Friday 30 October 2015

All treats, no tricks

If you check the blogs at the RH side of this page, you’ll see I’ll be starting NaNoWriMo this Sunday, writing the fourth in a series of what are best described as ‘murder mysteries’.  They feature DI Luke Darbyshere who came face to face with DI John Pettinger in book three (poor Pettinger struggling, as ever). From past experience, writing and reading Prediction pieces comes as a welcome diversion, so I don’t anticipate any reduction of activity here. So please keep entries – and comments – coming; both essential to the health of this site.
And this week, a thorough treat! From MDJB’s opening words to Patricia’s ‘Last Words’ and Kai’s closing line. Antonia’s supremely clever blending of the prompts and Bill’s triple offering. Every one a winner in my mind, but since tradition says I have to name a Winner, I declare Bill’s ‘Bad Habit’ to be my favouritest favourite this week.

Words for the coming week are: knuckle, reverberate, sense

Entries by midnight Thursday November 5th, new words and winners posted on Friday 6th


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.

26 comments:

  1. Change of focus [151]

    Lacking sleep, noise of sirens, alarms and ring-tones still reverberating in his head, Pettinger’s sense of compassion had temporarily fled. He weighed again the cost of maternal instinct; the life of one misbegotten six-year-old against not only lives lost – the total now risen to eight – but those irrevocably damaged.
    Harshly, despite the woman’s fingers knuckle-white around her handkerchief, ‘Stephanie will be doing more than drive for Dave Divine. Now he’s been sprung, he’ll get away, but will be needing a few home comforts.’
    ‘Well, he’ll not get them from her – she’s gay!’
    Unreasonably exasperated, ‘Then she’ll soon enough be dead.’

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    1. Kick-ass last line here. As always, the flow is impeccable and the story forward moving. What a heart wrenching turn of phrase is "one misbegotten six-year old."

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  2. Cripplegate Junction/Part 19-Caterwauls And Chatelaines
    (99 Words)

    In the Grand Dame's carriage, the sleeping boy was jarred to consciousness by the sharp rap of a chatelaine across his knuckles. Pitiful caterwauling reverberated the length of the platform as he was transported by his ear toward the dining car.

    Marmalade paused, whiskers quivering, one paw raised in readiness for the next step. He sniffed gingerly at the air, sensing a perfumed presence at his side. He cast glowing green eyes upon a neat pair of boots and the hem of a lavender gown.

    "Christopher," murmured Miss Constance, absentmindedly twining the cat's weaving tail between her gloved fingers.


    ---------------------------------------------------------
    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. Read this three times before I spotted the prompts. Love the visual of Marmalade's paused paw.

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  3. To The Bone
    (98 Words)

    He didn't know how long he'd been alone. He had no sense of time anymore. The silence was palpable, something that reverberated with a life of its own.

    Hunger had become a detached entity, an exacting termagant that demanded satisfaction on a regular basis. Sometimes, he thought he could see it crouching by the water, just within his field of vision. The drooling mouth and slack jaw frightened him.

    It had returned to claim its pound of flesh once again. He looked at his hands. The fingers were gone, but there were still a few sacrificial knuckles remaining.

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    1. Horrible, horrible, that final line. And 'termagant' - oh yes!

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    2. Oh my goodness, Sandra. Was it really THAT bad? I do apologize. Feel free to delete. :(

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    3. Perhaps the better word was 'horrorful' - certainly the visions in my head were that - skillful writing, an.d made the more so by the beauty of the third sentence. .

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    4. Thank you for clarification, Sandra. I feared I'd crossed the line into the realm of offensive and distasteful writing. That can sometimes be so easy to do.

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    5. Never that Patricia - I'm sorry for giving that impression when I was only admiring, and commenting, at gut-level, how it made me feel. And I don't think you could write distasteful.

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    6. Patricia - that line is dark, disturbing, horrifying, twisted, and a perfect punch to one's innards at the end of the story. I've occasionally surprised myself by discovering something that just *needs* to be put into a story, but it's much darker than I would expect. Sometimes that's a bit scary, and I'm not always brave enough to go with it. Bravo for writing that line the way you did.

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    7. Thank you, Bill. I'm not sure what took me there. I think my quill veered toward a dark turn somewhere along the way. I seem to be creating remarkably morbid pieces lately. I'll have to go in search of the more humorous next week.

