Friday 26 February 2016

Leap of imagination

As Patricia commented, ‘hare’ is a word which carries much potential; one of the criteria I aim to use when seeking words. Crossword clues are a useful source, and the titles visible on spines of books and CDs shelved on the wall right before my eyes often furnish a word or two. Wherever they come from, I’ve no more knowledge of next week’s words when I write this week’s pieces than you have.
As ever the pieces posted have been impactful and a joy to read, but this week reference to real-life horrors set the standard for selecting winners, and William’s ‘Hiding from the world’ and Patricia’s ‘The  Final Solution’ take joint first.

Words for the coming week are:  stick, opportunity, credulous

Entries by midnight Thursday 3rd March new words and winners posted on Friday 4th

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.

68 comments:

  1. many congratulations William and Patricia. Chilling thoughts in chilling perfect writing.
    The Captain's intrigued with the words, see if we can send them winging your way earlier this coming week...

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  2. Wow thank you so much, a great start to my birthday weekend. I'm totally honoured to be sharing the podium with Patricia, her piece "The Final Solution" was so moving. I'm really enjoying reading and being pat of such a talented group of writers.

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    1. that should have read **part**
      Alas I'm not quite to grips with my Mac yet.

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    2. Thank you for those congratulations, William, and right back atcha. The honour is all mine. Oh, and have a truly amazing birthday weekend.

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  3. Congratulations :D
    Another brief encounter from me:

    Cold Reading
    ------------

    A stickler for ambience, Ardesco’s flowery scene-setting for his current employer enthrals several prying passers-by from the casino foyer.

    The credulity of the audience fuels his observational talents, eye drawn to the incongruity of the tattooed Suit touching an earpiece. Merc? Alien??

    A flourish: "...that man!"

    Naturally, his opportunistic subordinate utilizes performance and dénouement, steering Security within striking distance; the suspect bolts into their waiting grasp.

    “Another case solv-”

    The corpse groans, rising, shooting a withering glare at the detective; it fingers a retreating dear with a cup of quarters and carved, knobbly walking-aid.

    "Foolsssss, ssshe's getting away!"

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    1. Brief Zoe, yes, but hugely intriguing.

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    2. oh totally intriguing, just what's going on here?

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    3. A lot going on here, intriguing as said before and curious where this goes next.

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    4. And mystery abounds. This was fascinating and intricate and thoroughly absorbing.

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  4. Ye gods, I'm having a hell of a time coming up with anything this week...!!! And the words aren't difficult, just not sparking any inspiration. I think I'm going to just let it all stew on the back burner for a day or two.

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    1. Sometimes it's like that, isn't it? I've every faith in you.

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    2. Must admit although I had a general idea when I saw the prompts this week, it cam out nowhere near my initial intention.

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  5. Change of focus [168]

    Escalated to triple murder and likely more to come, John Pettinger, given opportunity to brief his superior, posited Moth’s theory of an alphabetical cull.
    It received short shrift. ‘Not usually that credulous, John! Best stick to facts, eh?’
    Truculent. ‘Still worth passing the word to working girls with names beginning with B, sir. And probably E and F. Provide protection.’
    Possibly as punishment for his persistence, ‘You lead the team investigating Dolly’s murder. Get spunk samples from the five punters Abel Ackroyd mentioned.’
    Interrupted by a knock at the door.
    ‘Sir. Another one.’
    ‘Name?’
    Beverly Evans.’
    Pettinger unable to gloat.

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    1. ooh,Pettinger will be fuming at his inability to show his glee!

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    2. I really shouldn't read these over breakfast, | nearly choked on my Bran Flakes, at petting perceived punishment. A brilliantly structured piece using one of my favourite underused words "Truculent"

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    3. **Pettinger** for some reason my Mac insists on correcting my comments and oft causes me embarrassment.

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    4. And the plot, as they say, thickens. Rather like delicious Devonshire clotted cream. What perfect gems these installments prove to be.

