I suppose with a word like virgin not everyone would
confine themselves to cooking oil ... and just eight entries, but truly, in my
view, every one a winner, on every level I (unscientifically) judge them on -
quality and joyousness of writing, inspired use of the prompts, strength of the
voices used and 100% entertainment. From the pragmatism of Kai’s Samuel, through
Patricia’s tuning-peg and star signs, Bill’s
beleaguered Tony, and the need for sacrificial virgins, Antonia’s despondent Captain and Zaiure’s spell-casters – and Rosie’s feisty Princess Pirate #3, sneaking
in at the end.
Not from idleness, but an inability to separate, I confess I cannot pick one above the rest this week and ask you – which would YOU choose? – and I thank you one and all for the pleasure of a week of
winners.
Words for the coming week are: pitch, reason, smudge
Entries
by midnight Thursday December 17th,
new words and winners posted on Friday 18th
I would have been hard pushed to select a winner this week also, Sandra, and have no problem in regarding each entry as a winner in its own right (write...?) Hopefully, the three prompts for this week will prove equally as inspirational. On a personal level at the moment, I have nothing. ::::sigh::::
ReplyDeleteYour sighs don't over-concern me Patricia - when have you failed to come up trumps? But sometimes the prompts do take a little time to fit into shape.
DeleteChange of focus [158]
ReplyDeleteVanessa’s sense of the sartorial was such that Pettinger avoided posh. Even Wigan Warriors would baulk at pitching up in today’s wide-striped rugby top, and though he looked for remorse he wasn’t confident smudged mascara indicated tears.
Maddening, not exactly bad, demanding (often him, in her bed) he couldn’t say he’d ever loved her, but had no real reason to dislike or condemn. Until now.
‘Eight dead, two minus limbs, five scarred beyond beauty – and all for Zak, product of a cop-out crook and a crooked cop. Jack’s taking him back to Australia. I suggest you go too.’
'”Suggest”?’
‘Insist.’
Loved the phrase 'he wasn't confident smudged mascara indicated tears'.
Deleteyes, that line conjures up so much! good episode, Sandra!
DeleteBeautifully constructed piece with wonderful imagery. That reference to Wigan Warriors was inspired.
DeleteI fancy myself more aware of British culture than most Americans, having grown up on the Goon Show and Doctor Who, but I had to Google 'Wigan Warriors'. Now I'm wondering whose rubbish tip Pettinger rummaged through to find that shirt...
DeletePerfect Image
ReplyDeleteThe reflection in the full-length mirror pitched and tossed but Sheila reasoned that was probably due as much to lack of balance as anything else. She had, after all, been morbidly and distressingly lopsided her entire life.
Tears mingled with smudges from bloodied fingertips as she pierced the already serrated flesh of her abdomen. The point of the blade quivered and then perfected the incision.
Perhaps another slice or two would produce the desired sylphlike effect.
You are so good at evoking personally-inflicted horror which invades the reader's senses. Lovely use of the prompts.
DeleteChilling and sad. Exquisite phrasing in the first paragraph.
Deletejust how horrific is that???? superb entry this week!
DeleteAll the worse because of a sense that yes, it could actually happen.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 25-Compliments And Confinements
ReplyDeleteViolet wiped smudges of scarlet from the rim of a chipped white mug.
"Revolting," she grimaced.
The Station Master propelled the loaded trolley toward the rear of the Canteen.
"Those who possess natural beauty have no reason to employ such shameless methods of enhancement," he told the waitress with an approving wink.
Violet's cheeks flushed, matching the smears left by the offending lipstick.
Clive Bailey struggled against the restrictive leather straps. He sensed the presence of indistinct shadows lurking in the doorway and as the old station clock struck the hour, the cloying stench of pitch assaulted his nostrils.
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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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You manoeuvre your cast of characters so adeptly, smoothly inserting prompt words where they least show, and in such a visual manner, too. Lovely episode.
