Friday, 25 November 2016

Coming up trumps with the goods (sorry!).

That was Patricia this week, three superb pieces after claiming she couldn’t find a use for ‘chapter’. I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised to see just how many definitions there were for it, most of which were eventually used. (No Hell‘s Angels!) And Antonia managed a bit of recruiting for The Prediction too – a very warm welcome, Jeff.
I was somewhat startled to see that  next week we’ll be into December, but hope you’ll all have time to participate here.
As for this week’s winner ... (this gets harder each week) ... it’s a joint, family affair: Rosie for her 52nd episode of Rosebud and Bill as runner up for as good an exercise in subtle menace as you’ll ever see.

Words for next week:  lame mouth upper

Entries by midnight Thursday 1st December, new words posted on Friday 2nd

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. Serialised 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.

80 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. A belated thanks to all, the week has been a busy one but I hope to sit down and write something somewhat sooner this round. Although sometimes the pressure seems to help!

      Delete
    2. An even later thanks to all of you from Rosebud and I!

      Delete
  2. Applause to both Rosie and Bill. What a standard of excellence is found here. How Sandra manages to make a choice every week is totally beyond my comprehension.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Congrats Rosie and Bill.

    I haven't been here in quite some time. Lots of things happening in life that kept me away. After recent contact with Antonia she urged me to return, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Enjoy!

    One By One
    A sharp intake of breath, mouth wide open, tongue clamped down to not disturb the work.
    The Doctor looked down on his patient, precision tools at the ready. The more lame and mundane pliers lay on a side table. They had their uses, but that kind of fun would have to wait until later.
    Eyes darted back and forth until they latched onto the dreadful tool in the Doctor's hand. A shriek escaped falling on deaf ears.
    The Doctor's hand was steady. He'd start with the upper molars in the back right and work his way around.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ouch!! Welcome back Kai - you have been missed. And with a tale that picks up on the retrospectively obvious uses for these prompts AND tunes into one of my nightmares.

      Delete
    2. Nice to see your return...I think. I have a dental appointment on Wednesday, so thank you for the nightmare! What magnificently morbid images.

      Delete
    3. A nightmare to be sure, starting familiar in the dentist chair, until that chilling line 'that kind of fun would have to wait until later'. Excellent title.

      Delete
    4. it's hard work dragging these people back to or into the Challenge... but it's working at the moment...
      Congrats, Bill and Rosie, stunning writing, loved the poem, Jeff, everyone else up to their usual standard. Now to see about another stand alone before the Captain arrives to continue the ongoing serial. Sometimes he's too laid back for words... I mean, who's going to cook for them now? And what about the thing in the hold, which didn't get a meal as the cook opted out of the rough and went for the wet instead... OK, going off to lunch shortly, all these idle passing thoughts can be left to marinate...

      Oh yes,Kai, brilliant evocation here! (my cat's named Kai, he can be devious too...)

      Delete
    5. One very good story Kai, now I sure hope that dentists and clowns never get together. I'm in the enviable position, as the new kid on the block, to make sure I keep the standards up.

      Delete
    6. You have seriously hit one of my raw nerves with this piece. I may not sleep well tonight.

      Delete
  4. In Her Dotage

    Edith heard the whispers when they thought she wasn't listening. Nothing but lame accusations. Second childhood indeed! Well, if it was anything like her first, then she couldn't wait. Santa Claus...Easter Bunny...and her favorite, the Tooth Fairy.

    Pale blue eyes twinkling and mouth curled into a wickedly knowing grin, Edith reached for the container where her dentures were in soak. Using great care, she tucked the uppers and lowers neatly beneath her pillow.

    There should be a very nice reward come the morning.


    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What a humorous, but also sad depiction of senility. Not a dark piece like we tend to see a lot around here, but there's a definite shadow hovering over old age.

      Delete
    2. I liked this story, the bright side of living up to (or is it down to) expectations? It reminds me of how I remember my late father-in-law. Well done, Patricia and thanks.

      Delete
    3. Oh dear, on one level this is terrifyingly, delightfully realistic. Superbly told, Patricia.

      Delete
    4. oh that's so clever, so gently done, too.

      Delete
    5. Clever, humorous & sad with an excellent final line.

      Delete
    6. This brought tears to my eyes (both happy and sad), and memories of the covert conversations my mum would have with me in the later stages of her dementia. Thank you for the beauty of your words, for your tenderness of delivery I salute you.

