Too easy? Lacking that level of trickiness, that
challenge, I spoke of last week? Whatever, it took me a very long time to come
up with anything, from three relatively straightforward prompts, that was even
part way to having the necessary level of impact, although everyone else seemed
to manage it superbly well!
Top of my list this week is Kai’s The Immortal – episode 24 already – but once again I – we – have had a wonderful week of
reading for which I thank you all. I’m also giving a mention to Rosie and to Bill,
whose last-arriving, but by no means least-accomplished, entries were so hugely entertaining – I urge
you to go back and read them.
Words for the coming week are: buckle, deficit, purple
Entries
by midnight Thursday January 21st,
new words and winners posted on Friday 22nd
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 Kai! And I enjoyed both Rosie and Bill's stories. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Sandra, Zaiure and Patricia. Also congrats to Rosie and Bill, great pieces.
DeleteLooks like we have some more good stories this week, as always. ;)
Worthy applause to Kai and a resounding well done to both Rosie and Bill.
ReplyDeleteKursaal (Episode Four) -- "Eli Cornelius"
ReplyDeleteOverseer and owner of the Pony Ride Paddock and Hoochie Coochie Tent, Eli Cornelius found the juxtaposition of innocent childhood delight and carnal adult entertainment to be amusing. His ledgers were always perfectly balanced. No discrepancies. No deficits. No shortfalls. Eli took great pride in his managerial skills.
The costumery of both prancing ponies and dancing divas was strikingly similar. Crystal buckles, purple feathers and sequined tassels. If anyone ever wondered why Eli's two troupes of performers could never been seen in the same place at the same time, the question was certainly never given voice.
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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/kursaal.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
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Oooo love the wordplay of this and that dangling hint at the end. I am most intrigued with Kursaal so far!
DeleteReading this felt like being offered a box of chocolates - these the ones for today, but the promise of so many more to come well-nigh unbearable. And each so beautifully word-wrapped!
Deletedefinitely building into something quite extraordinary.
DeleteThis is such a colourful piece. The pacing is so quick and punchy!
DeleteNot a Stitch [5]
ReplyDeleteIt was a wet, bone-cold day when Luke took Morgan to visit the Queen. Both stopped abruptly upon entering her tent, and for a moment the only sound was the steady drip of water from their weather-spelled coats.
“I’d known she had a mind deficit, but…” Morgan’s low voice trailed off.
“There you are,” the Queen said, slapping irritably at her flustered maids, who were vainly attempting to shield her. The tall woman had not a stitch of clothing, save an empty scabbard buckled around her waist. “How are my soldiers?”
Morgan arched a brow. “Clothed, Queen Fiaena."
Once again, a hugely-intriguing, scene-setting opening sentence - lovely stuff!
DeleteThis was totally delightful from start to finish. I just adore that final statement from Morgan. And the title was so appropriate too. Luverly stuff!
Deletethis is good, cleverly done, creating images that linger.
DeleteThe perfect ending line. Loved it.
DeleteLosses
ReplyDeleteDemian’s lips thinned, nearly disappearing beneath the monstrous mustache shadowing his upper lip, as he made a mark in the ledger. “This adds to the deficit, you understand.”
“I can’t control the weather,” Raina said heatedly, fingers twitching towards the shock-rod buckled across her hip.
“No, but Teltharian can, and he was buried between your legs at the time.” He eyed her, sniffing when Raina didn’t blush.
“I told you it was too dangerous to travel,” Raina said, purple eyes smoldering. “People died because you are too cheap to replace our shields!”
“Careful, girl! Selling you would solve many problems.”
Truly sets my mind spinning, somehow psychedelic in its impact, and definitively addictive.
DeleteSuch a very interesting piece with the prompts completely lost within the text. As Sandra noted, the impact of the words and composition packs quite a punch.
Deletea whole scenario set up ready to go. Of itself it's a great read, with the potential for so many pathways this could go.
DeleteThis isn't a story - it's a keyhole into a marvellous magical world - where's the key?
DeleteChange of focus [161]
ReplyDeleteThe oldest-known whore on his patch, florid and be-whiskered as willow-herb, wrapped against winter in purple fur, but all too evidently knickerless, had been dead long enough for some rat to make up the protein deficit in its diet.
