This week’s winner is Patricia for her admirable ability to so effectively, as Antonia
says, inject 'you
know what I'm talking about' without spelling it out, in Bird has flown.
One one level, the art, the skill of writing is to manipulate the reader into seeing exactly what you intend them to, but it is always interesting – and informative – when readers put a different interpretation on words one has supposed say something else. It could be said to be the result of sloppy writing, as I think I’m guilty of with last week’s Threshold 85. (On re-reading I could see exactly what Patricia and Antonia had read into it and wish I’d been that clever!) But interpretation is what Prediction is about - the taking of three words and making something unique - and is what each of us so effectively demonstrates here, week after week, for which I thank you all.
One one level, the art, the skill of writing is to manipulate the reader into seeing exactly what you intend them to, but it is always interesting – and informative – when readers put a different interpretation on words one has supposed say something else. It could be said to be the result of sloppy writing, as I think I’m guilty of with last week’s Threshold 85. (On re-reading I could see exactly what Patricia and Antonia had read into it and wish I’d been that clever!) But interpretation is what Prediction is about - the taking of three words and making something unique - and is what each of us so effectively demonstrates here, week after week, for which I thank you all.
Words for the coming week are: filigree, ominous, plug
Entries
by midnight Thursday October 29th,
new words and winners posted on Friday 30th
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.
This one popped into my head as soon as I read the prompts, but kept getting darker as I was writing it...
ReplyDelete*Making the Connection*
I'm already holding the plug when I notice there's a little tattoo around his socket, a kind of filigree pattern where it meets the skin. That's not possible post-implantation so it must have been done before; it means he thought about the process, always a good sign. And could tolerate the pain of the tattoo machine in a highly sensitive spot, a more ominous portent. I'm curious if he has other ink but the robe covers everything. Anyway there's no time to look, the ceremony must proceed; I'll check afterwards to see if any parts of him are worth saving.
Brilliant! Really loved this, even while recoiling with the horror of it.
Delete(I've opening sentences, but only a frothy closure at the moment - can't have that!)
this is so dark it's midnight and I loved it. Clever, setting up all sorts of pictures for the mind. I recall someone saying the pictures were better on radio, methinks they're better on the screen. I can carry this one on in my head...
DeleteWow! Tons going on here, and I can imagine so many answers to my questions.
DeleteThis was a tricky one to create. Very intriguing and leaves me wondering what is truly going on. Nicely done.
DeleteThis one is not quite as dark, in a couple of ways.
ReplyDelete*Today's Haul*
"Whadja find?"
It looked like an electric lamp. Although verdigris crusted the delicately filigreed bronze surface and the shape was decidedly unusual, everything about it spoke of great craftsmanship. And even greater age, which meant more dough from the pawnbroker.
They circled around it, pointing at what seemed to be characters in the engraving. Someone with expertise in ancient languages might have found them both exciting and ominous. One of them fingered the dangling cord uncertainly.
"G'wan, plug it in!"
Shock, pain, cringing away from the sudden light. And when it faded, the lamp stood alone, waiting for the next.
Ha! But just as clever, and subtle use of the prompts.
Deleteyes, as Sandra said, just as clever, and leaving lots of questions to be answered, too. Liked it a lot.
DeleteNo, not as dark. Heh, heh. Not much of a warning. You got your readers twice.
DeleteI liked this one a lot. A type of reversal genie in the lamp. Instead of something emerging, there's something entering. I'd love a scenario of what goes transpires after the shock.
DeleteThe Last Word
ReplyDelete(100 Words)
"What's that?" asked Tyler.
"Blowpipe and poison darts," answered Corey.
"Liar!"
"Am not! What YOU got?"
Tyler waved a filigree-handled pistol. "Wyatt Earp killed the Clantons with this."
"Doc Holliday did Earp's killing," taunted Corey, taking off with a whoop.
"Plug you fulla lead for that!" warned Tyler, giving chase.
They reunited for the ominous showdown.
The dart was true. Corey gloated over his fallen friend.
"Ain't no liar and that gun never belonged to Wyatt Earp."
The bullet exited the back of Corey's skull.
Tyler took longer to die. He made the most of his final moments.
"Did too!"
Awesome (in the English sense of the word). Perfectly-formed little drama, and really clever use of the prompts.
Deletethis made me laugh, so clever, so twisty and so - very human all at the same time. People always want the last word. Good one, Patricia, love it!
DeleteCorey and Tyler should have considered some anger management classes. Oh well, too late now... and this way is a better story ;)
DeleteHaving only begun reading, feel I'm wading in deep water here. Big leagues stuff.
Deletemany congratulations, Patricia, didn't want to say that in the middle of comments, it was a clever piece of writing and shows your talents well.
