... are, as Shakespeare said, “of imagination all
compact”, a concept all ten entries demonstrated in spades this week (do check out Bill and Rosie, who squeezed in at the end). Once again, references were made – and praises extended – to the strength of images evoked. What is even more impressive is the subtlety by which they were
conveyed, enabling each of us to carry away our personal, and highly satisfying
take on both what we were seeing and what the protagonists were experiencing.
With so much excellence it is, as I
keep saying – and Patricia pointed out – very hard to pick any one above the others
(not that I am complaining) but for me, this week, Zoë’s ‘In the driving seat’ especially took my fancy. But I thank
you all for contributing, and entertaining so richly.
Words for the coming week are: bandage, frustrate, olive
Entries
by midnight Thursday November 26th,
new words and winners posted on Friday 27th
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.
Congrats Zoë! Well deserved win. :)
ReplyDeleteNicely done, Zoë. Great win during a week when there were so many fine entries.
ReplyDeleteOrder Of The Day
ReplyDeleteAs an afterthought, she'd considered applying bandages but he'd already bled out. Served him right. It was so frustrating. Why didn't people listen?
She tossed the knife into the sink. The pizza box followed. She had specifically said no olives.
Oh brilliant!! Simple and so very, very sharp.
DeleteOlives are evil. ;) Loved the simple ruthlessness of the final line. Fun, chilling piece.
DeleteI guess it would be too much to expect a tip on that delivery! Ouch...
Deletecongrats, Zoe, just getting to everything, late as usual...
DeletePatricia, this is pure evil and I loved it!
Having been NaNoWriMo-ing all day, this came as welcome relief!
ReplyDeletePuppet-master appears [Threshold 90]
It was the soup. Once I’d begun vomiting I regained strength. Maintained pretence of apathy, plaiting bandage while assimilating uniform hierarchies. White, pseudo-healers, overseen by blue. Olive-drab the dirty squad.
Fifth day, they said, was market day.
Not food, but females.
My inability to stand frustrated them. Seemingly, after three days days, a different soup; one to increase libido.
Embarrassing to watch. More so for the fat fool who’d anticipated mine.
He ordered my return, the regime repeated.
Ten minutes after they laid me down, a man of another calibre appeared. My skin crawled.
Ice-blue eyes appraised. ‘Mine, I think.’
Chilling piece, and I hope she gets out of it! Hard to pretend apathy when you can fight back, but know it won't help. Curious about Mr. Ice-blue eyes.
DeleteThis was powerful, both in writing and atmosphere. Had a very creepy feel to it...but in a positive way, indicating how emotions can be stirred via words alone. I believe this is one of your best installments.
Deletetremendous overtones going on here, the piece saying more than is actually on the screen. Clever.
DeleteTony and the muse got along better this week. I might even have time to write something else, these prompts have other possibilities...
ReplyDeleteThat Special Touch
Not long after I showed him the door, the respectable businessman's goons visited. Then Campagnolo's soldati dropped by for good measure. I busted a couple noses but it didn't frustrate them; it's not like they were getting any uglier. On the other hand my delicate olive skin, passed down from my mother, was a matter of some concern - for my lady friends.
"Tony, hold still while I put this bandage on. You don't want another scar, baby."
I remembered that gentle touch, all the other times she'd patched me up. Cuts, bullets, the occasional broken heart.
"Okay, Mom. Thanks."
You have the voice in this so very loud and clear, the "not like they were getting any uglier" a lovely throwaway.
DeleteLoved the narrator's voice in this, and the contrast of the 'ugly' goons and his 'delicate olive skin'. Laughed aloud, especially when I read the last line. :)
DeleteThis was enchanting in its final statement. Love the way you intimated that the patcher-upper was something other than a doting mother. Lovely interwoven use of the prompts.
Deleteso much in this - again, far more than the 100 words allow, which shows the richness of the characters you created. Good one!
DeleteOath Breaker
ReplyDeleteDamoria’s olive skin was slick with sweat, the crystalline sword balanced between her breasts, rising and falling with every labored breath.
“She won’t survive the night,” the toothless healer said. She peered beneath one bloodied bandage and hissed a beer-soaked, Darathokian curse.
