Friday 6 November 2015

November Rain


A very quiet celebration of Guy Fawkes here in Teesside last night, thanks to the wetness of the weather, and similarly here, made quieter by Antonia’s unprecedented but understandable absence, she being such a stalwart of Prediction. But less than it might have been with the welcome return of Zoe and Rosy’s post which I hope will be the first of many.  And while I know commenting on others, especially for those who are new, can seem even more daunting than writing the prompt itself, the acknowledgement that others have read your writing IS what makes the Prediction community such an enjoyable place to be part of, so please do overcome your unnecessary fears.  
Serials, both the reading and writing, may be daunting, and I’m not alone in hoping Bill continues with his, but it is Kai’s fifteenth episode which wins my vote this week.

Words for the coming week are: clue, fudge, inert

Entries by midnight Thursday November 12th, new words and winners posted on Friday 13th

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. Many congratulations to Kai for his amazing continuation. What a worthy winner! I also look forward to the speedy return of our surly Cap'n.

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    1. Wow, thanks. I really enjoy writing these short pieces and I'm glad you're all excited to see what each week will bring. :)

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  2. Cripplegate Junction/Part 20-Tea Time
    (100 Words)

    "Where are you taking me?" asked Clive Bailey as he was loaded onto the porter's trolley like an inert sack of dry goods.

    "My dear fellow" said the Station Master, securing the straps around Clive's wrists and ankles. "Do not pretend to be clueless. You have known your ultimate destination since you exited the train."

    With a wary eye on the door for the reappearance of Miss Constance, Alice tiptoed from her corner. She patted Clive's limp hand.

    "Don't worry," she comforted. Her eyes brightened with fond remembrance. "Be good and they'll give you Marzipan Fudge and Tizer for tea."


    ---------------------------------------------------------
    To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale please visit: http://www.novareinna.com/cripplegate.html
    A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
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    1. Oh someone remembering Tizer! how good that is to see! Good instalment, Patricia, taking the story closer to some kind of climatic eruption, methinks. Rather like the fireworks, a certain stillness and then it all bursts out...

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    2. There's an innocence to this, a clean-cut Englishness (at least that' how it seems to me) which is truly delightful, and so steadily and confidently evoked.

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    3. Yes, I agree with Sandra. I don't just see innocence, but a certain calmness in what is portrayed on the outside, while what is going on inside of Clive's mind is surely anything but calm.

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    4. It definitely feels like everyone is quite chipper even with the bondage and dubious coming adventure for Clive, haha. Love this series. :)

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  3. apologies. I could not face writing this week, the huge (couldn't count how many people came, but they were crammed at the back and all down the aisle) funeral and massive wake took everything out of me. Then I came down with - and still have- the cold given me by Terry's sister, who hung on to me all the way to the crematorium and all through the service...

    We shut the shop for two days, I needed that second day just to wind right down. Beginning to pick up the pieces again, to get the shop ticking over, to think about offering my tarot readings to make some extra money (enrolled with 2 sites now) and anxious to get back to life, albeit one with a huge hole in it. So many dreams and plans we had, all gone and that's a sorrow in itself, along with losing both his cats, taken to the Cats Protection League for rehousing, cats I knew from being kittens through to mature 6 year old beauties who seemed to love me as much as I loved them. Losing them as well as Terry almost knocked me over completely.

    So, apologies again. I will call on the Captain and see if we can write another instalment this weekend. I am writing again, I have a series of Conversations planned for a site called Holistic Dreamz (a charity) to promote my channelled books, which should help me a lot in the months ahead. This is all preparatory work right now, laying foundations. Tough but needs to be done. Someone has to earn the money around here!!!!!

    Thanks for missing me. Let's see what I can do.

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    1. Truly, Antonia, no apologies necessary - I'm sure I speak for us all when I say we were thinking of you and sending what support we were able to. The sun has just this minute come out here, illuminating one of the vivid-leaved sycamores across the road, and I can do no more than wish the same moments of lightness, amidst inevitablet greyness, for you..

