New carpets and re-decorating, I’ve had a week of put and
take, of shifting furniture and throwing out ‘stuff;’ accumulated over some thirty
years. I’ve similarly tried to put in
order this week’s ten less-than-dulcet tales, and found it harder to jettison
any of them than I have decades of accumulated leaflets. But since I have to, I’ve
allocated first place to William for
his last-arriving, and poignant, ‘Last Orders’, second place to Kai, for his twenty-seventh episode of ‘Immortal’,
and third to tinysmallfry for ‘Diva
scorned’ but, as usual, and no less sincerely, thank you all for participating
so fully and to all of our enjoyment.
Words
for the coming week are: cloud, quiver, remain
Entries by
midnight Thursday 11th February new
words and winners posted on Friday 12th
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.
Woah! What a brilliant start to my day. Congratulations also to Kai and tinysmallfry. It's been a tough few weeks balancing work and the things I love to do, that I nearly didn't make the deadline. The real win for me is that I get to read such fine writing from everyone else, will try to comment a bit more this week.
ReplyDeleteCongrats William! Excellent poetry. :) And congrats to Kai and tinysmallfry as well. :)
DeleteCongrats to William for a fine first place and to Kai for taking second. I'm totally stoked that I got placed at all with such fine writing going on here, thanks for letting me join in. Now the new words.
DeleteMany congratulations to last week's winners. The quality of writing here just gets better and more creative all the time.
Deletecongratulations William and everyone for class writing again! And thank you for the feedback on the Captain's tale. We have a way to go yet before he docks at Shipton once again.
ReplyDeleteThank you Antonia, I'm looking forward to reading of the Captain's tale
DeleteApologies for this one, but the first stanza tumbled out of me.
ReplyDeleteThe day that Cupid lost his power.
Narcissa pouted at her selfiestick, and to make those matters worse,
She was at a funeral, as the driver of a hearse.
Balanced on a cloud, cupid witnessed her conceit
His laughter made it hard to remain upon his seat.
With such cachinnation, he eventually came a cropper.
Cupid landed on the hearse, there was no one left to stop her.
Her vanity bade her, “pinch the arrows from cupid’s quiver.”
She promptly stuck them up her arse narrowly missing her liver.
The morale of this tale isn’t very pretty,
Don’t go seeking love with an arrow that is shitty.
Inelegant snort from me, William, closely followed by admiration, especially for the rhyme of 'quiver' and 'liver'. Now I must go and look up cachinnation.
DeleteVery clever rhyming and I admit I laughed and cringed. :) I also had to look up cachinnation haha.
DeleteThis was so witty and wonderful. It reminded me a little of a limerick, although of course it's not really the same....just reminiscent. It's difficult enough to compose something that makes sense in a story when there are limitations, let alone having it rhyme as well. You have an enviable talent, sir.
Deletewhat fun! and what clever use of the prompts!
DeleteChange of focus [165]
ReplyDeleteAs ever, what little public sympathy was voiced about the death of a well-worn working girl was vicious as a cloud of midges, and, from women, just as biting.
Such was the quivering indignation issuing from the snap-dragon mouth of one wife – ‘That Dolly Drop-drawers, no better than she should be!’ – that Pettinger involuntarily wondered whether another of her orifices was as vitriolic; in which case no blame if her husband sought comfort elsewhere.
DC Henry Moth reported. ‘Couple of house-to-house visits remaining, but landlord gave us a nod there’s a bloke in the pub wearing a brand new belt.
I'm loving this some brilliant turns of phrase in there, that paint the scene. my favourites are "Snap-Dragon mouth" and "Dolly Drop-Drawers"
Delete"Dolly Drop-Drawers" was the name given to a woman in the Hertfordshire village I lived as a child, due to her enthusiasm for entertaining the US air force based there.
DeleteIt reminded me of the gossip that used to take place when my mum had the ladies round for morning coffee.
DeleteYes; I barely remember the lady herself, just her half-caste (is one allowed to say that now?) son who was a year or so older than me and, more strongly, the tone in which my mother referred to her!