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  6. Beware Of The Dog

    He will give you no opportunity to leave now. Not even for a treat, as incredulous as that seems. I see there are still some in the bag but the bribe doesn't work in reverse. He's a stickler when it comes to duty.

    No, he wouldn't obey my commands. I'm not his master, only his warden. Anyway, rules are rules. You should have taken better notice of the warning posted on the gate.

    "Beware of the Dog?" Well, that goes without saying. I was actually referring to the other sign. The one reading, "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here."


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    1. Oh superb! And such invisible prompts - hard to believe you were struggling, Patricia, this is very smoothly executed.

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    2. clever ending, loved it. Didn't see that coming! Good one.

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    3. You put the super in superlative with this piece. Love the matter of fact nature of the narration which adds to the foreboding tone.

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  7. A question of breeding [Threshold 103]

    Big as bears, brains simple as bean-bags, O’Bedrun’s sons, awed by Ravenscar’s ebony massiveness, were credulous enough to believe his supine idleness a measure of kingly status, thereby forfeiting advantages of number and surprise, and losing an opportunity to overwhelm us.

    O’Bedrun himself arrived, silent and watching for longer than we knew from atop a horse which suggested he more carefully chose brood mares than a wife. With the same ease as he descended the steep bank he outlined his terms for Ravenscar’s safe sojourn.
    I was nothing loth.
    Burk’s father proved an unexpected stickler for morality.
    Ravenscar refused outright.

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    1. love the descriptions, brains simple as bean-bags. Great instalment.

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    2. Fantastic Instalment. You got me at the first sentence, but the second paragraph opening is sublime.

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    3. The smooth pace of this was outstanding. Frankly, I'm going to have to take your word that all the prompts are there, so difficult are they to ferret out. "Brains simple as bean-bags." Oh my...!!!

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  8. Kursaal (Episode Ten) -- "Capers The Clown"

    As the Kursaal's eminent clown, Capers was also charged with the distribution of promotional flyers, declaring the park to be, among other things:

    "Amazing! Incredulous! More Fun Than You Can Shake A Stick At!"

    Parents weren't particularly fond of the mute clown, considering his simple-minded posturing absurd but harmless. The little ones, however, adored him. They clamoured for his balloon bunny ears and jumped at every opportunity to dig deep into the pockets of his baggy pantaloons for sweets.

    Capers cared nothing for the opinions of adults. He cared only for the children.

    His overwhelming passion was the children.


    ---------------------------------------------------------
    To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale, please visit:
    http://www.novareinna.com/kursaal.html
    A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
    ---------------------------------------------------------

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    1. Even the title brought goosepimples to the back of my neck, I read this from behind my hand, and when I reached the final line wished I hadn't.
      Obviously there IS merit in challenging you with uninspiring words Patricia!

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    2. this is just outright chilling. Superb.

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    3. This piece is so chilling I think the creeps it delivered will haunt me all day, to the point of not wanting to work on my own today.

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  9. Cripplegate Junction/Part 35-What The Rook Saw

    Incredulous that his absence had not initiated a search for his whereabouts, the Conductor took what opportunity remained to visit the Signal Box. The rook watched as he removed the sepia Blind Man's Bluff picture from its frame, revealing an even older photograph beneath. It was ripped in several places and repaired with yellowing sticky tape.

    The Conductor compared the small snapshot taken from the Left Luggage Office with the larger one before him. It was an expanded version of the same scene. There was the Station Master in his mackinaw but now, other recognizable personages were also in view.

    ---------------------------------------------------------
    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. Another magical twist to this totally absorbing tale. And I doubt you'll do anything as simple as reveal the answer next week. Thank you Patricia - your writing always a treat.

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    2. it just moves on with such intrigue and evocative descriptions you hardly realise you're being carried to the next instalment, until you realise you can't wait for the next instalment...