ReplyDeleteIt's been a rough week, the body shipped back to the island, me taking the clothes to the undertakers, the whole long drawn out bit. At least we could confirm the funeral, write the notices, prepare posters for the shop - we're closing for two days, one for the funeral, one for a mark of respect - so the public need to be told why our doors are firmly closed for two days.
I'm still distraught, hoping another week will quieten me enough to be able to deliver my few words at the funeral without going to pieces...
Thwarted [Threshold 86]
ReplyDeleteBeyond the filigree blackness of the winter-bare branches, a sky ominous as the thorn-sharp of his eyes. They, despite my screaming tantrum at his ultimatum, remained intractable.
Blighted hope swirled like bathwater down a plug-hole. (How many months since I last sat in a bath? Not since Burk’s parent’s house, after I’d given birth. He’d dried me with such tenderness I’d gone from hatred to love in a heartbeat.)
He spoke. ‘I’ll take you to safety. Leave you there. If you follow me, I’ll have no compunction about killing you.’
‘Like you did my son?’
‘Yes. For the same reasons.’
Shudders galore with this one. It occurred to me that since you're the one who hands out the "blue ribbons" every week, modesty would prevent you from nominating your own pieces. That hardly seems fair since so many of your submissions are worthy of being up there among the winners. Any way we could rectify that, at least every now and again, by something like a group vote?
DeleteThank you Patricia, but truly reward for my writing comes weekly with the comments and participation of others, which gives me permission to selfishly keep writing and an ever-rising standard to aim at.
Deletemagical piece of writing, so descriptive - couldn't begin to pick one bit out above the others.
DeleteChange of focus [150]
ReplyDelete‘He said? Which he? Who said she had to be there?’
Stephanie’s mother (presumably) produced an incongruously grubby, filigree-edged handkerchief. Blew her nose, further muffling her reply, ‘Thought it was a vicar. Or something. She said Divine.’
The word rumbled, ominous. The woman’s apparent age produced a second fear. Having spent the night plugging bleeding wounds; leaks of blame and rumour, John Pettinger was drained of tact. Abruptly, ‘How old?’
‘S-seventeen. Old enough –‘
‘To –?‘
She read his suspicion. ‘To drive. That’s what she said she’d be doing –‘
‘Where?’
‘I don’t – is she dead?’
Grim-faced, ‘I doubt it.’
Two good ones. First reads super tight, very professional, and has the edge of conclusion. Second one reads like a passage between larger events. Both impressive in the use of the prompts.
DeleteThis leaves me absolutely brimming with questions, which I won't bother to ask since I know you're most unlikely to give me immediate answers! As always, the prompt words are absorbed by the brilliance of those around them.
Deletethe episodes come with the prompts, don't they? i found that with the Captain. This is clever and full of questions indeed.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 18-The Left Luggage Office
ReplyDelete(100 Words)
The Conductor made his way along the platform, past the Paynes Poppets vending machine and the ticket counter with "Closed" taped to its grille, until he reached the Left Luggage Office.
He opened the door with a brass filigree key and illuminated the interior courtesy of a lantern plugged into the stone; however, instead of steamer trunks and hat boxes, there was metal shelving holding assorted whatnots.
He opened a large wooden keepsake box containing photographs of Cripplegate in bygone days. One image depicted the Station Master wearing an ominous smile and a mackinaw which bore the insignia: "Sanatorium Governor."
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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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'Mackinaw'??!! I'm going to have to look that up! Delicious details in this, Patricia, a charm bracelet of a piece.
DeleteLike this much. Has the feel of a well-known place. The linked site is comfortable, too.
DeleteA lovely solid instalment bringing its own set of questions along with it.
DeleteOk, just one more - filigree is just such a good word ;)
ReplyDelete*Bad Habits*
My mother was always seeing ominous signs - black cats, broken mirrors, sudden storms. She was a flake, but it stuck with me some. Maybe this rusty-red sunset was a sign. The dame sitting at my desk decided not to stick with me, so maybe her showing up again was a sign. Her cigarette smoke made fancy filigrees in the sunlight. Like blood swirling down a drain. I was mostly thinking about the plug of tobacco in my pocket, wishing I could bite some off. She wasn't making it easy for me to quit the smokes. Or to quit her.
Hard-bitten voice too. This my personal favourite, I think, being especially taken with the blood swirling down a drain, but also the way you've used filigree - certainly one of my favourite words.
DeleteOoohhhh, lovely film noir images here. This could have been written by Mickey Spillane himself and I can just about see a Robert Mitchum type behind the desk. Some brilliant usage of period words such as "dame" and the ever present femme fatale who is crucial to this sort of scenario. I could have pondered for countless years and failed to have concocted anything of this nature. Well done!
