This week, a non-writing friend read ‘A blacksmith’s wife’ and immediately assumed my experiences had informed the unnamed protagonist, otherwise how could I have written it? While accepting I've become a lot more interesting in said friend's eyes, I am more than a little bemused to have been thought so capable of surviving rape and near-murder and so inclined to adultery.
Here, on the Prediction, in a week of exceptional variety of prompt word usage, I revel in your talents, imagination and participation, recognising it is as close as I come to mental Ecstasy. Such variety does, of course, make choosing a ‘winner’ all the harder, but I nominate Zaiure’s ‘Battle Scars’ as top favourite, with Patricia’s ‘Cripplegate 20 and Bill’s ‘His oldest friend’ as runners up. And thank you all for the enjoyment.
Here, on the Prediction, in a week of exceptional variety of prompt word usage, I revel in your talents, imagination and participation, recognising it is as close as I come to mental Ecstasy. Such variety does, of course, make choosing a ‘winner’ all the harder, but I nominate Zaiure’s ‘Battle Scars’ as top favourite, with Patricia’s ‘Cripplegate 20 and Bill’s ‘His oldest friend’ as runners up. And thank you all for the enjoyment.
Words for the coming week are: elastic, question, puppet
Entries
by midnight Thursday November 19th,
new words and winners posted on Friday 20th
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.
Very well done, Zaiure. I had a feeling you might get the big award last week, and congratulations are also in order to Bill. I rather like the provided prompts this time around. They offer much potential that I hope to be able to utilize. Fingers crossed anyway!
ReplyDeleteThanks Patricia! :)
DeleteThe Clown
ReplyDelete(53 Words)
Some questions are best left unanswered. Case in point, the Clown. That staple of the Big Top. That comical puppet sans strings. Imagine the tiny hat with elasticated chinstrap, the gargantuan shoes, the outlandish costume and the innocuous smile.
But don't ask what lurks beneath our greasepaint.
You would not want to know.
The Clown - horror personified - and 'puppet sans strings' is as good a reason as I've ever heard..
DeleteI have a terror of clowns that virtually transcends words. To me, they are the stuff of total nightmares.
DeleteClowns freak me out as well, and I felt a shiver at your deliciously suggestive writing. Perfect description with a sinister undertone. :)
Deletenice one, Patricia. I watched IT at the weekend, so I know how horrific clowns can be... cleverly done.
DeleteWhy are so many averse to clowns? They are a staple of every circus. I'm not saying the fear is unfounded. I, too, do not love them. Just wondering why so many of us don't.
DeleteThis little tale is unsettlingly good.
Thank you! And congrats Patricia and Bill :)
ReplyDeleteDeepest Cut
ReplyDelete‘You’re his puppet!’ Tina spat the words at him.
‘We all are.’ Derek stopped the car outside Frankie’s pub, ‘Time for an answer to the question.’
‘You haven’t the nerve.’
‘Tina, shut it.’ An old scar across his ribs, began to sting; a sure sign of trouble.
Frankie sat with his cronies; his cold fish eyes missing nothing.
‘A word, if I may?’ Derek spoke quietly.
Frankie nodded.
‘You seeing my wife?’
Frankie nodded; his sly smile freezing as his guts bounced like elastic against his knees.
Newbie.
And now I want to know what Derek did to Tina! Loved the bouncing guts.
DeleteVery skillful integration of the prompt words. They weren't easy to find, which is always the signature of a nicely worked piece. I like the way the "old scar across his ribs" started to sting. I've never experienced such a sensation, but it's very believable.
DeleteI agree with Patricia, well done weaving the challenge words into the piece. I also enjoyed the phrasing of the line about the scar, and the bouncing guts was a clever way to deliver his emotions.
Deletevivid writing, lots of emotive words which brought the piece alive without being overdone.
DeleteI liked his "shut it" before he went in and did the job on Frankie. No cuckold, he, not for long anyway. Very authentic sounding.
DeleteChange of focus [153]
ReplyDeleteJohn Pettinger kept her sober. Never left her in the daytime. Nor allowed her home at night.
Wasn’t sure who suffered most.
Knew only that Vanessa’s ever-elastic morals need become finite; more finely-defined than hitherto.