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    2. As Sandra put it so lyrically, no apologies necessary for taking some time to recoup and stitch back together the pieces of your life. Just know that you were sorely missed and your return will be celebrated. I'm so sorry for the additional loss of the cats. As a huge animal lover I know what a blow that must have been. Rest assured that Terry is watching over both of them very carefully and will not allow them to go to anything but the best and most loving of homes.

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    3. thank you so much. I need the deadlines, the pressure in a way, to bring me back to what passes for life. I left home at 9 AM for 21 years, can't break the habit, body says, enough reading, let's go! at 5 to 9 so I can leave at 9.I used to go to Terry's, feed cats, make coffee, get him up and doing, all before going to the shop. I am utilising the 'additional' time to do things like get the shop floor vacuumed without customers around, for a start. It works. I also find Shaun coming in early, as if we're compelled to get going. Not a bad thing. The shop showed a profit this week despite being closed for 2 days. Something's working, something's right. Now to get me right too. The help, comfort and support of friends like all of you is amazing, it makes a huge difference. Thank you.

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    4. So sorry to hear about Terry! Wishing you all the best, Antonia.

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  4. so let's go, whilst fireworks blast off in all directions here in Ryde, the captain immersed himself in his story again, got a tad nostalgic even, checking back to when he began his journal, when he sailed out of Shipton. The town's been missing him these long years, and will be grateful (or will they?) when he returns. Eventually.

    So, Infinity 121.
    This night I read the opening page of this here journal, where I said #Blackbeard’s been dead too long, time he had fun again, says I. And I’m right sure I know how to do it, too.’ This here cap’n didn’t fudge it then, but he had no clue of what was coming. Like lying under a full menacing moon, sails inert, waiting on a good wind to take us on. Still, the calm be good for a while, the cook is bad with hygiene. One day he’ll be ill too. God send that it be soon, things might improve.

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    1. "lying under a full menacing moon, sails inert, waiting on a good wind to take us on" How much poetry and promise is in that line! I confess, I suffered withdrawal symptoms last week, and now I know why. Thank you Antonia.

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    2. sometimes when I write, I surprise myself, then I know someone's taken over and written it for me. (it happened with the words on the card for the funeral wreath...) and so it happened this time, I disremember (the Capn's word!) writing 'menacing moon', but it fits!

      Listening to medieval music right now as I wait on Anne of Cleves. Every other track was composed by my liege lord himself.

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    3. I like the circling back to the beginning of the journal. It makes you appreciate all the more what has happened since then.

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    4. This was so good. As Kai mentioned, the circling back makes for an insightful remembrance of times past. Lovely incorporation of the prompt words, but that comes as no surprise given the source.

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    5. Sandra called out my favorite line as well! Love 'menacing moon'.

      Thank you for the idea of listening to medieval music! Love how it sounds. :)

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  5. Change of focus [152]

    The perennial problem. How much to fudge his report so as to allow Vanessa to get away with murder. (Literally, and not for the first time!) Times like this, DI John Pettinger was gripped with an inertia of sufficient magnitude to threaten sanity.
    As so often happened, post-event, he was haunted by a handful of images which stood for the whole. The living recruit beneath a dying girl, Stephanie’s mother’s face, as she realised her daughter’s likely fate. And, still working, the dust-encrusted SOCOs still seeking clues twelve hours after the detonation.
    Vanessa, weeping in his arms, sober and self-condemning.

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    1. As always Pettinger finds himself in trouble, this time he's got a real fight on his hands!
      Good instalment.

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    2. I must say, I still haven't quite grasped all of what's going on in this serial (my fault for not having read from the beginning), but what I do enjoy is the writing itself. I adore the phrasing of some of your sentences and will try to engrave them in my mind to hone my own skill as a writer.

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    3. Yet another outstanding addition to an intriguing story. I love the "handful of images" reference, together with those images which although independent of themselves, blended to a seamless overall picture.

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    4. Loved the phrasing and imagery of the final line - 'sober and self-condemning'. Beautiful yet somber.

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  6. Departure a death [Threshold 88]

    Before dawn, his expression that of Tribute, as sculpted by Elisabeth Frink, he delivered me, inert from disbelief, to where we’d first met. Laid me down on the fudge-coloured stone before the entrance door.
    He’d tight-bound my shoulder with strips torn from the shirt he’d been wearing then. Despite washing, it still bore the several bloodstrains of the six he’d massacred that day, including the son of this house. Mine a brighter seventh.
    I’d no clue as to what he expected – or intended – to happen to me.
    No voice to ask him, or complain.
    Unblinking, watched him retreat into darkness.