      Delete
  5. Yes, congrats and a sound Huzzah to Rosie and Billy and a great job done by all other entries.

    ReplyDelete
  6. A Symposium


    “What determines the image we see,” I asked Dr. F

    “Am I lame, but do we know we aren't the image?”

    “Is it about left side vs. right side, but it could be about upper vs. lower,” replied Dr. F

    “If you accept the simile that your nervous system is a river, then is the mouth it's delta?”

    “Why not the brain, for that is where they all lead,” I said.

    “The brain is a spring, it's the source, Dr. M”

    “I'll be studying on an island and will examine this, Dr. F”

    “And I to my tower, Dr. M.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Very clever - twists my mind beyond comfort, for sure.

      Delete
    2. nicely done, a real tangle of thoughts simply set out.

      Delete
    3. An intriguing conversation with excellent back & forth wordplay. Love the comparison of the body to nature elements.

      Delete
    4. I always find dialogue exchanges to be so very entertaining. This was no exception. Love: "nervous system is a river, then is the mouth it's delta?" What a magnificent idea.

      Delete
    5. This is a cleverly written multi-faceted piece. In awe of this conversation, It has got me quite involved in consideration of each view point.

      Delete
    6. Jeffrey here. My belated thanks for all of your comments and warm welcome to the group. As an FYI, Dr. F is Frankenstein and Dr. M is Moreau.

      Delete
  7. Cripplegate Junction/Part 73-Confrontations

    A member of the upper class, the Grande Dame was loathe to associate with riff-raff. Sometimes, however, there was little choice. From her carriage window, she summoned a timid youth cowering in a side alley. His apron read "Elsie's Dairy."

    "I have lost a valuable chess piece," she told him. "Find it and you will be rewarded."

    Over a checkered board in the Sanitarium's garden, two young ladies continued their squabble.

    "Lame move," remarked one, dabbing a lace napkin at the buttered teacake crumbs lingering on her mouth.

    "I think not," her sister returned as she captured the Red Queen.

    --------------------------------------------------------
    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.
    ---------------------------------------------------------

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I can see the Grande Dame's crooked tea-sipping finger, love the details of the crumbs and applaud the final move. Lovely episode.

      Delete
    2. definitely a great episode. I spent some time this evening writing advice to a newbie who'd submitted a story talking about just that, no info dumping of description, but using movement and the tiniest details to bring out character. Superbly done, Patricia.

      Delete
    3. I agree with Antonia - you are a master at giving life to characters through beautifully described actions. This scene came to life in my head vividly.

      Delete
    4. I am forever in awe at how you add depth and create thought in such a short piece.

      Delete
  8. Sod‘s law [Threshold 141]

    ‘Come to bed.’
    The words I’d ached to hear issued from a mouth I’d for more than a twelvemonth yearned to have kiss me. And this upper chamber – now soft with candle flame, perfumed by burning applewood – beyond my wildest dreams as a place of consummation.

    But I, hollowed, lame and wilting as aged celery, foul-breathed as the latrine must once have been, was so far from desirable – or desiring – as to render me incapable of walking even the half dozen necessary steps.

    As on another occasion, he carried me and laid me gently down. Covered me with silk.
    ‘Tomorrow.’

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. there's a bitter sadness in this, her description of herself is so sad, so heartbreaking you can almost feel it.

      Delete
    2. My goodness, what a wonderful mood of melancholia is portrayed here. I love the final promise though..."Tomorrow." This was some exquisite writing.

      Delete
    3. Oh my. Such a build up. However Raven demonstrates himself to be a worthy suitor, he will wait rather than press. Pride has no place in true love. Well writ.

      Delete
    4. Love the contrast between the setting and the way she perceives herself. It is rather heartbreaking, but Raven shows tenderness.

      Delete
  9. Change of focus [211]

    The Petzincek family arrived at the upper echelons of Khakbethian aristocracy by way of backstabbing bloodshed; stains subsequently covered – since not obliterated – beneath trappings of cultural splendour.

    Unawed, backed by a Filip-supplied entourage of four, John Pettinger had anticipated Teodor puppet-mouthing Cherriman’s words, unwilling to welcome his eldest brother, but his hug felt genuine and there’d seemed more than lame lip-service in his greeting.
    Made optimistic, Pettinger asked, ‘Valdeta?’
    ‘Valdeta is –‘ Teodor glanced around as if hoping to locate her. Pointed to the corner, to what Pettinger had supposed to be a forgotten pile of discarded clothes, ‘Is there.’

