3

    In my studio apartment, I looked at my back in the mirror. Not even a scar. Death really does the best work. Cosmetic surgeons have nothing on him.

    I put on a freshly pressed shirt, grabbed my leather jacket and was out the door. The distance to the club wasn’t too far. The girls were waiting for me when I arrived.

    The blondes were smoking hot. Dresses short and slutty. Just the way I liked it. One of them wore a pearl earring. If all went well, she’d be wearing nothing but that earring at the end of the night.

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    1. Your writing delivers a lot of impact in a way which appears simple but is very hard to do successfully - well done.

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    2. Punchy piece, the sharp staccato sentences working well. However, I've no idea what the story is about? I'm guessing he's an immortal, sure, but what happened? Niggles: The last line was a tad cliche and jarred.

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    3. perfect use of prompts, leading to the next instalment with no problem at all. Good sharp sentences, wish more people did that!

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    4. Spare writing indeed. Another monster.

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    5. This is a vampire, no? But not in search of the "life force," something rather more ephemeral. Smoking hot girls, indeed. I'd read more of this even having come late to the party.

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  6. A change of focus [139]

    Conscience best ignored, Pettinger arose again from his possibly half-sister Vladlina’s bed; having restored her amour propre. Ruefully regarding the single pearl of sperm atop his cock, he reassured himself the youth and energy of that of the recently-bedded Royal would likely be more potent, resulting in a child of better lineage than his Petzincek ancestry.
    But he still needed to discover – despite difficulties of long-distance detection – why Vladlina believed Raptor still alive; how Cherriman – descendant of the Scheraskade family, long-term rivals to his own – had gained control of Teodor and, in so doing, likely begun to rule Khakbethia.

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    1. I'm guessing this is a snippet of a much longer piece? Love the writing and descriptions but not sure it works as a stand alone piece, or what the story is about...

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    2. oh oh, things are turning in all directions here, anything could happen and with Pettinger, it probably will!
      Love your use of the prompts.

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    3. There are several odd-sounding almost East-European names that give this a cherry pop feel rather than a deep red wine. But that's fine, as it is right in line with the mood of the day. I wish I had the time to read the pieces that led up to this.

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  7. Passport to Detroit Rock City

    Rolling into Detroit through Canada would have cut major distance off the trip. But passports are hard to come by when all your other ID is fake. The Motor City is no longer a pearl on America’s map, but there’s something perversely charming about the urban sprawl and decay, if you like that sort of thing. And I do. There are plenty of places for bad things to hide in plain sight and The Brightest Lamp might have been among the best of them.

    I parked across the street, under a broken light, smacked Seth’s shoulder, and pointed.

    “What now?”

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    1. "What now?" indeed - I wait with bated breath to hear Seth's response to this tight invitation.

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    2. Nice writing with a good voice shining through. Again I feel this is a snippet of a longer piece and it doesn't work for me as a stand alone 100 word flash as I have no idea what The Brightest Light is.

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    3. me too, waiting with bated breath to hear Seth's response! Beautifully set up, Colleen.

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    4. Yes, what now? Good hook into...what? Great momentum

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    5. This reminds me of several rock-tinged novels I read a while back, but of course it's different and new. One thing, though, I heard light twice close together, but on checking saw Brightest Lamp and street light, but I think Peter also heard light twice as per his comment. It's just a distracted mind thing I guess.
      I do like the atmosphere a lot.

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  8. Party on 4th Street

    Even from a distance, I could see the warding on the shop – intricate and nasty. “Either they’re expecting us, or they’re paranoid as hell.”

    “Probably both.” Nate got out and went to the trunk.

    I joined him, watching as the cover lifted like an oyster revealing a pearl, one made of a hundred different death devices. His collection is the best I’ve ever seen.

    “Salt? Silver? Herbs?” He sifted through pouches and vials.

    “Bullets.” I grabbed a sawed off shotgun. “For a start.”

    “And spells.” It damn near killed him to admit we needed my magic.

    I suppressed my smile.

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    1. And phew! - not too long to wait! Like Colleen's, this a tight, violence-intimating piece, and Seth's "Bullets" the perfect riposte..

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    2. Good dark atmosphere of intimidation and violence. I'm not sure what 'warding' means. Vampire genre?

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    3. how to write without dialogue tags and keep the action turning... but need more, much more! where next???

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    4. Hi Peter,
      Colleen and I have been writing this serial for years now. These are episodes, not complete shorts. We don't expect to win the competition with these, but rather use the prompts to improve and tighten our work and bring enjoyment to those who've followed the story from the start. The whole series is available at http://pushcomestoshove.blogspot.com/

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    5. An oyster, or a pearl, made of a hundred different death devices? I can't quite get my mind around that image, but I sure like the admitting of the need for magic. Laid on the line, that's cool.

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  9. The best pearls on the market come form Kalymnos. But they come at a price. Brave young men would hold onto huge boulders as they dived into the sea. The weight would carry them to the bottom, a distance of sometimes thirty meters. Nikos was the best of all pearlfishers. His sister cried every time he went out dreading that he wouldn't return. After the last boat returned that night she walked the whole distance of the shore to the rocks right at the end. She saw a shadow smoking a cigarette.
    Her tears stopped for ever there and then.

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    1. Oh! Seemingly straightforward, but ends in the dark, with questions - exquisitely done. (And I'm very relieved to see you here!)

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    2. Good strong writing, liked this piece except for the ending. That last line just confuses me. Why forever there and then? But then I'm a tad thick.

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    3. clever piece of writing, bringing the reality of pearl diving home to us. Liked it.