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    1. I did recently start this story from the beginning, but I haven't read all your entries yet. However, it is nice to have read what is casually mentioned from before.

      I do wonder how this will go on, if at all.

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    2. I am always intrigued by the suspenseful atmosphere to this serial. It never ever transpires the way I anticipate or imagine, which is quite wonderful. I think I'm going to quit trying to second-guess what comes next and simply go with the impeccable flow.

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    3. Really loved the phrasing of the final line and the imagery it evoked, leaving an afterimage in my mind. Also love, love in the beginning "his expression...as sculpted by".

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    4. clever instalment, leading us further into the murky depths of this tale!

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  7. In The Cards
    (93 Words)

    Sarah contemplated her victory. She was absolutely convinced this time. There could be no other solution. She was certain of it. All the clues pointed in one direction and one direction only. After countless attempts, she would finally win the prize.

    "I am making an accusation," she announced. After a moment of triumphant inertia, she reached toward the center of the table and held aloft the envelope, basking in the anticipatory silence.

    "Mrs. White in the Ballroom with the Candlestick."

    She smirked at her companions and then peered at the cards.

    "Oh, fudge!"


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    1. As promised, not such a dark and disturbing path this week. LOL.

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    2. Been there, done that, Patricia, Felt the smirk turn to disappointment.

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    3. It doesn't all have to be dark and disturbing. Though in a way there is a murder involved, which fits into the overall dark theme of the Predictions.

      I enjoyed the humor in this and it's kind of made me want to play Cluedo again. :)

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    4. Fun, humorous piece. Excellent phrasing with "after a moment of triumphant inertia...basking in the anticipatory silence". Lovely wording!

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    5. oh good one, like the way the mood changes so quickly, we've all been there, for sure, you captured it well.

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  8. Back by popular demand...

    His Oldest Friend

    "Tony, you know I love you but you ain't got no clue about how life works. You think you're gonna spend the next thirty years taking pictures of cheating husbands and fudging expense reports?" Well, yeah, actually I did. But I thought maybe I'd do it with her.

    The rattle of glass in the slamming door told me I was wrong. I decided to visit a friend who didn't get so worked up about things. Maybe one that was completely inert. Guess I'm lucky Mr. Jack Daniels is always there for me.

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    1. And the magic continues. What more can I say?

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    2. I sometimes have a hard time trying to take of titles for my pieces, and I thought yours was perfect, tying in with the final line. :) Loved how you used the slamming door for her answer.

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    3. I know I commented in this yesterday, not sure where it went, but yes. Sigh of satisfaction at the whole gem-like quality of this.

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    4. tis a good one, with a perfect ending. I've tried to tell wannabe writers there are ways of saying something without saying it, they tend to spell everything out but here, as Zaiure says, it is said with the slamming door.

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  9. Monday

    “Hi, grumpy face,” Gwyn says.

    I continue my slide into the chair opposite her, my movements more akin to some wet, many-limbed sea cephalopod than a six foot plus, bearded behemoth. Appropriating her coffee, I settle myself into an inert lump.

    “Analin break up with you again?”

    My eyebrows jump. “Is it scrawled across my face in permanent marker? I may have called her by the wrong name.”

    She snickers, the glee radiating from her face with all the power of the sun. “You’re more fun than Clue! Perhaps if you stop fudging relationships...”

    “Thanks mom,” I say sarcastically.

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    1. Very clever piece this. I loved it. That description of the protagonist's movements was truly inspired, particularly in contrast to the later "inert lump." I adore the varying interpretations that always emerge from three supplied prompts.

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    2. Patricia is right about 'varying interpretations, but my enjoyment is more akin to addiction. That said, I could just as easy get addicted to Gwyn and son - loved how it was not obvious it was his mother to start.

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    3. excellent. Cleverly depicted and the the revelation it's Mom at the end. Makes the whole thing come together perfectly.