DeleteI agree with William, excellent phrasing! He picked out my two favorites as well. :)
DeleteI also remember various people being given names which would no longer be acceptable today. In particular, I recall an individual from my childhood who was known as "Silly Jim," so "Dolly Drop-Drawers" would fit in well. This was quite brilliant and came complete with such an atmospheric feel. It is current and yet period at the same time. No easy feat, but one you make seem simple.
Deletethis was a delight to read, nicknames and all. Brilliant.
DeleteA Vitriolic Orifice! A shudderingly brilliantly horrific image.
DeleteSo. I sat down this morning to finish off a piece I started a couple of weeks ago in a Hotel in Calder Bridge, and noticed that the three prompt words cleared up the block I was having.
ReplyDeleteMeditations on Blencathra
Misty rain to match my mood,
envelopes this mighty peak.
My pack is heavy like life's burdens.
I reach the top but feeling weak.
The cloud clears and I can see the river
my mood lifts, and my senses start to quiver.
No longer bothered by the rain
Up here on Blencathra I shall remain
For once the world is bigger than me,
and my problems shrivelled to nought.
Out here in the open spaces I can breath,
and gain clarity of thought.
The next time black dogs upon me creep
I will remember Blencathra, and breath deep.
I'm not one for climbing hills - get my relief from east coach beaches - though this tells it like it is.
DeleteLoved this, especially the last two lines and what they evoke. Enjoying all your poetry. :)
DeleteAnd this one is descriptively lovely in contrast to the one which went before, which was far more amusing in content. It reminded of certain works by John Keats. It had that type of aura about it. Well done.
Deletedelicate, deep thoughts, combined with imagery. Nice one.
Delete[Threshold 100]
ReplyDeleteAt night a ceaselessly murmuring river promised escape.
But to what?
Alert to Ravenscar’s every breath I’d tried to determine whether anything remained of his apparent promise of a mutual future. As little, it seemed, as his response to my handling his body: washing, drying, applying balm and re-bandaging patently failing to elicit the merest quiver of desire.
Was it only under threat of death he valued me?
Burk’s father’s insistence he came too, initially clouding my gladness at departure, might be better welcomed, since it occurred to me he’d rescued Ravenscar merely to exact his own variety of revenge.
Brilliantly phrased first line, very beautiful. And very intrigued by the final line!
DeleteThis serial is always so thought-provoking and so classic in many ways. How you manage to weave the scenario so expertly week after week is truly a mystery to me and the complexity is outstanding.
DeleteThank you! Wanting to make this 100th episode notable I found myself truly mired, and it took a lot of writing to get me out of it. And, Patricia, you are far from a slouch at seamless serials yourself.
Deleteit is an outstanding episode, bringing all the prompts together in a seamless elegant way.
DeleteAs a late arrival to the party, this piece exudes tight writing. I sense a hurt tenderness, the quiet before the storm?
DeleteThe first line pervades through the whole piece like an echo. Which for me made this so evocative.
DeleteGrounded
ReplyDeleteIt was the perfect evening for an aerial adventure. Full moon. No clouds.
The precious powder had been cut with the pollen from saffron and a sprinkling of fine white sand. What remained was decidedly unstable.
Wings quivering with delight, Tinkerbell watched Wendy spiral into free fall.
Wicked and sparkling with mischief, the ending delicious.
DeleteTink Spiking the pixie dust, I love it, always new she had a dark side.
DeleteLove this fresh take on Tinkerbell, and the first line is perfect. :)
Deletelove twists on old stories, this is excellent!
DeleteI love this, but I know a little girl who would be most displeased. You have surfaced bad Tink so perfectly.
DeleteAfter the flood: checking for damage
ReplyDeleteWhat remained of flesh was blackened, quivering and iridescent beneath a living lace of flies. They had arrived within seconds of my prising open the dank and swollen rough-cut plank which topped the makeshift coffin. Departed just as swiftly in a cloud of saw-toothed malevolence.
I envied them their lack of memory.
And of conscience.
"A living lace of flies." You have officially broken William Davoll. I am so creeped out right now I'm lost for words.
DeleteCreepy, dark, brilliant. Love your descriptions and how you've managed to describe something so horrific in such a darkly beautiful way. 'Saw-toothed malevolence' is so perfect.