Knew her tenure as puppet, dirty dancing for Jack Divine, need be terminated; Dave Divine arrested.
Knew Zak’s potential to be used as pawn need be nullified.
The question was how?
Remove Zak?
‘He’s innocent!’
Remove Jack?
Groan of denial – unaccountably, she loved the bastard.
Bring Dave Divine to trial?
‘It’ll happen all over again!’
‘In which case, Vanessa, you’ve no choice but to resign.’
This was some sharp writing and the exchange between Pettinger and Vanessa most intriguing. These characters are so vivid that they could be based upon actual people....is that the case?
DeleteBoth entirely figments of my imagination! Pettinger pre-dates Prediction - he arrived in 2012 for a story for a House of Writers gathering; Vanessa several episodes in (~15) and went unnamed for several more.
DeleteLoved the exchange, and lovely phrasing. Really love the last name Divine, as well. :)
Deletetis another excellent instalment. You know these people SO well!
DeleteImpressive, rapid-fire delivery. So regret unable to pop in often. You are a Divine host.
DeletePart of someone else’s show [Threshold 89]
ReplyDeleteFirst question, inevitably, ‘Your name?’ I gave a false one. False as my explanation for how I came here.
I think they knew this; so close to the Border, truth, like law and order, becomes elastic, and it was not by any means of law they now occupied this house.
They cleaned, re-bandaged me. Wondered why I insisted on re-using the originals, but it’s all I have of him. Instead of recovering I grew feebler. Couldn’t understand why, once strong enough to slaughter widows, I’d become limp as puppet lacking strings.
Whispered: ‘So you’ll not resist re-attachment of others’ strings.’
This was quite delicate in its delivery. The symbolic re-use of the original bandages was really wonderfully creative. I really appreciate the different "takes" everyone has on the prompt words -- which I know I've said before but which never fails to take me by surprise. I'm constantly muttering: "Now why didn't I come up with something like that?"
DeleteI know that feeling well, Patricia but have to say challenges such as this have taught me that my reluctance to post something which, because it occurred to me, seemed boringly obvious, is misplaced. And you, your writing, could never be accused of lacking originality!
DeleteI sometimes question whether I should post a certain story, but always pleasantly surprised by the comments!
DeleteThe re-use of the bandages stuck out for me as well, and I loved the symbolism. Loved the imagery of the line 'I'd become limp as puppet lacking strings'.
lots of hidden horror in this, images that will stay in the mind, like re-used bandages... good instalment.
DeleteThe numbers displayed are daunting. Am at, like, episode 25 of my little potboiler, and even that not bubbling briskly. How do you keep up the pace? And the writing is good and intriguing.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 21-Pockets And Possessions
ReplyDelete(98 Words)
The Grand Dame propelled Christopher into the empty Waiting Room at the end of the platform. She deposited him upon a wooden bench and bade him turn out his pockets. It was the usual schoolboy fare: a few elastic bands, some pieces of string, a red game counter, a fuzz-covered gobstopper and one item that did not belong.
"Where did you get this?"
Christopher jerked like a puppet whose string had been violently tugged.
She leaned forward, breath sweet with the scent of Parma Violets.
"I will repeat the question only once, child. Where did you get this?"
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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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And now I'm racking my brains to worj out what it was! Lovely how evocative 'Parma Violets' is -I remember buying them and then wondering why!
DeleteI always found Parma Violets to be rather like Fry's Turkish Delight. The taste is so reminiscent of the scent of the flower...or maybe it's just me!
DeleteImpressed with the smooth continuation of this story, and really loved the imagery of Christopher's reaction - 'jerked like a puppet...'
Deleteeveryone's offerings this week are so vivid, so full of images, the Captain is quite green with envy. This is another example...
DeleteThis is one of my favorite storylines on this site. It, like stories of Antonia's Captain, just always "feels right."
DeleteIn the Driving Seat...
ReplyDelete----------------------------------
"So, not an accident." Farnett surveyed the Frankencar before him; the inelastic collision of the speeding electric roadster into the questionably parked Kia made the deformed tangle seem like some bizarre cut-and-shut.
"Bluetoothing the wife at the time. Screaming that something was controlling her, jamming both feet on the gas."
"The other driver?"