DeleteSandra said it perfectly. :) Really loved this piece! It's full of beautiful, evocative phrasing and I loved how you tied together the lipstick smudge with Violet's blush.
Deletethis is clever, and I think every instalment is clever... this excels.
DeleteDismiss that dishwasher immediately ;)
DeleteRound 3 [Threshold 93]
ReplyDeleteOn the point of penetration a wave of revulsion swept over me such as should have pitched him off. That it didn’t, meant I needed to fight dirty. That he had reason to believe himself the victor meant, for vital moments, I gained the upper hand. And used it; nails and knuckles.
His scream – which, for pride, he’d’ve preferred unheard – would not have shamed a castrato.
Tumbling from the bed, limbs still entwined, we toppled a candelabra. Smudge of smoke a momentary olfactory pleasure; spatter of hot wax as I seized and smashed it, an unpleasantly tangible one for him.
Tight, absorbing scene with our narrator coming out the victor. Loved the cleverness of the final line. Every week I wait impatiently for the next piece! :)
DeleteThank you Zaiure - it's taken me two days to remember that the word I meant, which I knew wasn't 'tangible' exactly, was 'tactile'.
Deletethis I like, so many images here to think about, not least the sting of the hot wax!
DeleteNice dose of action here. As happens many times, I was hard put to even find the prompts first time around. This conjures some truly amazing images. Hopefully, the next installment will follow rapidly on the heels of next week's prompts.
DeleteI also would be unable to choose a winner. Loved all the varied stories! :)
ReplyDeleteThere Will Be War
ReplyDeletePitch black eyes studied him from beneath a lace-edged hood, as large flakes of snow kissed his eyelashes and slipped down his collar. He couldn't say if Morgan was pleased or troubled to see him, the line of her mouth merely straight, without hint of either direction. Raising a gloved hand, she smudged the freckles of blood on his cheek, and made an ambiguous sound in her throat, as she eyed the remnants of violence on his coat.
"I had my reasons," she said. Was there regret in her eyes?
"There will be war."
"He left me no choice."
This is a prime example of your ability to create intriguing characters in want-to-know-more-about situations. Your use of not the obvious words such as 'troubled', 'remnants' and 'ambiguous' allied to the final statement are things I'd hope to remember to emulate in my writing.
Deletethis generates so many questions which can only be answered next week ... infuriating! brilliantly infuriating at that.
DeleteThis was quite exquisite. So many nuggets of perfection that I'm hard pushed to select just one and frankly, I don't think I'm going to try or I'd just end up quoting the entire piece.
DeleteI'm going file away 'remnants of violence' and pull it out again at the right time, a perfect way to get the point across without being explicit. Making it all the worse, of course.
DeleteThis Little Light
ReplyDeleteThe holding enclosure was about the size of a football pitch. Its inhabitants eagerly awaited the annual selection process. There often appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the choices made, but hopes ran high for making the team.
One optimist had decided to tilt the odds in his favor a little this particular year. It had taken him all night, but Rudy had been very careful not to disturb slumbers and finally managed to smudge the glow from the noses of the other red-nosed reindeer.
Santa facing sabotage, eh? Wicked stuff.
DeleteFun holiday inspired piece! Rudy sounds very sneaky. ;) Loved your title.
Deletethat's clever!
Delete"He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake." If I were Rudy I'd step carefully...
DeleteMaking tracks
ReplyDeleteRailway sleepers, by the heft of them, the original pitch with which they’d been impregnated sticky enough to hold the half century of boiler-ash deposited thereon; now rough as emery boards, fit to remove heel skin of an ill-shod giant.
To lacerate the skin covering the nubbles of her spine.
All the more painful when movement, though banned, was inevitable. Because, despite being anchored at ankle, wrist and neck, each time the star-sharp spur tip-tied to his whip stroked another red dot contour line along the length of her, she flinched. Even knowing every smudge therefrom earned her another lash.
that's just plain evil, Sandra! cold calculating evil!
DeleteVery imaginative and well-written and horrible.