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I read this a couple of times in order to savour the true core of the episode. I am anxious to find out more ... much more ... of this Valdeta.

      Delete
    2. I am both breathless and wordless, why? I want more.

      Delete
    3. Fascinated with the description of Valdeta in the corner. Strong sense of character & setting here. Loved it!

      Delete
  10. Trades description

    I’d seen she was lame soon as she came through the door, though once she’d spotted me looking she tried to hide it. When she reached me what came out her mouth was as estuarine as the Gravesend she’d likely been born in.
    I sighed. I’d been promised – had already paid for – upper class. If he wasn’t going to do it he could hardly complain if someone else took on his stock control.
    I jerked my head, ‘Outside.’

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, nasty one! The all powerful having the fate of the lame in their hands... great writing, Sandra.

      Delete
    2. As Antonia put it so succinctly, this was, in all essence, so very nasty. Brilliantly done and what an inspired title.

      Delete
    3. Definitely a chilling little piece. Well written & harsh.

      Delete
  11. Infinity 175.
    Lame he were, mouth half sewn shut but he knew his food. We were docked at some island in the upper reaches of the Indian Ocean, far from what I think of as civilization, when he sort of hobbled-swayed his way on board. ‘I be told you’re short of a cook’ was all he said. Then he sort of swayed down to the galley and started throwing stuff out, shouting over the side and getting stuff in and before you could say Cap’n Teach, we were eating this food that were like heaven.
    Wish I could believe he’d stay.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Beneath the rough appearance of this cook you slid three prompt words in to invisibility. If he stays, will he be all he seems? For the Captain's sake, I hope so.

      Delete
    2. So, a new cook enters our consciousness. Wonder who told him of the open assignment? And is he what he seems? Well, he's a good cook obviously, but I feel there is more.

      Delete
    3. One wonders from where this cook came and where he will take us next.

      Delete
    4. A good cook can be hard to find, and this one seems to take whatever place he desires. Curious what comes next!

      Delete
  12. I tried four or five different stand alone stories last night, none worked. Tonight, this came:
    The Haunting
    A lame excuse for a ghost if ever there was one haunted the upper floors of the long closed hotel. Me and my big mouth, said I’d rid the place of the revenant –forgot to add ‘if I could.’ Sometimes you just say these things… s
    The twilight came and the ghost did not but someone crept in and made hooting noises, acting the fool and terrified me. I ran. So would you were you there.
    It was later that night after several brandies and a long since given up cigarette, I discovered no one had broken in after all.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Funny how it goes, isn't it, my standalone took 2 minutes this morning.
      I like this, it seems a bit sort of insubstantial, unreliable.

      Delete
    2. And there it is ... a "ba-boom" on the drums. What a wallop of a finish. I'd love to see this as a continuation.

      Delete
    3. A merry web woven. I used to live in a Christian Guest house, the nocturnal spiritual goings on there when we were closed for the season were most unpleasant.

      Delete
    4. A fun, spooky piece that feels wonderfully familiar. Personally I would stay far away, as my imagination can create its own haunting!

      Delete
  13. for the record, I don't drink, don't clear haunted houses, gave up smoking 37 years ago...
    My latest anthology, Death and Decorations, will be out on the 15th December.I am knocked out by it, the quality of the stories is outstanding, the cover is incredible, it's one of those 'everything coming together right' scenarios. You guys know I don't mention the anthologies unless they are something else and this one is. So pleased tonight, it's almost making me warm. (tis freezing here in the UK...)
    OK, go do some comments/feedback now.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Kursaal (Episode Forty Eight) -- "Phenomena And Enigmata"

    The connection between Eli Cornelius' exotic hoochie coochie girls and his string of adorable ponies...costumery of both being strikingly similar for one thing...was seldom uppermost in anyone's mind, but word of mouth around the Kursaal did suggest a mysterious association.

    Notably, Eli's dancing divas (providing adult entertainment) and his equine prancers (providing children's rides) were never seen in the same place at the same time.

    This curious anomaly was never more apparent than when Bijou the Star Pony went lame and Jewel the Burlesque Queen was forced to sit out several performances while nursing a severely sprained ankle.