The traffic cop gestured to the layby: "Bald guy in the dressing gown and boxers. Witnesses have him braking twenty seconds prior. He staggered out, meandered across the carriageway Frogger-style. Just sat down till we showed up.”
Farnett sighed inwardly: the Puppeteer was back in town...
Very intriguing, well-written story. Love the idea of (and horrified by) the Puppeteer, and clever use of 'Frankencar'. :)
DeleteWell-written indeed, and creates such vivid images. The final line delivering the unexpected punch, sending shivers down my spine..
Deletevery well written, yes, and again, images to savour.
DeleteWow, that's a lot of work constructed concisely. It more than does the job.
DeleteOoohhh, liked this one very much. Some nice current references with the bluetooth and what a killer of a last line!
ReplyDeleteThe Dance
ReplyDeleteShe’s a puppet in his arms, spinning out, then back again, as if bound by evanescent elastic to his coaxing, twisting fingers. My chest rises and falls with hers. My body sways, lifts, pushes forwards, then settles back, grounding to the floor as he spins her past, his dark, compelling eyes trapping mine. Breathless, my heart hammers in rhythm with each fall of their gleaming heels. My dress sticks to my back, sweat trickling whisper-soft down the curve of my spine.
“Ebba,” a man’s voice says in my ear. He’s repeating some question, but the dance holds me fast.
Intriguing, atmospheric and, as so often happens with your writing, leaving me wanting to burrow myself into te story and find out more. Such delicious phrasing.
Deleteoh yes, this is superb writing. Loved it.
DeleteAtmospheric indeed. Another piece with a lot more happening than the word count seems to offer. The writers here are amazingly adept at these tiny stories, and you are a prime example.
DeleteThis simply oozed mystery and fascination. Love the image of being "bound by evanescent elastic." What an absolutely amazing submission.
DeleteThank you everyone! :)
DeleteInfinity 122.
ReplyDeleteTime be elastic, for we were becalmed under that full moon forever but which the log shows is no more than three days. I did question it with First Mate, who said it felt like forever to him too but his log showed the same. He agreed about the cook, said we could get a puppet to cook better meals so we vowed next port to get someone who knows how to proper feed us hungry sailors. Meantime this cap’n is content to be without the Creature whilst knowing anything else could come to take its place. God forbid.
A welcome stillness here, and optimism, even if only that they'll be eating better. Doubt it'll last over long.
DeleteThe Captain's words never fail to be insightful but not often tinged with possible promise for the future. I'm hoping that this is a reflection of your own aspirations at the moment. Not much else to say about this piece. It's brilliant, as always.
DeleteI dread to think what could come take the creature's place! Loved the line 'we were becalmed under that full moon forever' - very beautiful.
Deletecongratulations, Zaiure and Bill. Got in a little earlier this week, which is good, takes the pressure off of Thursday evenings... (LOL) rough week for weather, all else is settling, I believe. I've started doing readings again, that is, readings are coming in again. Someone somewhere blocked them whilst I was not capable of doing them, or so it seems. Now I am coming out the other side of the darkness (albeit with a torch) they have started to arrive again. My fourth this week arrived earlier today. It always boosts me, working that closely with spirit
ReplyDeleteWhich reminds me... I mentioned watching IT at the weekend. I asked if anyone wanted to watch it with me (traditionalists to a man, they like Morse and stuff like that, usually) and someone did come and sit with me. Said person was sending cold 'don't like it' chills through me BEFORE the scary bits in the film, acting as spoilers! The scary bits are supposed to be a surprise, aren't they???? So I watched 2 hours like that and held the 3rd hour over to Sunday, asked if they would please NOT give the scary bits away and they didn't...but really, just because they can see ahead...
Got to say Tim Curry makes the most evil scary clown ever. Joker? Forget it, see IT instead.
When it comes to clowns, the Tim Curry portrayal of Pennywise simply cannot be beat. However, in order to balance the horror associated with that, I always try to picture him as Dr. Frank-N-Furter as well....a totally different kind of horror! LOL.
DeleteThanks Antonia! I love when I get my piece done early as well. :) Sometimes the week passes so quickly and it's already Friday and I realize I never submitted anything!