Constable Henry Moth, called by the pub landlord who’d found her when he checked the back yard prior to locking up, phoned it in, summoning SOCOs and CID.
DI John Pettinger, by dint of being nearby, arrived first, ‘Someone given her a belting?’ he asked, testing the constable’s observational skills.
Henry’s torch illuminated the buckle. ‘Yes sir, tightly, round her neck.'
Very reminiscent of a murder mystery, with the reader getting to see the clues alongside the characters. :) Despite the gruesome picture painted, loved the phrase 'florid and be-whiskered as willow-herb'.
DeleteZaiure, thank you - but I know for a fact my game was upped on reading your and Patricia's posts first.
DeleteOh my goodness. The imagery here is exquisite and such inspired use of the prompts...in particular, the unique use of "belting." That first paragraph is, as is sometimes said, "All that and a bag of chips!"
Deleteoh yes... now Pettinger has more on his plate. I could almost feel sorry for him ... almost... but not quite.
DeleteNicely twisted turn here. The dialogue was particularly good.
DeleteMisquoting Othello [Threshold 97]
ReplyDeleteBlack skin does not purple with bruises as does white: damage evident in the seep of still-glistening blood. The care with which he did not move.
Unable to discern whether sneering hostility was he thought me come to gloat, I tried to signal that my need for him suffered no deficit for his abandoning me.
Harshly, he ground out, ‘I’d feared to be thought toad... but would not keep thee in a corner now, if you –‘
Recognising the source, interpreting it as declaration of a future, my knees buckled in relief. I gripped Burk’s father’s arm, and whispered ‘Yes.
Such fascinating characters! Very well phrased first sentence, and loved the description of his voice - 'harshly, he ground out'.
DeleteFascinating indeed. Beautifully put together. I'm really hard pushed to single out one specific gem, so I'll just consider the whole thing a jewel.
DeleteI'm with Patricia, nothing stands out, it's the whole instalment as one piece which is so good.
DeleteYou've definitely got a grip on your creation here. Killer opening.
DeleteThe immortal 25
ReplyDeleteI buckled under her glare. “I’m immortal. Have been for some time, thanks to him. He threatened to not bring me back, once I die again, if I don’t kill you.”
I don’t know what made me speak those words aloud. Sandie would see my selfishness as a deficit in character.
Her lips twitched up into a smile. “You are afraid. Egocentric, not caring for others, but willing to do anything to survive. You don’t deserve a second chance, but I will grant you one. This purple mark on your hand will keep you safe from Death for one day.”
Ooh - what a sneaky - and clever - escape! But obviously, I want to know what he's able to do in that one day.
DeleteI'm also very curious what he's going to do with himself!
DeleteLike Zaiure, I am extremely curious as to what will be done with that one day safe from the clutches of Death. That's some power there and could be utilized in so many different ways. This is a fascinating serial.
Deletethis serial is walking all sorts of devious pathways, as they all twist and turn to take advantage of the situation. Kai, loving this!
DeleteVery interesting - an immortal who's grown fearful of death. I like it!
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 29-Suggestions And Substitutes
ReplyDeleteClive Bailey's extremities were turning purple. The bonds restricting his wrists and ankles seemed to tighten with every passing moment. He had been propped against the back wall of the Canteen while the Station Master peered over Violet's shoulder as she balanced her books.
"Rather large deficit in that column," he remarked.
"Price of butter," stammered the waitress. "It has risen considerably since..."
"Then we must buckle down," encouraged the Station Master. "Cut corners, if necessary."
His breath was hot on her neck. "Find a cheaper substitute," he cautioned. "Or I shall be forced to find a substitute for you."
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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 - really nasty insinuations going on here! I love how you manoeuvre your many characters.
DeleteDangerous for many characters this week! I love how you balance delightful, beautiful scenes, with the darker underbelly of their world.
Deletethis is a fantastic instalment, smouldering menace and actual harm going on with poor Clive's extremities fit to be falling off... good one!
DeleteChilling scene. Lovely villainy.
DeletePayback
ReplyDeleteHer skirt was tight and short, but still dignified. Chiffon blouse, sheer and silky. Purple stillettos matched the silver-buckled belt.