“You must save her,” Tion said, frustration marring his oath-scarred face. He could not live without her. His fingers scraped through his braided hair, leaving behind streaks of blood and mud.
“Tis the gods who will decide, if the oath-breaker lives.”
Tion’s eyes turned to iron. “And I will decide if you will.”
Crystalline sword... nice image, that. And for the everyone's sake I hope the night ends well...
DeleteWhy can I smell smoke when I read this? Need to know more of Tion, please.
DeleteThis was very reminiscent of something that should have come straight out of "Song of Ice and Fire." Lovely fantasy piece and definitely leaves us wanting to know more...much more.
DeleteI do so love killer last lines and this one's outstanding! Brilliant evocation of the scene here too.
DeleteWow, thanks :D wasn't expecting that after such a long hiatus...
ReplyDeleteOkay, Tony is taken care of, time to do a little snippet of SF:
ReplyDeleteThose Who Don't Learn
Olive drab went out with the twenty-first century. Everything uses chameleon coating now, even stuff that would never go in the field with us. Sometimes it’s frustrating that we’ve lost touch with our history. Then again some things have never changed - armies still go to war, grunts fight, bandages are wrapped around the wounds, and they heal. At least, the visible ones do.
An uncomfortable remimder that as man fights so does the pain remain. "chameleon coating" a fascinating concept.
DeleteLoved the idea of 'chameleon coating'. My mind conjured such interesting imagery after reading it. Really liked the line 'sometimes it's frustrating that we've lost touch with our history'.
DeleteThis was quite intriguing in its depth of human perception. The more things change, the more they remain the same, non? This was a piece to poke the senses into reflection, that's for sure. It's a same that world leaders cannot ponder on such immaculate reasoning.
Deletephilosophical thoughts in a very short piece, not easy to do. Very thought provoking.
DeleteAnd let's see where it goes when things get dark...
ReplyDeleteSubject Number Eleven
"Yes, it will continue, so long as you frustrate my plans."
The next utterance was barely a breath between crusted lips. One eye wandered, pupil dilated, black olive with no pit. The other rolled into the white and then focused. Sounds escaped between shattered teeth, the broken jaw shifting under great effort.
"Fuck your plans."
A slow shake of the head. "You know I don't like this. I take no enjoyment from it." Blood welling with each blow, soaked bandages unable to contain it. A wet cough, then stillness. He'd pushed too hard; the next one would need more care.
As someone trying to write darker, pain and hurting, but rarely succeeding, I could learn a lot from this. Vividly done, without resorting to cliche.
DeleteLovely use of the atmospheric and quite subtle in its horror. This could almost be a tale of medieval torture. However, I wonder greatly about the "no enjoyment" statement. Not too sure about the truth of that...!!!
DeleteVery smooth, evocative writing when describing the torture. Just saying enough to let our imaginations fill it in.
Deleteit would be easy to over write something like this but you didn't, very restrained and yet full of ghastly gory images.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 22-The Tommy
ReplyDelete"Allright if I take the load off until the Express arrives, missus?" asked the Tommy as he entered the Waiting Room with his spit-polished boots and olive green kitbag. A rolled-up cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, another tucked behind his right ear.
The Grande Dame visibly bristled at the vulgar greeting. Her frustration at his rude intrusion was apparent.
"That train doesn't stop at this station," she snubbed.
The Tommy took a seat anyway and winked at Christopher.
"Sure?" he asked with a cheeky grin, adjusting the frayed bandage swathing his forehead.
The Grande Dame was appalled.
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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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Oh, what a delicious exchange - and so vividly depicted. I particularly liked "visibly bristled at the vulgar greeting"
DeleteLove the exchange between Tommy and the Grande Dame. You can feel her displeasure with every clever phrase.
DeleteI'm picturing Lady Catherine de Bourgh in the role of the Grande Dame...
DeleteIt just occurred to me that some might be unfamiliar with the definition of "Tommy." I'm not referring to The Who's amazing rock opera here, but British slang for a common everyday solider. Just wanted to clear that up. :)
DeleteKipling, The Thin Blue Line, yes? the most vivid description of the life of a British Tommy.