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    3. Agree with Sandra and Antonia, this is a real treat, and the learning of a new word for me "Mackinaw"

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  10. Infinity 136
    The credulous among the crew thought the clipper were in our hands, an opportunity for instant wealth. Fools. They fought back, hard and strong, sword and rapier, blunderbuss and revolver. I saw one man stuck on First Mate’s sword. Must teach him some tricks next time we dock, you stab, you wound, you kill, you do not skewer!
    But we overcame, eventually, with the loss of a few men and some blood letting. The clipper crew went to feed the fish; the cargo went to the Infinity –tis all I ask of life. Action and a hold full of loot.

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    1. Antonia, for "The clipper crew went to feed the fish" you are entirely forgiven "stuck". And good to see some action of the bloody kind.

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    2. Action indeed, loved this piece, I reread it supplanting stick for stuck, and agree with the captain, "Stuck" it needed to be.

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    3. And so, our Captain's character is excellently summed up. He favors, "Action and a hold full of loot." Quelle surprise! I admit I had to chuckle at the image of an individual skewered on the First Mate's sword. Among a long line of outstanding installments, I would have to list this as one of my top picks.

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  11. just realised stick became stuck, but the Captain wanted it that way. For me, blame it on the migraine... good excuse, what I will do when they eventually go away is anyone's guess... apologies for that transposing of a letter. As I said, blame the Captain. He's also responsible for the blood letting this week, too.

    Meantime back in the real world, Katherine Parr is busy with her many memories of Henry and I am coping with the friend who asked 'did Henry VIII marry the same queen twice?'

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    1. Now you have my attention. What spawned such a question. Confusion regarding names or something less obvious?

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    2. lack of education... he has no idea about the real world.
      The book is finished, thank goodness. I noted Katherine Parr came to me in June 2015. That bereavement threw me for a long time. Now I can return to Cro-Magnon times and the girl waiting for me to finish their story. (Henry interrupted it...)

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  12. Struggling with time this week, I took last Friday off and the world went mad without me so playing a massive catch up. Hope/intend to come back tomorrow and comment.

    The Shallows of Credulity

    Credulous to believe your words that play the same old tune,
    “That things will be different this time”, as you re-offer the moon.
    My naivety the stick, for you to beat me with,
    and my trust the opportunity to reopen old wounds.

    I dream sometimes that I am not alone,
    and my heart has found a safer home.
    Memories of indignity are far away
    And I no longer live life day by day
    But…
    For now I lay before the stars,
    with nought but hidden tears
    Protective of my secret scars
    and mourn these wasted years.

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    1. Desperately sad - and the insertion of the prompts in a single verse nothing less than masterful. Excellent title too.

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    2. Absolutely beautiful use of the prompts in a lyrical form. This was sorrowful and melancholy and wistful. Lovely rendition.

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    3. it is indeed desperately sad but told with such charm, such style, I know I will never write poetry... could not get anywhere near that.

      More later, work calls...

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    4. Sounds like a cry for something unattainable.

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  13. Well, I've left it a bit late but it feels good to be back. I'm a bit rusty but here goes...

    Magpie Road

    It's a sad place, beaten over time. Chains and bolts replace an open front door. Suspicion trumps trust. Glasses are always half empty.

    Take the credulous old man with the stick at number 13. Opened his front door to a pretty young woman selling cheaper utilities, fell for her sweet talk and lost his life savings. The young couple at number 23 who have lost 3 babies during childbirth. The gay man at number 6 who lives a straight life through fear of coming out. The list goes on.

    The opportunity for sorrow is endless on Magpie Road.

    ~End~

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    1. ...and a welcome return that is too, the only rust being from the gate at number 7 who knows what goes on there. Vivid picture painted well with words, I'm sure you have ideas around a longer piece for this.

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    2. You said you would, and here you are! Welcome back David, and as the man who demonstrated to me the power of the drabble-built serial, I hope you are going to keep Magpie Road going for a while - so much promise here.