DeleteNOTHING OWED, NOTHING NEW
ReplyDeleteDec, on a rare visit to Dunphy’s sat by himself, nursing shots. Four was his preset limit, but infrequent routine was elastic depending on his quandary. Vienna had him dancing like a puppet but that wasn’t his dilemma. Maybe he loved her. Aware she dabbled in witchcraft, he had known her a long time, and she wouldn’t need a charm to secure his affection, if that was what she wanted. He occasionally questioned how much he knew her at all. At this juncture, however, he wondered at his perturbation over Charlie’s disappearance. He didn’t actually owe the old guy anything.
You have the ability to make us see so deeply into the head, and lives, of each of your characters and this vignette is so vivid and easy on the imagination. I am keeping up with MudStones too, thank you.
DeleteYou are certainly a master at the art of the atmospheric. You also possess an uncanny ability to conjure images without overloading on descriptions. This was as impressive as always.
DeleteSandra and Patricia said it well - definitely have a good look into the character's head in this piece and love how you laid it out.
DeleteI wasn't sure I'd make it this week. Been very busy at work. A new play starting at the theater where I work. Lots of rehearsals and extra shifts for me. But hey, I'm here now. I wish I had time to write some comments, but I've read all the stories and I'm quite impressed. Lots of interesting and scary stuff. Always a pleasure to see what everyone comes up with.
ReplyDeleteThe Immortal 17
Sandie’s footsteps echoed down the hall. Sound became warped, the clicking of her heels faded, followed by darkness as I felt myself torn from this realm.
I felt like an elastic rubber band being stretched to bursting until I was flung into the abyss.
I sat at Death’s obsidian table, he stood over me, tall and forsaking. His bony hands held above my head, glittering strings leading to my limbs.
“Samuel, what do you think you’re doing?” The question was uttered from within the dark hood. “Don’t you realize that you are my puppet to do with as I please?”
Glad you made it Kai - and working in a theatre sounds a wonderful place for inspiration. This yet another rich in imagery - phrases such as "The question was uttered from within the dark hood" allowing imagination to soar.
DeleteThis is such an engaging serial. I too am delighted that you found the time to deliver another treat this week. There were so many superb images here that I'm hard to put to pick out just a couple, so I'm simply going to tar them all with the same brush.
DeleteI love when Death is used as a character, and enjoy your portrayal of him. Sandra called out my favorite line. :)
DeleteRunning late again - asking the muse to use all three words and write about my friend Tony is much harder work ;)
ReplyDeleteA Man's Best Friend
"You were recommended to me by Mr. Campagnolo as someone whose views on certain things are, let's say, elastic."
"Oh, is that so?" He wasn't wrong but that didn't make me like him any better.
"Well, it's what he meant. I'm looking for a friend, Tony. Can I call you Tony? An ally, not a puppet."
I knew exactly what he was looking for. And how much he'd pay for it.
"You know I'm a respectable businessman, and now I want to serve my city as mayor. My question is, would you want to help me with that, Tony?"
I enjoyed the dialogue and the narrator's thoughts in between. Curious to see where this is going. :)
DeleteThis was very fluid in nature, moving from dialogue to internal musings, as Zaiure pointed out. I love the "ally, not a puppet" line. Made me chuckle. Frankly, I'm glad I'm not the one making the winning decisions. Not sure I could come up with a definitive top scorer this week. Seems everyone found those three prompts quite inspirational..
DeleteSuch an excellent set-up in the opening line, and I agree with Zaiure and Patricia about the internal to external viewpoints.- lovely writing.
DeleteMaster Forley’s Occasional Travelling Circus
ReplyDeleteBehind the circus a child sat, staring into the gloom. A puppet lay crumpled in the mud, its head detached, the elastic string rent and dangling.
“Where do you belong child?” questioned Master Forley.
The child remained frozen. Master Forley reached out. As his hand brushed the child’s head, it toppled, landing in the mud, remnants of spinal cord rent and dangling.
Someday I'll post on time, but not this time.
DeleteIn a way, Rosie, I'm glad you did - I wouldn't have liked to read this before going to bed last night - imagery here far too disturbing! And late or not, you're very welcome.
Deleteyou said friend eyes? its great, its really nice Saudawala
ReplyDelete