DeleteThe imagery of this assaults the senses from the initial sentence. I do believe I physically grimaced as I read on...and I mean that in the most flattering sense possible. Like William, I am thoroughly taken with a "living lace of flies." <:::::shudder:::::>
Deleteend to end creepy, startling images that are hard to shift...
DeleteTender is the Night
ReplyDeleteThe lightest touch of his fingers made me quiver yet again. He shook, too, for different reasons. Looking up at the clouds, covering then revealing the moon like a burlesque curtain, I knew I’d not forget these moments shared.
“I didn’t realize,” he started, but could not finish.
“Hush, love. It was meant to be a surprise.”
He rolled closer, sweat beading on his forehead. “I’d have done it anyway.”
That earned him another kiss. “I know. Your kind always do.”
I rose. He remained, blank eyes yet content, as I licked his lifeblood from the corner of my mouth.
Good to hear from you, Rebecca - and this as slyly evil as ever. I especially like the "burlesque curtain".
DeleteRebecca, I can't shake this image out of my mind. I may have to wear a kevlar scarf to sleep this evening. Brilliant writing.
DeleteGlad to have you back! I loved how this unfurled with the surprise at the end. Sandra picked out my favorite phrase as well - 'the moon like a burlesque curtain'.
DeleteAt the risk of sounding like a broken record, I too was particularly impressed with the "moon like a burlesque curtain" phrasing. Unique take on an otherwise overdone theme. Shame not all such tales could come with a similarly fresh approach.
DeleteSO good to see you here again! Gorgeous story in every way, you've not lost one iota of your skills.
DeleteLove the phrase "He remained, blank eyes but content" wickedly chilling.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 32-Red Queen Redux
ReplyDeleteIn the Waiting Room, the situation remained at an impasse.
"Your sister's judgment is severely clouded," advised the Grande Dame. "To insinuate that I...." Her many chins quivered with indignation.
Realizing he had been overlooked, Christopher furtively relieved the Grande Dame of the Red Queen and crept toward the door which, courtesy of an orange paw, opened silently as he tiptoed closer. Forgotten and unseen, he slipped outside. Marmalade purred a greeting, tilting his head for a welcome scratch behind the ears before leading the way to the Canteen.
The purloined piece safe in his pocket once more, Christopher followed.
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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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Such smoothly insinuated prompts - like Marmalade slithering through a door. A profoundly satisfying episode this, Patricia, thank you.
DeleteLoved Marmalade's assistance in this. Such a fascinating and fun feline character! :)
Deletebeing ultra aware of my daughter's two 'rescue' cats, I can see the superb logic of Marmalade's antics in this great serial.
DeleteYou had me at "Her Many Chins quivered with indignation" announces her self indulgence and grandeur.
DeleteI'm loving this feline. I'm not normally a cat person, but a local stray has adopted me, and we share afternoons staring at each other through the window as I type my mad ramblings. Guess I'm a cat person after all. She would love this as much as I do.
DeleteKursaal (Episode Seven) -- "Roxanne Huntley"
ReplyDeleteThe Skyward Merry-Go-Round with its cloud chariots, flying dragons and winged pegasi was located in the very heart of the Midway. Initially slated to be one of a handful of free amusements, Maximillian Corviday had decreed that Skyward remain the sole complimentary attraction.
Regardless, Roxanne Huntley, diehard misandrist, elected to charge male patrons when fancy struck. The engaging green-eyed operator with auburn ringlets met no resistance on such occasions and could manoeuvre the ride from intoxicating speed to quivering standstill in a mere millisecond.
The chosen, however, were rarely the same after being subjected to Roxanne's expert manipulation.
---------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
Ooh - Roxanne another wonderfully vivid character added to the cast of this Kursaal tale. And what a useful word is "misandrist".
DeleteSuch a clever piece with excellent wordplay. ;) I laughed out loud. Loved her description.
Deletefor me it was the 'winged pegasi' - such a clever way of bringing them in. Good instalment, lots of intrigue going on here.
DeleteI have come back to this a couple of times since 30 minutes after you posted it.