    --------------------------------------------------------
    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.
    ---------------------------------------------------------

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Another episode perfectly demonstrating your ability to incorporate prompt words easily and with individuality. And good to meet Eli once again.

      Delete
    2. What a story on many levels. Don't tell my daughters who I'm sure still harbour a wish to be my little ponies.

      Delete
    3. Kursaal continues to be such an absorbing and magical world! Another fascinating character with an equally fascinating act.

      Delete
  15. The Day The Good Guy Let It Go!

    Dependable in his good nature all downsides he could manage.
    Friendships were there to nurture, but others took advantage.
    Most folk knew him as a good guy, but they never sought his name.
    Others less worthy saw his good nature as a sign of being lame.

    In a world where mouths spit violent words like seeds to propagate their hate.
    Stiff upper lips before they tremble, break into a rage that's calmed too late.
    You should only reap the harvest of the seeds that you sow,
    But vengeance was delivered upon everyone the day the good guy let it go.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What a strong line is "mouths spit violent words like seeds to propagate their hate". Heavy tale of a man reaching the end of his tether.

      Delete
    2. Even the docile worm will eventually turn if given sufficient provocation. Intriguing glimpse into the character of one who has taken all he is going to take. This reminds me a little of the sentiment behind Black Sabbath's "Iron Man."

      Delete
    3. Truly you are a master wordsmith. Loved the power of the phrasing in the second half.

      Delete
  16. After the Fact [9]

    Olivare was watching the sun melt into the distant mountains when Arshad regained consciousness. Curses filled his mouth, followed by dirt, as unbidden reflexes flipped him violently off the unfamiliar
    horse. Unfortunately his body did not manage a graceful maneuver, resulting in a split upper lip and an incensed expression.

    “What happened?” he demanded.

    “A Tantarian priest,” Olivare said, unable to resist a grin. “You went down like a lame horse.”

    Arshad felt at his throat.

    “Oh I took your amulet earlier. Very useful, negating thrown spells. Glare all you want, but if I’d dropped first, we’d both be dead.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I find it really hard to describe the pleasure these episodes give me - is it some sort of return to a childhood belief in magic; fairy tales for grown-ups? I really don't know but they give me suck a kick, Zaiure - thank you.

      Delete
    2. Sandra so hit the nail on the head with her observations. There is a high fantasy feel to this serialization. Actions move so smoothly and I rarely (if ever) even notice if the prompts have been used or not. Delighted to have you back....

      Delete
    3. Agree with the comments above, my favourite phrase for me was "Curses filled his mouth, followed by dirt," very evocative.

      Delete
  17. The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #53
    Less Than Creative Locals


    I wish someone would re-title the local market. “The Market” is kind of lame. At least it’s descriptive? I’m just happy we’re almost done here. Natasha doesn’t like hovering above The Upper Cliffs, she much prefers moving around. This time we’re playing incompetent spies with actual spies who are actually incompetent. Yay. We’ve been here for two weeks spying on the equally incompetent puppet king while pretending to fail at spying on his spies. The queen’s spies are much scarier, of course she holds the real power. From what I’ve seen, she hardly opens her mouth in his foolish presence.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The complexity of this, the stirring of all elements while carefully observing, is brilliant, and so typical of childhood. Thank you, Rosie.

      Delete
    2. First rule observation is to be conspicuous so that no one thinks you are there for them. Complex in it's simplicity . Good job.

      Delete
    3. What an intriguing web is woven by the repetitions of "incompetent" and "spies." And yet, the use is neither commonplace nor excessive. Just loved it...as always.

      Delete
    4. Those playing at spies spying on spies. Loved the tangled web and the use of repetition.

      Delete
  18. Consequence

    "Lame."

    Nothing more.

    She passed my hand to the man who'd opened the priory door. His upper lip curled into a sneer.

    I turned to say something, anything. No words, but from my mouth issued forth a kind of scream, dying away as her form disappeared around the streetcorner.

    His grip tightened, dragged me inside.

    I've spent eleven years within.

    They said their books would teach me the path of righteousness, and the beatings help me find forgiveness for my sins.

    I learned, and chose my path.

    I pray, and ask forgiveness.

    Forgiveness for what I will do tonight.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Is there a more ominous sounding piece this week? I think probably not. This was dark and foreboding and totally up my alley.

      Delete
    2. Loved the dark promise of the final lines and that twist of victim to action.

      Delete