Deletethis is good! Such an accurate retro feel to it!
DeleteA DOG-END
ReplyDeleteAfter the rain, Vienna strolled with him past the kennels tossing treats and sweet words to her fourteen pointers. Now in black, she was wearing a gaudy white gold bracelet with filigree work.
“Plug for your new line?” he asked nodding.
“Would I come up with something like this? I thought you knew me.” She gave him an ominous look indicating he had better if he wished to remain relevant. “No. This was a gift from our old friend Charlie.”
“What the hell!” Dec stopped short.
“Transgressions cost. In memoriam and all that.”
He was losing her by the minute.
Innocuous, those first three words, so why do they deliver such an emotional kick, priming the reader for drama? And nice use of the prompts.
DeleteSeamless use of the prompts. You shouldn't feel as though you're in deep waters at all. In fact <...ahem...> you did swimmingly with this piece. Loved the understated drama.
Deleteand? infuriating when something so intriguing stops so abruptly... next instalment please, ASAP.
DeleteThe Immortal 14
ReplyDeleteA beautiful woman rushed over to a nurse’s side. She had long dark hair, slender legs, a smokin’ body. A silver pendant with gold filigree was plugged between her subtle cleavage.
I was pretty sure my jaw had dropped to the floor and tried to compose myself.
They talked about a patient Sandy was watching over. Disheartened by the news, she turned to leave.
Without hesitation I got up to follow her at a distance, wondering if Death would mind me taking her out before doing the ominous deed.
oh yes, another good instalment, carrying this ever onward to - ?
Delete'Taking out' suddenly having a dual meaning here. Cracker of a final line.
DeleteI was about to say the same thing as Sandra, but she beat me to the punch. Another jaw dropping installment.
DeleteI, too, before reading the comments, was taken back by "take her out" . It's the noirish ambiance of this place, you know? Oh well, re-reading set me straight. Nicely done.
DeleteInfinity 120.
ReplyDeleteAn ominous sky threatened the worst storm we’d had for an age but it did us a favour. We fought the winds, reefed the sails and let it hammer itself out. We pulled the plugs to let water drain off the main decks so we could walk safely, then we looked out to sea and found ourselves heading bow first for a loaded merchantman, wallowing in deep waters. So we went to help – relieve the burden by taking the cargo of filigree jewellery. Then we sent him to the ocean bed. We have no worries about money for a while.
Such matter-of-fact wickedness, and me so ... admiring of the Captain. And yes, the prompts dictate the episodes for you as well as me - and what an addictive process that can be. I'm selfishly glad the Captain will be around for a bit yet.
DeleteLovely blending of the prompts into the continuing tale. And I too am delighted that the Cap'n has no intention of bowing out any time soon.
DeleteIs that the captain narrating? Kept waiting for that subjunctive "be" to pop up, but no, he be speaking a formal English here. Still enchanting.
DeleteTis indeed Cap'n Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard, ferocious flamboyant pirate that he is. His voice takes over mine when we write, I'm pleased to say. These days little is written by me. I did write my own eulogy though!
Deletebeen a rough week, but getting there. I visited the body yesterday and am calmer because of it. Proper closure. The funeral is the showpiece for those who couldn't go, I think. We're planning the funeral, and I realised how fortunate I've been up to now to have others to do the work. Now I'm in the middle of who goes in which car, how many should we cater for at the wake...
ReplyDeleteSo the Captain still has adventures to tell, it seems. I did ask if we were winding the serial down, he said not until he sails back into Shipton harbour. OK, I said, let's keep right on going.
I am glad for your hard-grasped calmness, Antonia and hope that closure brings further ease.
DeleteIn your grief you still have your writer's voice, and for being able to maintain that, I'm happy for you, but I am by no means making light of your situation. Keep sailing and enchanting us. You always manage to take me out of my mundane workaday world.
Deletethanks for the kind words, friends.
DeleteI've not yet been made to face the weeks you've just had; I have no idea how well I'll do when that time comes. Reading your notes to us and watching from afar gives me hope that if I can manage to be half as strong as you, I'll come through to the other side.
Deletethat's the loveliest thing anyone has said since this began on the 9th Oct. Thank you, Bill, that's tremendous. I showed Shaun and he agreed, said I am holding him up right now. Just hope I don't fall apart after the funeral. I do know which particular spirit will stand by me when I give my eulogy, he came this morning to tell me. The man I take my user name from, Antony Woodville, KG, Lord Scales of Newcelles and the Isle of Wight, 2nd Earl Rivers, executed 23rd June 1483 and lived on ever since. He and I have unbreakable links.
ReplyDelete