DeleteI can only echo what has gone before....evil, imaginative, well-written and horrible. I believe though, I'll add an additional comment of my own...delicious!
DeleteWell, that's disturbing on levels that I don't even want to think about, much less write down. I can imagine too many possible frameworks for this particular scene and all of them are frightening.
DeleteInfinity 126.
ReplyDeleteDamn sea be pitching the Infinity every which way this eve, I be in danger of smudging my entry. There be a reason why I can’t leave it, some things be too important to leave to another merciless day on the sea. There be sommat on the ship and it baint the Creature. I have no choice but to write here, for anyone who might find it in later years, be I over the side or whatever, that it be the spawn of the Creature. And there’s me thinking it be male. Seems I be getting old… or something.
Ah ... another round of peril for the Captain, and this so vivid I amost feel seasick. Superb opening line.
DeleteThe plot thickens yet again! Loved the phrasing of the first line, and looking forward to what the spawn will do next!
DeleteThis was gorgeously written. I feel our Captain is falling deeper into contemplation and no little sorrow. This has almost a fatalistic tone. Beautiful incorporation of the prompts. The entries this week comprise yet another round of outstanding creativity.
DeleteI can picture the lantern swinging wildly and making the words shift and dance as he writes...
DeleteThe Immortal 21
ReplyDeleteI watched Sandie for the next couple of days, keeping my distance. She was beautiful, my forbidden fruit.
Death did not summon me back, seemingly pleased with my course of action.
When the day came, I waited till it was dark. On her way home, she passed by an alley, where I lurked. I grabbed her and shoved her to the ground.
Aghast, her beautiful lips parted, releasing a high-pitched scream. Covering her mouth, I smudged her makeup. She was breathing hard, a tear rolling down her cheek.
I had my reasons. It had to be done. Now or never.
Yes, but ... did he, or didn't he? Relent?
DeleteLoved the pacing and way you laid out the ending of the scene (excellent description!), leaving us not knowing what he chose.
DeleteAnd...and...? Guess we're going to have to wait to find out, darnnitt! As Zaiure noted, amazing pacing in this entry and everything just rolled along like a well-oiled wheel. What a wealth of talent doth show up in this forum every week.
DeleteDeath set him up, I have a feeling this latest development is setting us up for another twist...
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #4
ReplyDeleteA New Friend
One of those Greeks had acquired an Underwood typewriter. I’ve decided to keep it. Natasha seems to like it already. She informed me the typewriter’s name is India and she’d like a good cleaning. Apparently smudges of grease and rust splashes from that pitching ship are not comfortable attire.
“Natasha slow down! I can’t read the semaphore flags that fast!”
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India is a very quiet little typewriter. The reason, she said, was the Greeks had scared her margin bell away and then stolen her paper table off her back. Her ink smudged while she typed her story. Poor little Indy.
Typewriters and semaphore flags - lovely originality! AND you squeaked in before midnight.
DeleteFun, entertaining piece. Love the narrator's tone and the inclusion of the typewriter.
DeleteBobby, my boy, what am I gonna do with you?
ReplyDeleteBobby had to see Caprezi, beg forgiveness and pledge his love for Kate. Actual love didn't matter; the ongoing threat of becoming a smudge on the sole of Caprezi's Italian loafers was a great reason to work on the relationship.
Caprezi and I had history but he was all smiles until Bobby came in. I warned the kid he should open with his best sales pitch. Then the old man asked what him and Kate had been doing. The speech was first-class; the blushing did him in. Still, he's young and it's only gonna be a couple weeks in traction.
Time and again I find myself thinking your posts equate to a full chapter of a novel - so very much love the voice in this.
DeleteSometimes they're as long as a full chapter before I start cutting! This one was 160 words on the first pass, if I recall correctly. This week I liked the prompt words but for some reason I didn't find a path to the story until very, very late. I'll try to do better ;)
DeleteI agree with Sandra, love the narrator's voice. Final line was perfection. :)
Delete