DeleteEach time unable to comment because this is so jaw dropingly, typing fingers stopingly brilliant. I am shit scared of heights, but had an unusual experience in Duinrell Holland that led me to a merry go round swing thing with fountains. This took me back and then some. I'm Awestruck.
A Diva Scorned (2)
ReplyDeleteThe cold no longer registered in his mind, nor that he was naked, and couldn’t move. The only thing he was constantly aware of was the water droplet quivering just above him. Clinically placed so it struck him squarely on the temple and as it rolled away into his eyes the next one readied to launch. An endless dripping queue that clouded his judgement. He tried to drift within and lose himself for his own protection, but each drip slapped him back to the present. With the final drop he shattered, like the swirling lights from the mirror ball.
Chilling, in several senses of the word, the naked vulnerability precisely evoked. I suspect this is going to get nastier.
DeleteA slow, steady torture. Loved how you phrased the final line - 'he shattered, like the swirling lights from the mirror ball'.
DeleteMagnificent. Reminded me of something that Poe might have written. If I were an artist, I would be sorely tempted to transfer that final line onto canvas. It would make for an amazing picture.
Deleteclever choice of words invokes a horrific picture. I doubt many give serious thought to the horrors of the water torture.
DeleteA challenging week for me with word crafting. Tired of fiddling with this piece, so just going to release it. :)
ReplyDeleteStorm [8]
“He’s trying to goad me into attacking,” Morgan said, irritably, as she prowled before her desk. She’d summoned Luke from her bath, taking only enough time to throw on a gray robe that clung distractingly to her damp skin.
“Perhaps he wants to draw you out of camp.”
“My thought as well.” She paused, hands resting on her hips. “He wants the Queen. But why now?”
The ground quivered beneath their feet, followed by the patter of rain from unseen storm clouds above. Morgan’s eyes widened. “She’s a Storm-Speaker!”
“I thought none remain.”
“Apparently the Council lied. Explains Fiaena’s behavior.”
I struggled with these prompts too, for Threshold. Am envious of your sparingly effective use of adjectives - "irritably" and "distractingly" - andno fiddling apparent. Thank you Zaiure.
DeleteAnd so the tale moves forward in a most wonderful manner. Whatever "fiddling" you did worked to perfection, Zaiure. Strangely, like both you and Sandra, I also found this week's selection of words to create something of a struggle. You wouldn't have thought so since none are particularly difficult in and of themselves but for me, I had trouble working them into a coherent theme. Weird that the more diverse and/or unusual prompts are often easier to work with.
DeleteI think prompts need to have an element of awkwardness to challenge; offer something to get one's teeth into. I'll make sure future ones possess this quality.
Deletegood one, lots of imagery and taking the story ever onward.
DeleteA storm Speaker! I love it. as Antonia said brilliant Imagery.
DeleteOh my goodness does this idea have legs, I think you've struck gold. I'm minded of Kate Bush Cloud busting.
DeleteRemnant
ReplyDeleteSaya pours the spiced honey in a slow spiral into the earthen cup. Every movement is careful, meant to soothe the terror-stricken man sitting across from us at the table. Smiling gently, she places the sweetened tea between his work-scarred palms and seats herself beside me, calming my quivering fingers with her hand.
His round eyes flick to me, then back to Saya, undoubtedly unnerved further by my cloudy, silver-white eyes.
“She can fix this?” He taps his temple and shivers.
“Yes,” Saya says. “She is the most gifted Dreamwalker in Althascar.”
I swallow. No, I’m all that remains.
I've been reading Manda Scott recently; started with her crime ones then to her Boudica series. You have an equal ability to create atmospheres of unknown worlds and make them vivid. As so often with your writing I wish this were part of a novel I could lose myself in.
ReplyDeleteThis was so "other-wordly" in many respects. Beautiful descriptions and the type of tale in which both the imagination and the senses can delight.
Deletecloudy silver-white eyes? magical.
DeleteA truly magical use of the prompts
Delete"Spiced Honey in slow spirals into the Earthen cup" sets the scene perfectly. So spiritual and minds me of a tea ritual. It's truly dreamy.