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  4. Knowledge of death [Threshold 87]

    Last night beside him.
    Like men marching endlessly across a field of hollow skulls, the knowledge reverberated deep within. Wire, barbed and razor sharp, tightened inexorably around my heart: I’d not live long without him.
    I vowed not to waste a moment in sleep.
    Past midnight a crack of knuckle-bones, a barely-breathed oath. Moonlit shadow, arm swift upraised Sixth sense knew danger. I flung my body across Ravenscar, screeching fit to wake the dead, near-deafening him for life.
    Drew breath to scream again – this time for pain. Ravenscar woke to galloping retreat. And my blood a necklace round his throat.

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    1. I really don't know what to say about this piece. I know it's part of a continuation but there's a feeling here that it could really stand alone. I believe this might be my favourite installment thus far. And I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal "my blood a necklace round his throat" to be used by me at a future point in time and hope nobody makes the connection.

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  5. Trying something new - a continuation of a previous story. I make no promises that this will keep up but the prompts just worked out this way.

    Between a Girl and a Hard Place

    Dames - you can't ever make 'em happy, but somehow you keep trying anyway. She comes sashaying through my door because of an ex - maybe the one that replaced me, who knows - he's giving her trouble and she wants me to knuckle some sense into his thick skull. So I say, "Sure, doll, why not? For old times." Turns out he's a bouncer at the Pretty Pussycat Club and my skull ain't nearly as thick as his. That left hook is still reverberating in my head. Which is resting in her lap, so that's not all bad...

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    1. What will it take to make you promise? What especially appeals (partly because of what I've been reading lately) is that you've the hard bitten, punchy impact but are telling it in complex, elegant sentences.. Very impressive. And love the final line.

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    2. Love...love...LOVE this. It's just so atmospheric. You really must make every effort possible to continue this. It would be a grave injustice to leave us all hanging now.

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  6. The Immortal 15

    Death’s orders reverberated within me. I knew I should kill her and be done with it, but what can I say. I’m a sucker for the more graceful sex. The way her ass swayed from left to right with every step made all my senses tingle.

    I couldn’t just extinguish that flame of life without savoring some of its heat. My steps quickened to catch up with her. Asking her out for one date, what would be the harm?

    My knuckles brushed against her arm making her turn around in surprise.

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    1. And then? And then? Kai, once again you've sucked me into this story, satisfied with lovely phrases, then left me dangling.

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    2. This is one hell of a cliffhanger. Intriguing piece and the prompt words blended so seamlessly. I am really enjoying this serial. Can't wait for the next installment.

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  7. It's been a while.... hi :D
    Hope I am not too rusty...

    Once you stop learning…
    ----------------------------------------

    The crack of Marthia's adamantine cane reverberated round the group sensorium; Densee nearly buckled as her consciousness uncoupled from the sensory stone. Her teammates prone about her, groaning; stunned by their counterparts' brutal demise.

    "Out!"

    The troupe shuffled past, dejected by the lesson.

    "Wait..."

    The senior Sensate turned. Densee stood in the doorway, nose crinkling, thoughtful.

    "This was your memory, yes?"

    An assenting grunt.

    "And I had your part. I'm... sorry..."

    Marthia’s hand flicked dismissively.

    "But... their knuckle-cant was clearly telegraphing-"

    Suddenly attentive: "Show me!"

    It was subtle... how had she missed this, in months of bitter replays?

    "Teach me..."

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    1. Welcome back, Zoe - I'd say this is far from rusty - you obviously wrapped your Prediction skills in a pungent oil. I'm especially enchanted by 'knuckle-cant'.

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    2. This was such a smoothly paced entry and the word prompts so cleverly intertwined. I would definitely say you haven't gathered even a miniscule particle of rust.

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  8. Hello! Here's my first attempt at flash fiction, still on time in my timezone, but late for the deadline. Oops.

    A Meeting?

    As she approached the appointed location a whisker grazed something it had never felt before. It seemed to pulse as she paused, reverberating within her. She twitched reflexively. Something, she sensed, was reaching out to her. A bite would scare it. “Yeow! My knuckle!” Tasty.

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    1. Welcome Rosy, an impressive beginning - especially the intriguing opening sentence. Hope you'll be back for more. Re the timezone - if it's here when I come to judge Friday morning (me never being up at midnight, since I'm and early bird) I usually include it.

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  9. Extremely cute. The viewpoint of a meeting from the aspect of an animal. I "see" a cat, but I suppose it could be anything with whiskers. Nicely done and very impressive first attempt.

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