On a good night, she could nail five or six, but even one would appease the deficit deep in her heart. The rules were simple. Nobody under thirty and no average Joes. She targeted affluent types. Executives who wanted their women sexy with a touch of class. In short, men like Phillip.
She called herself Eve. Just Eve. Wearing the face of a beautiful avenging angel, she embarked on another evening of personal punishment and original sin.
Payback was hell.
Oh, wow! (And I'm in the middle of writing a scene of a brothel raid!) This carries such a punch, and near-invisible prompts.
Deleteoh good one, with a simple 3 line killer ending, too. Brilliantly done.
DeleteA compelling, richly-woven scene. Always fascinated by your characters. :)
DeleteA ton of inner turmoil in such a short space. Good sense of character.
DeleteInfinity 130.
ReplyDeleteI have it. Tis purple, didn’t expect that but still… as long as it works. Now I have to buckle down, get it dried and get it scattered. There be a deficit of spare bodies to donate to the Devil’s spawn so it has to work. Meantime… the fair wind I asked for was sent by God’s own hand so this here cap’n should be thinking of offering up a few prayers of thanks. Just might do that when I be on watch this night. Tis only fair, after all, looks like He’s smiled on this renegade servant of His.
Unaccustomed optimism for the Captain. I can hear him muttering to himself. see him creep up on deck in a little while. This is a truly solid episode.
DeleteI hope it works as well! Loved the phrase 'renegade servant'. :)
Delete"It has to work ... " so much weight in those three words. Excellent writing.
DeleteAs Sandra put it so aptly, our Captain appears to be displaying an unusual sprinkling of optimism in this installment. Another lovely weaving of the prompts, as always. I'm always amazed that you can find such fitting uses given the scenario (a ship at sea) that you could so easily have pigeon-holed yourself into.
ReplyDeleteLessons unlikely to be learned
ReplyDeleteAt sixty, my future a buckled promise of peaceful sunshine, striped with oases of shimmering cool water. Time to read, to please myself. I contemplated, like Jenny Joseph’s poem, the pleasures of wearing purple, a scarlet hat askew; of drinking whisky at whatever time of day, without condemnation, and doing all those things Life so far had not allowed the time for.
A quarter of a century later I know, despite the ever-encroaching deficit of sense, of once intelligence, that future to have been no more than mirage, false promise, having forgot to factor in the failings of my body.
Such a melancholy statement on the manner in which advancing years can encroach upon a person's dreams. This was so eloquent.
Delete“Is it bad that my belly button is turning purple?” I asked.
ReplyDelete“The buckle is clasped a little too far down,” replied the clerk. “Makes you look amazing, though.” On the word amazing, she leaned in and, in the mirror, I caught a glimpse of something I shouldn’t be looking at.
I did some mental budgeting. These pants and belt represented the end of my “luxury” spending for some time.
“Ooh, how about this shirt, too?” she added, holding it in front of my chest, her somethings pressed against my back.
“Okay,” I whispered, and decided to run a deficit.
Such fun trying to calculate their respective ages, and how cleverly you've balanced their conversation - an intriguing vignette.
DeleteThis was clever and disarming and so humourous. I have a feeling that saleslady is angling for a higher commission.
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #8
ReplyDeleteMusical Troubles, or Can You Spare a Nyckel (harpa)?
Dear Rosebud,
You know how there’s that stubborn buckle on my nyckelharpa case? Well, yesterday it flat out refused to open. Right before a gig too! I had to borrow my little sister’s sparkly purple nyckelharpa instead. Dad keeps promising to make me an entirely new one, but the forest luthier is forcing him into a wood deficit. Maybe she’ll relent and I’ll get a new nyckelharpa for my eighteenth birthday. Will you be home then?
Sincerely,
Abby
P.S. What’s this about a vacation? We’re in school all summer and I’ve a job now.
PATRICIA - Sincere apologies - in deleting Rosie's duplicate post I've also, stupidly, deleted your comment on it. Luckily it's in the notifying email, and I've copied it here: As always, such a unique style from anything else submitted. This is an enchanting little serialization.
ReplyDeleteAnd, Rosie, I can only echo Patricia's words. And thank you for a new word: luthier