DeleteInfinity 133
ReplyDeleteThere’s been no more problems from the hold. The cloud of suspicion I saw on First Mate’s face be there no more. Nothing remains but the memory of the Creature but that be enough to make me quiver still.
The islands were paradise for a few days, fresh water and fruit, fresh faces and voices. And talk of the merchantmen a-scouring these waters for safe harbours. Do they not realize that while the fearsome Blackbeard be out a-sailing there be no such thing?
This here cap’n would welcome the chance to take another ship to the bottom of the sea.
Oh good - back to Basic Pirating! Loved the "cloud of suspicion"
DeleteSounds like our Captain is beginning to feel the stirring of desirous plunder in his veins once more. It was so hard to find the prompts in this installment. And 133 of them total, to boot. I'll never make it that far!
DeleteA clear route for the Captain, so glad I have no plans to be on a boat any time soon.
DeleteI've been searching my wife family with some interesting Missionary types, and commissioned soldier types. I was so in the frame of mind for this and the hit seas. Pleased to see the captain back to his pleasing.
DeleteI agree, good to see the spark back in his eyes. Loved the phrasing of the final line.
Deleteit's been a long week of not much happening during the day, too cold/wet/windy/whatever excuses people use not to shop, but busy busy in the evenings. Kathryn Howard and I are 4000 words into her episode of living with Henry, of being his Queen, of not wanting to be his Queen. In many ways she is more revealing even than the other four queens, as she has no love/affection colouring her impressions. I am still getting this picture of the most amazingly talented, complex man who seems to have been underrated and understated even by the most thorough researcher, because they can't see or discover what the queens are telling me, his diplomatic skills, his spy ring which started always with him and ended with him, his astronomy, alchemy, musicianship, language ability (five!) his craftiness (asking envoys to repeat their message on the basis he did not understand first time, because he says second time round you get a slightly different version and that is more likely to be near the truth than the first... which is how and why no one got anything past him) and his migraines, far worse than mine. He had to be led to his suite of rooms when one came in, he literally could not see.
ReplyDeleteYes, I'm absorbed, totally, by this book! What goodies are Katherine Parr going to bring to me???????
All this so fascinating, Antonia, and there did seem to be many many multi-talented men in those days; our ability to appreciate the breadth of them hampered by time and what duller observers have to say.
DeleteNot sure if I've mentioned this before, but one of my ancestors was at Henry VIII's deathbed. However, the Tudor period of English history will always be fascinating to me even if he hadn't been in attendance.
DeleteSounds incredibly fascinating! I would be absorbed as well. Hope to read it some day! :)
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #14
ReplyDeleteExcessive Flurries
The wind toyed with our sails as we beat south, snow flying. The royal blue flag snapped over and set to quivering as I saw our worst enemy through a momentary gap in the clouds. Despite our efforts we’d drifted north and, skulking through the forest as we were, we couldn’t rise. Natasha tried valiantly to turn, but she could only slow us as we landed against the mountain. One nerve-reaking slide later we rested among the foothills in a strange land. Natasha aimed her cannons in useful directions and there we were content to remain until the blizzard abated.
Loved how you set the scene. I could see the blizzard forcing them down!
DeleteWhat a perfect title! And the slight lunacy of the scene (at least, to me!) well matching it.
DeleteA few weeks away, not on purpose and not for any very good reason, just wasn't feeling inspired. So Rosie challenged me to break out of my doldrums this time, with 20 minutes to go before midnight. Here's the product of ten of those minutes...
ReplyDeleteAll Business
They say you shouldn't let anger cloud your judgement. I don't know who, but somebody says that. I never had a problem with it, because my judgement is usually cloudy - getting mad makes things clearer. I've seen tough guys go all quivery when they walk into a room and there's a stiff on the floor. Not me. My brain switches into somebody's-gonna-pay-for-this mode, and all the day to day rubbish just goes away, the only thing that remains is business. This morning, the remains are old Mrs. Wheeler's.
Ooo loved the old school detective/policeman vibe to this... or perhaps mobster, depending on what side he's on. Excellent ending with the final line. :)
DeleteAnd this my first read of the day Bill - thank you, and Rosie, for the slap-faced awakening of it. I especially liked the penultimate sentence.
Delete