DeleteClever writing, dialogue like that, so natural and yet so hard to portray, is not often found. Liked it a lot.
Change of focus [154]
ReplyDeleteDI John Pettinger’s ‘Fuck!’ an expression of frustration; barely two seconds since he’d put his desk phone down!
Front desk ‘A Mrs Olive Tree to see you sir.’
‘I don’t know an Olive Tree.’ An involuntary snigger, ‘She got an appointment?’
‘Says she’s Stephanie’s mother –‘
‘Inspector Pettinger. I’ve been sent a message’ She held up what he supposed was a bandaged cocktail sausage. ‘Stephanie’s not dead. Dave Divine says he’ll let her go if you send Vanessa Quintain in her place. But you’ve got to do it quick, because another finger will be sent for every day you delay!’
Oh, ick - bandaged cocktail sausage. I'm so glad to be a vegetarian...
DeleteWhat a delightful image "bandaged cocktail sausage" did conjure. LOL. This had a nice hint of humour included and as always, impeccable in its delivery.
DeleteI agree with Bill! Ick. Loved the humor with Pettinger snickering about the olive tree. :)
DeleteI think 'ick' is about right, and Pettinger has more problems to resolve... hope he's up to it...
DeleteThe Immortal 18
ReplyDeleteI tried to move, eyes darting back and forth in panic. My hands lay on the smooth black surface of the table, but they would not budge. My frustration grew, a high pitched yelp caught in my throat for I couldn’t even open my mouth.
The menacing glower emanating from the confines of Death’s black hood brought a shiver to my spine. His hands hovered over me, then dropped. The invisible bandages securing my body disappeared.
“You’ve displeased me, Samuel, but I shall forgive you... for now. Let us start anew. Can I get you anything? An olive perhaps?”
Death offers Samuel an olive - sounds like a song growled out by Rammstein!
DeleteI'm sure Samuel would be more than delighted to take anything Death had to offer him right now which did not mean total destruction. This is a lovely serialization and I never can wait to find out what goes down next.
DeleteDeath being nice, that can't be good. ;) Enjoying the continuation of this story.
DeleteDeath is never nice. There's too many agendas going on there... waiting on the next instalment to see what transpires.
DeleteInfinity 123.
ReplyDeleteSo we docked at some desolate lonely half empty island, took on board fresh water, fruit, meat and flour but were frustrated in our attempts to get ourselves a decent cook. We have to live with the one we have for now, but it’s like bandaging a wound, hidden but tis still there. We did trade for some new sails, olive green so they be, smart and strong and will take us across clear waters for some days. The old sails were fit for shrouds and not much more, shrouds we will need if the cooking don’t improve some…
Oh, so smooth the insertion of prompts and I love what you do with the sails. Excellent continuation.
DeleteLove their complaints about the cook, enjoyed the phrasing! And the description of the sails gave a clear image in my mind.
DeleteI just love the suggestion that the old sails might be used for shrouds if the cooking doesn't improve. I'm sure one of them might be earmarked for the cook himself. LOL. As always the writing is crisp, entertaining and highly imaginative.
ReplyDeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess
ReplyDeleteNatasha was up to her old tricks again. Thrice yesterday she smacked me with a spar. Today it’s the boom of the gaff sail.
“What’s gotten into you?”
Her sails twitched in frustration. She spun the wheel out of my hands and dashed away on the opposite heading.
“You silly thing, we just-Oh no.”
Out of the mist loomed a government airship.
As we dodged behind a cloud our hatches opened, exposing cannons.
---
Seeing as we had the element of surprise, we received only a bandage on the usual roof tile, while they lost two of their olive drab ranks.
"Rosebud, Pirate Princess" - a character who promises much!, if this episode is anything to go by.
DeleteLove the liveliness of the ship, and how she seems to have quite the personality. Fun, enjoyable piece and curious where it will lead next, if you continue! :)
DeleteGlad I came back to check on "close to the wire" entries. This was delightful and what an enchanting name for a Pirate Princess. I do hope you continue with Rosebud's adventures.
ReplyDelete