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    4. I may be officially off-line. Still manage to sneak on for a bit of prediction, though, Sandra. ;)

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    5. I guess because I wanted to read dove instead of dived (maybe my error), I noted it read the boulders dived rather than the brave young men. Then, I saw "he went out dreading" and after that I couldn't reckon the shadow smoking. The images would really solidify if the descriptors were closer to what they modify, but if you're writing fast, I see how that can happen. I frequently find it in my own writing.

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  10. Remembering That Feeling

    Oh, they think they can’t be seen.

    Pressed against the sea wall beneath the pier, I watch as she pulls him closer; painted fingernails grasping his hair, eyes shut and mouth open.

    Her skirt rides higher and a flash of skin as pale as a lost pearl transfixes me.

    In a creaking deckchair, the sun drying my skin, my joints aching, I drag my gaze away and reach for my gun. I give them a little time and return my stare towards the distance of an empty horizon.

    And try my best to remember that feeling.

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    1. Ow - painful indeed, deeply so, and very well-constructed. Welcome Peter, thank you for this superb offering.

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    2. Ta Sandra, nice place to find. I've made slight critical comments on entries which I hope is ok, if not I shall refrain henceforth and keep to pleasantries. I notice the max word limit of 100 is not too strictly adhered to? I'd suggest a mild punishment, something like being shot a dawn, for future transgressors...

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    3. Peter, I've no problem with critique, so long as it is constructive. Have to say I've never checked the word count for other entries, but am aware that Word is not always reliable. I tend to expect folk will self-police, since it's part of the challenge.
      You are correct in assuming several of us have been drawn into writing longer pieces and I am aware that my episodes don't always stand alone: references are made to long-running characters without explanation, although I do try to include an occasional summary of who's who and what happened. A small part of the enjoyment here is the development of them in response to each week's words.
      Back stories can be found on blogs Push comes to shove and lines of communication but in my case catch would be a bit of a marathon!
      Hope you stay around to enjoy.

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    4. Ok I understand better. I thought this was a strict flash challenge but clearly its evolved into story development rather than stand alone flash pieces, so my comments are invalid. A good motivational idea and obviously working well for all of you. Cheers!

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    5. The serialisers are over-represented this week; it's certainly not compulsory! Have a look at the posts for 11th or 16th June - a lot more stand-alones there.

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    6. Nice piece, Peter, bringing a good atmosphere of brooding menace with it somehow.

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    7. It seems as if he's lost some of his anger during the "creaking deckchair" moment, and I'm thinking that's a difficult thing to accomplish - a good solid reflective delay in three brief sentences.
      Well done.

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  11. racing against time, out tomorrow evening, want to get this in before the deadline!
    Will be back to comment... soon!
    109.
    I kept my distance when the grog heavy crew members tipped down the open hatch – now how did happen? And was pleased when the best sailors kept away and ignored the sounds. A pearl grey sky this day; that forebodes rough seas if not rough winds. I can live without that damn wind and yet the sails be beckoning it to come and fill them so we can move on. Not that it makes much difference to that Thing, it be there come whatever. All I need now is some peace, ease of mind, be that too much to ask?

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    1. Oh, poor Captain, how heavy and grey he sounds, while remaining committed to his dreadful task..

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    2. The last half of this has the tone of the last piece, but it seems lighter in the opening. You did say "racing against time" so that might account. Maybe I expected a "were" where I found a was. I don't know. Still following, though.

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  12. Full of questions this, draws the reader (me) in. I'm guessing whale or monster hunting? Niggles: "grog heavy crew members' is a little clumsy and jarred.

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  13. Peter, this is instalment 109 of the sea journeys of the good ship Infinity, captained by no less a person than Captain Edward Teach, AKA Blackbeard, who has managed to attract the unwanted attentions of a Creature that demands human sacrifice. Hence, this time he got the crew grog heavy and let them fall down the hatch... this is all told via the Cap'n's journal, which he writes every week via me.

    Serials, yes., My first serial here, about Skullface, very quickly grew out of the confines of the weekly instalment, in 4 months I had a full length novel (published by Horrified Press.) It's fun. It works!

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  14. Guinness Book of Records

    Pearl always wanted fame,
    For people to remember her name.
    So she decided that it would be good
    To eat as much of herself as she could.

    She roasted her feet with red onions
    Declaring the best part her bunions.
    Her legs, fried with her ears and her nose
    We're fattier than she would suppose.

    She minced her arms into her skin
    "with this haggis inside me I'll win
    Renown for going the distance,
    With jellied eyes as my piece de resistance."

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    1. OMG! It's gross and funny at the same time. I have been known to commit doggerel and be pleased with myself, but when someone else does it, I love it because I can laugh without feeling guilty. Still, I wonder after Pearl has gone the distance, what's left of her to celebrate?

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    2. Oh Mashie! Once again, I'm astounded at the range of your voices and your imagination.

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  15. 'Oysters are an aphrodisiac, and sometimes there are pearls within.'

    Fabia parted her knees so that the Inquisitor's eyes were drawn into the shadow there.

    'I - I - asked what you were doing in the restaurant, not what you were eating. You'd best answer my question.'

    'They are not unlike Venus Fly Traps, dripping with nectar, sticky -'

    She licked her finger and let it drop the short distance to between her legs. The Inquisitor' was panting uncontrollably.

    She pulled out a pistol. '- and you are the fly.'

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    1. A real gotcha! This one gets my vote. Ba-boom!

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    2. And what an efficiently delivered, well-aimed kick!

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