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    3. I do hope this is not the last we hear about the residents of Magpie Road (and what a wonderful title, by the way). Magnificent cameos that portray much in few words. I'm not sure where my greatest sympathy lies, but perhaps that's the finest aspect of this piece.

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    4. more, please! I want to know more about this strange road.

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  14. The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #14
    On a Border


    I’ve got some sticks from that blue tree that I’ve been drying. Hopefully I’ll have the opportunity to use them. I need to get back to school soon and I will, unless my mother has more errands for me. I haven’t been to practice since break started. Char loves writing to me about the incredulous expressions of our schoolmates when the team performs. Char is our squire, since she loves organizing places for our morris team to dance. Of course, we are border morris so lots of places don’t like us. We threaten their fancy floors too much.

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    1. 'Border morris' - what a wonderful image that brings! And yet another facet of the ever-fascinating Rosebud.

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    2. Very intrigued by the blue tree what an interesting image that creates

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    3. Again, I can only reiterate what I've said before, that your writing has a very unique flavour. I look forward to these installments. They are so very different from anything else. Hence the use of "unique" I suppose. :::Duh:::

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    4. a lot of information being conveyed here, without saying it, a trick a lot of newbies have yet to discover. They tend to spell it all out. You say everything with that last sentence.

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  15. Family games

    ‘Stick or twist?’
    ‘Twist.’
    Too high. I placed my cards face down. Took the opportunity to stand, to stretch, exaggerating just a little the effort of easing the cramping of my spine. Aware that in doing so I drew attention to my breasts, naked and unbound beneath the fine jersey of the pale grey top I wore.
    Pontoon – deemed simple enough to be comprehended by us children (although I no longer considered myself so) – was but one of our Christmas entertainments. More recently I’d discovered others – Sardines, Hide and Seek – to be more lucrative. Especially when played with credulous uncles.

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    1. We do seem to be venturing along the dark path of humankind's underbelly this week, don't we? I loved this and my mind immediately launched, "I'm your wicked Uncle Ernie." Adore the fact it was a pale grey top. I don't know why....I just did. No other colour would have worked half so well.

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    2. Interestingly my mind immediately thought of Emily Lloyd's character in Wish You Were Here. Must agree with Patricia on the pale grey top, my take on it is that maybe ur protagonist in this piece is just on the turn from innocence towards darker shades of opportune manipulation?

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    3. Dead right William - she's ~13 ...

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    4. That is seriously harrowing. An age where as a parent you are just letting go a little more, but still seriously want to protect them from the world that tainted you. (speaking from my personal experiences). Explains how I struggled to comment when I first read this piece .

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    5. And an age where the battle between thirst for experience, dawning knowledge of power and near-total ignorance of consequence are in collision. Where, speaking from experience (although not of anything like this) what parental guidance one's had up to that age, kicks in and, with luck, keeps you safe.
      Where, when absent, it spells so much trouble for the unwary male.

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    6. deeply chilling piece, this, saying more than the words allow, very very dark.

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  16. The words you choose have a credulous tone,
    They provide opportunity for a poem of woes
    My lack of experience tells of hard times
    Stick nor carrot can carry me on.

    But now I'm happier in a wonderful place
    Wife and family shower me with grace
    Love and friendship exude from them all
    Especially my boys who want to play.

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    1. Welcome Laurence - how brave to begin with poetry, and thank you indeed for combining stick with carrot. Hope you'll become a regular player.

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    2. Welcome indeed if you come bearing such talent. It's nice to see another poet in the area. I'm not proficient in the different genres of poetry, but this had a lovely flow. What category of poem does it fall under?

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    3. You said you would be out to play this week Laurence, and a great introduction piece it is too. A fine example of assonance if I'm not mistaken.

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    4. welcome to the gang, Laurence, what a stunning entry!

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  17. I don't talky have a category. I just write as I feel

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