I am beginning to firmly believe that whatever creatures might have come out into the snows of New England to stalk and haunt the darkest recesses of the mind, have given up the whole notion. I've lost count of how many inches of snow we now have, though I have just shoveled the walk, and I can tell you that the snow was just about up to my hips. I'm thinking about 3 feet and we're NOT talking drifts here.
Mind, body and soul feel bone white, ice cold, and dryly brittle, these days.
However, there are have been stories to read, and an internet connection to argue with, so I've been kept busy!
Our winner this week is Patricia Purvis with Le Rue Le Veut: A truly touching little tale of horror. More so, because of the truth of it. Thank you!
And now the Tome, which is as fed up with snow as I, has given us some new words.
Ginger
Measure
Sentry
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 20th. Winners and words on Saturday, February 21st.
Congratulations Foxxglove, and your snowy tale Colleen just as horrific.
ReplyDeleteUsing my senses [Threshold 55]
Stood still as a sentry part obscured by the heavy curtain, he’d hoped to remain undetected until I was asleep and vulnerable. Were my nose less sensitive he might’ve succeeded but I’d smelt that curious combination of cloying roses and pungent fresh-grated ginger once before; less strong then for being outdoors but close enough – my face forced against the angle of his neck as he attempted to measure the length of himself against me – to remember it.
Then he’d been distracted by the sound of fighting.
This time I doubted Phelim’s ability to defend me, not once he’d seen Helvinsson.
this serial is as entertaining as Pettinger and he's a class act in himself! I love this, the imagery is amazing here.
DeleteAgree that the serial is entertaining. The prompts bring a different feel to it - the use of the other senses. Looking forward to the next instalment.
DeleteLoved the use of scent to paint the scene. Always have a better time visualizing the story when scent is involved as it triggers my own memories. :)
DeleteThis was quite an amazing read. Such sensory images. I love this.
DeleteI can only reiterate what has already been said as I found the use of smell was very well expressed, using the senses was a great touch though and made the piece connectable.
DeleteThank you all - once before when I used the sense of sound rather than smell it was commented on as hugely enhancing - note to self to remember to make more use of it elsewhere!!
DeleteA change of focus [118]
ReplyDeletePettinger posted sentries at every exit before following Edward Cherrystone’s coffin into the crematorium seeking, amongst the myriad heavily-veiled mistresses, Hope and Charity.
Faith being doubly absent – daughter still too ill and afterlife a measure of man’s need to self-deceive – it was a humanist occasion.
As the curtains opened a flock of doves, released from near the front sent all eyes but Pettinger’s following their flight. In the shadowed edges two women tiptoed silently away.
Outside a constable gingerly fingered a scratch on his cheek but DCs Brickwood and Eldred held them secure.
One was Charity; the other wasn’t Hope.
your ability to leave us with cliffhanger sentences never fails! This is another good instalment of an interesting, gripping serial. Love it!
DeleteA great outlining of the scene - you really feel you are there. Another serial to keep following.
DeleteLoved the cliffhanger at the end. Delicious twist & interest held for continuation of the tale. Also loved the phrase 'in the shadowed edges two women tiptoed silently away'.
DeleteThis was so intriguing. I wish the limit were much more than 100 words since I hated to leave it here.
DeleteThe quality of your work always amazes me, your use of the prompts here was seamless as it often is.
Deletecongratulations Foxxglove! superb writing which I've come to associate with you.
ReplyDeleteColleen, your snow sounds horrendous. I am frozen today but yesterday it was damp, my bones aren't sure what's going on and they don't like it, so I cannot begin to think how yours are coping!
Guardian
ReplyDeleteSentry duty pissed him off. The others were out fighting. All he was doing was guarding stores.
He hefted his rifle and turned to measure another 100 steps.
A crackle in the undergrowth made him swing around. A dark figure stumbled towards him.
‘Halt. Who goes there?’
The figure came closer.
He raised his gun, waiting.
‘Any closer and I’ll shoot.
He was ignored.
Staring eyes from a contorted face sprouting ginger hair, hands reaching.
He fired.
No effect.
He scrambled to reload; too late.
Elongated teeth ripped at his throat as silver bullets fell from nerveless fingers.
The staccato sentences add to the tension here; the opening line setting the scene, the final bringing it to a vivid close.
DeleteIt takes skill to write those very short sentences that effectively. Like this, encapsulates so much.
DeleteI agree with Sandra, the quick pacing of the sentences drives the tension beautifully. Loved the phrasing of the final line as well.
DeleteWell this had me totally fooled. The writing was brisk and moved along at a wonderful clip. Loved the "silver bullets" that "fell from nerveless fingers." From what depths of creation did that magnificent phrasing come?
DeleteLike a scene from a movie your story evoked a stark but panicked sense of excitement that was very well expressed, great work.