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  10. Battle Scars

    His skin was dark like pre-war fudge, a rich umber that darkened where tricorn scars crossed his cheeks. Startling sea-water blue eyes glanced up from the console to meet my gaze. I flushed, wishing there was a clue to his thoughts at that moment.

    “The ship appears inert,” he said, looking back at the glass display. “Battle scarred too. See the scorch marks?”

    I nod, leaning closer than necessary to study the images. “Think this is Ministry work?”

    His lips thin grimly. “If so, no survivors. Might have spaced the bodies.”

    Carnage or no, we must salvage.

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    1. Oooohhhhh. Dare we hope for a continuation of this one? It was brimming with intrigue and I loved that subtle "leaning closer than necessary." What a beautiful image is conjured by "pre-war fudge" and what an innovative use of the word. I would definitely love to know more.

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    2. Yes, well, Patricia has said it all. And what a wonderful conjunction of 'pre-war' and 'fudge'.

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    3. yes, I liked the 'leaning closer than necessary' too. Says so much in so few words. I'd like to know more...

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  11. The way to a man's heart... (or, Proof in the Pudding...)
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    When the inquisitors raided Ophélie's Patisserie after a tip-off, her last brownie batch was cooling and she’d closed shop.

    "Mam’zelle Jharlette?" the Head Inquisitor hailed the comely chef; his clueless subordinates nosed round the kitchen, sampling ingredients, getting underfoot.

    "Oui, Monsieur?" Ophélie batted her eyelashes coquettishly; his sour inertia advocated another approach. Luckily, the timer rang… she retrieved her creations, wafting them under their noses.

    "Ah, you must all try, non?"

    The dark square’s aroma promised heaven, yet delivered pleasurably fudgy Sin in one bite. The inquisitors slumped, eyes glazed.

    Joining placid, queuing townsfolk, down cellar steps into the Abyss.

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    1. Lush, evocative writing. Loved the dark humor and surprising ending. Ophélie is a delightful character, her lightness in contrast to her sinful brownies. :)

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    2. Beautiful nefarious actions undercut by a casual style. This seems olde worlde in many respects and yet so very fresh in execution. Nicely composed!

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    3. Yet another intriguing world evoked here, and so enticingly, as per the fudgy Sin.

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    4. Reminds me of Mrs. Lovett's meatpies. I like! :)

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    5. liked this a lot, had tremendous atmosphere, which is often difficult to create in the 100 word limit.

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  12. The Immortal 16

    I consider myself quite the smooth talker when it comes to the opposite sex, imagine my surprise when I became completely inert.

    Sandy’s held tilted a fraction to the right, eyebrows raised and lips forming a smile. The azure blue eyes penetrated my mind rendering me clueless as to what I should be doing.

    I came to my senses quick enough, I hope and tried to speak. My tongue wagged around in my mouth feeling like melted fudge, uttering sounds.

    Sandy laughed and spun around, walking away from me.

    I stayed put, dumbfounded. What just happened?

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    1. what did happen? be sure to tune in next week for the further adventures... tis good, Kai, very good.

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    2. Oh dear, how disconcerting. Hope for a complete recovery for next week.

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    3. A nice take on the customary "cat got your tongue" scenario by using "melted fudge" instead -- a much more preferable alternative. Seems like Sandy has had quite an effect on our protagonist. I wonder what he'll do next.....

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  13. SCIENTISTS FIND STRANGE MESSAGE ON MARS
    Today a group of scientists working on the Mars Observation Project uncovered an intriguing message on the Menacing Rock Formation, which was named last week for its discoverer. Words reading "Oh, fudge" have appeared on the east face in scrolling block capitals. We now go live to the Project's headquarters.
    That formation is something else.
    That it is. Here you can see our scientists on Mars taking samples of-Good God!
    Rumbling, static, chaos on the screens.
    These clues say the formation may be some kind of previously inert creature whose waking caused an avalanche!

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    1. Now this was extremely interesting and so very different from anything that has gone before this week. I like the way it was delivered in the form of a news report. That was very inventive. Nicely descriptive too.

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    2. 'Different', both in content and presentation, was my first thought too, along with 'How intriguing'. And demonstrates impressive trust in the reader to form their own images..

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