DeleteThere are unplumbed depths I'm seeking to plumb :)
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 2- Marmalade, The Station Cat
ReplyDelete(By: Foxxglove)
(98 Words)
Clive Bailey's watch had apparently stopped working.
"What's the damn time?" he asked the Conductor, "and why did we take a detour?"
"Time is not measured in the traditional sense here, sir," replied the Conductor, ignoring the second question.
A rotund ginger tabby with magnificent plumed tail emerged from the sentry box by the turnstile.
"This," said the "Conductor, "is Marmalade, Cripplegate Junction's cat. He is distantly related to the renowned Skimbleshanks."
Marmalade twitched his whiskers and regarded Clive through gold-glinted eyes.
"He has exhausted all nine lives," added the Conductor, "which has made him very wise indeed."
Oh! A rotund marmalade cat and a sentry box, bringing echoes of stories from childhood. But I doubt this will be as sweetly innocent a tale somehow.
DeleteBeware the cat! I do enjoy such a leading character. There's more to come I trust?
DeleteThis is going well! Such interesting characters being revealed to us one at a time. Love the way the cat strolled into the storyline.
DeleteA very beautiful and interesting story. Loved the hook of the first line and the fantastical nature of the story as it continued to unfold. Great phrasing describing the cat. :)
DeleteExcellent use of descriptive storytelling and the conductor sounds very curious.
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ReplyDeleteLet Them Eat Cake
ReplyDelete(By: Foxxglove)
(100 Words)
She measured another cup of chopped ginger, stirring it into the batter. It disguised the taste of black nightshade perfectly. A wonderful plus was that a handful of the unripe berries scattered on the windowsill had soon put a stop to the irritating twitter of the bluebirds.
They would be home soon, marching in single file like little sentries, warbling their absurd repetitive ditty, and tracking mud all over her clean floor. She wondered which glutton would be the first to devour a slice of the cake. Probably Dopey. He always had been a few plums short of a pie.
Truly loved the way you've dealt with those blessed irritating dwarves, but leaving the reveal of them until then end so I have to re-read and enjoy all over again,
Deletethis is another delight, such a good twist on the old story!
DeleteGreat evil twist to an old classic! Dark and engaging. Beginning two sentences were perfect. :)
DeleteVery well done, enjoyed the take on a classic tale.
DeleteNow there's a cook to avoid. She really has an underlying nastiness about her. Not as Walt Disney would portray her. Nice variation on a theme.
ReplyDeleteBy the way we get snow in Tasmania but it's high on the mountains, and never too cold. I can only imagine what you're going through in UK.
I'm in the North East of England and we've had an exceptionally easy time of it this winter. There's still March to come, of course, but NE America is a different thing entirely!
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ReplyDeleteInfinity 88.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I do believe the Gods be taking care of this cap’n. The cook wants more ginger. He hides bad food under spices, this I know. He measures his successes by how many are sick and how many are not… as if he stands sentry at the head and knows who’s throwing up… My task is to get the ginger.
We are set fair to land at an island way south of the Indees to get ginger. And I can set the Creature free. And we can sail away and leave the damn thing there to do what it will.
Sounds like the Cook should be thrown to the Creature!
DeleteDefinitely wouldn't want to be eating food from this guy! Not sure how lucky the Captain will be with his plans for the Creature.
DeleteI wonder if it is entirely possible to leave this Creature behind at some isolated island. I think perhaps it has plans of its own. I believe this particular installment is particularly inspired and use of the prompts exceptional.
DeleteI've missed a few entries but seems the cap'n is always plotting and planning, although with the creature on board I'm not surprised of course, hopefully they don't reach the island just yet since I do enjoy the creatures hold on the captain.
DeleteWe've had rain again. Cold nasty damp get-into-the-bones rain. I can cope with that. I only have to read of Colleen's attempts to clear the snow and know I would prefer the rain any day... I can drive in rain. I cannot drive in snow. It petrifies me!
ReplyDeleteWould you look at that, Thursday evening and the Captain has arrived to tell his tale again. I shall go rush off and do some writing now, anthologies are building fine, closed 2 this week, really should be launching 2 more... but I might need a small break...
Again the prompts enter seamlessly into the story and carry it in a different direction. The cook and the captain are equally to blame, each surviving in their own particular way.
ReplyDeleteIll-Prepared
ReplyDeleteGinger hair looped and coiled about her pinched and nervous face, Cademia sucked the cool air into her lungs and attempted to stare down the fox-faced sentry. His amber eyes held an incongruous mix of amusement and annoyance, as if he was as unsure about his feelings as Cademia's ill-prepared deception.
"I've been sent for the boy," she said. Her voice was about as substantial as a dandelion puff. Let this work, she prayed.
As if taking measure of her authority, the sentry eyed the royal blue shields embroidered on her gown. "Better you than me," he said at last.
//
The wording for several phrases is bothering me a bit (also noticed some repetition), but I wanted to submit my entry before the end of the night. Writing time is very slim with a new (new as in first child) 6 month old. :)
No jarring here Zaiure and admiring that you are able to write at all. So good to read your ever-inventive names and the hints of something so much more behind what's said. Loved that you described her voice.
DeleteThis was exquisite writing. Very mysterious indeed and I love the name "Cademia." I don't believe I've seen you here before, but I am something of a "newbie." I do hope you'll be participating on a regular basis. Looking forward to seeing more of your pieces.
DeleteThis left me wanting to find out more, not sure if this is a serial but now I'm curious what kind of plans the 'boy' was in for.
Deletealong with Rob, I'm hoping it's a serial, again, there's a lot here. Congratulations on being able to write with your new one demanding so much attention.
DeleteWord of warning, my 41 year old is still demanding so much attention, but in time you learn to ignore most of it. I have written with her sitting on the end of the desk, cross legged like a pixie, playing with the pens...
but then, word has it that Thomas Hardy wrote at the kitchen table with a child on his lap!!
Thanks all! Not a serial, though I am continuing a similar story on the side. Might continue here next week, but in a different direction. :)
Delete@Patricia I'm an oldie, but I haven't been able to participate in a long time. So much fun when I do! :)
@Antonia haha I am determined to find a way to write without needing silence, my biggest hurdle presently with the little one :)
I like it. The name evokes a mystery. Like Rob, I'd like to find out more. Pinched and nervous face seems to lead on to 'fox-faced' to my mind which is good. Royal blue shields adds another dimension.
DeleteProblems with mother-in-law
ReplyDeleteWasn’t often you saw an unspayed ginger Tom and it was a measure of the accommodating bandy-leggedness of his walk that he got called “Golden Balls.”
But it embarrassed my Nan.
Had she asked anyone but me to stand sentry she might’ve succeeded, but I watched her get the knife out the drawer and sharpen it before setting down a saucer of chopped steak and guessed what she was up to.
I fetched my Mum.
She went screeching mad.
‘You might’ve managed to cut the balls off your no-good, runaway son, but I won’t let you do it to Beckham!’
Made me laugh out loud! Loved the humor and the suggestion of a very interesting family history. Beckham's lucky he's got someone in his corner. :)
DeleteREALLY not sure about this - put it on earlier then removed and revamped,but it still seems a bit off - sorry.
ReplyDeleteNot off at all, Sandra. I simply loved it. What a wonderful name for a Tom cat -- Beckham -- and complete with "golden balls" to boot. I am so glad the feline Beckham escaped the knife. I would add that this give me a hearty chuckle.
ReplyDeleteit's funny, it's clever, I loved it!
DeleteReminds me of a friend whose sister used to catch entire toms and use a sack and a razor blade to... Had a chuckle with the story and love the concern about the cat rather than the son.
DeleteMy steps were measured, the old temple was said to bare many a trap and every step I took was marred by trepidation as I climbed the first steps leading to the entryway.
ReplyDeleteTwo stone sentries stood guard eternally, swords in hand; one on each side of the doorway to scare off the locals no doubt. But as I passed I could swear that the blades they held were stained, a pale ginger almost like age old blood was evident on their weapons.
My team were still trailing though and I should have waited, but curiosity gripped more than sense.
So many evocative phrases in this: 'marred by trepidation', and 'age-old blood' which, along with the stone sentries well set the scene for the final line.
Deletegood to see you writing so well, Rob! is this the start of a serial? Really hope so, there's a lot going on and a lot we need to know.
DeleteLoved the use of ginger. I agree with Sandra about your use of phrasing. :) Really loved the intriguing final line. I hope you do continue this.
DeleteDefinitely a story to continue. When I saw the prompts I thought it limited the range of stories - I was glad to be proven wrong. Relating ginger to blood was clever.
DeleteThis was such an atmospheric piece. I love the idea of stone guards, rather like Gog and Magog (although I'm not sure they were made of stone). I do hope we find out more. It would be a crime to leave it there.
DeleteThank you all, trying to push myself back into writing more again and will see if I can weave the next words into a continuing story, appreciate the feedback though it means a lot to me
Deleteanybody out there? Colleen, buried under the snow, Rebecca, where be you??????
ReplyDeleteI"m here! Finally...working on winners and words right now! 3:39 PM EST! Or...DST...I can never remember when that happens!
ReplyDeleteSorry for our absence. We both had a couple of weeks where life became overwhelming. I'm itching to write, so I can't wait to see what Colleen comes up with for new words. Thank you all for your patience with us. We'll be more present in the next challenge.
ReplyDeletemy problem is, I panic! I visualised Colleen crushed under the weight of snow and heaven alone knows how many scenarios I concocted for Rebecca... (LOL) seriously, I do this! I can have a full on panic over nothing!
ReplyDelete