I don’t know how the live traffic feed at the RH
side of this (inherited along with the site) works but it has me flitting between
Coventry, Wolverhampton and Launceston, down in Cornwall, all 100 miles or more
from my actual location. None of which, thank goodness, prevented a richness of
entries this week from newcomer Jeffrey’s
heavenly description to RR Kovar - the previous host of The
Prediction. And we have had Patricia’s
very successful first poem, despite having claimed for months she wouldn’t know
where to start. (It’s my belief that good writers are naturally poetic), Zaiure’s suggestion of a new serial, Bill launching into the future, Antonia bamboozling us with pirate
logic, complemented by Rosie’s
alternative view, and Kai coming
over nasty with a sliver of steel.
So, who to choose? Which of these do I like –
admire, enjoy – enough of a fraction above the others to declare it winner? And
the truth is, this week, I simply cannot say, therefore I have to declare you
all winners, for your writing, but would give Antonia and Patricia
extra praise for their consistency in commenting. Thank you all.
Words for next week: paper queue yawn
Entries
by midnight Thursday 15th December, new
words posted on Friday 16th
Sounds like I missed an epic week, congratulations everyone. Hopefully I shall get time to catch up with the writing over the weekend.
ReplyDeleteI may not have left many comments, but I read all the entries and cannot agree any less with what Sandra has said. Excellent work done all around. Let's keep it up. ;)
ReplyDeleteSo many good stories last week! I had to go back in and read and finish commenting today, as the week slipped past me. :)
DeleteAnd thank you for doing so Zaiure - very m uch appreciated.
DeleteJeffrey Y. here and still working on getting my name to show up in the posting drop down. Congrats to Antonia and Patricia. It was a belated reading I gave your submissions. My apologies as last week just wasn't a good week personally. I'll do better with my comments and I hope with my submission as well.
DeleteI've really enjoyed reading all the stories but my question is, do they all factor in for the weekly challenge?
DeleteI can see the dilemma, Sandra! I would have done the same thing, this week (apart from my efforts, must do better, I tell myself) the standards were incredibly high.
ReplyDeleteCongrats to all of you for a week of superb reading.
I'm only surprised that this isn't the result more often. The submissions here just seem to set the bar higher and higher all the time. I'm constantly amazed I ever make it past the first round.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations to everyone. Could there be a more talented group?
Back when I wrote The Skullface Chronicles about four years ago, the Predictioneers, as we were then, numbered far more. I just counted 29 names at the end of my book. They're there because first I acknowledged that being part of the weekly challenge had helped craft my writing and second because Skullface came out of one week, when the words were
ReplyDeletemyopic, chamber, escape, which is about as obscure as you can get, methinks. I had Skullface waking from death in a mole's chamber and working to get out. The entire novel spiralled from that week's words.
I've just looked through the list - RR Kovar is here now, Sandra has been a constant, Zaiure and William are here still, the others have slid away into the darkness of their own writing worlds.
This too is the way of life. I walked into spiritualism in 1995 and began sitting circle (a group of like minded people who meet every week for meditation and guidance) almost immediately. I sat in one circle for well over ten years, and realised how much they tended to ebb and flow. I switched circle when it all but folded and began sitting with the person who is now my best friend. That too went through its changes and finally folded. I now sit with the original circle leader on an irregular basis. This is reflected in our lives, there is always change somewhere, with people, with life.
The Challenge itself has gone through several changes, They're charted in my 'thank you' like this:
I want to acknowledge the many writers who have taken part and who still take part in the weekly Prediction Challenge. This is an online challenge started by horror writer and storyteller, Lily Childs, the aim being to write a one hundred word story around three words chosen at random from a dictionary. It proved to be of inestimable help to my writing, showing me how to truly write tight, but more than that, it’s the friendship, comments and support shown by fellow Predictioneers that keeps all of us coming back week after week to test our writing skills and enjoy the work of the others.
Lily handed over the Challenge to Phil Ambler, horror writer and storyteller, who ran it capably until it began to interfere with work commitments, the same reason Lily gave it up. The Challenge passed to Colleen Foley, horror writer and storyteller, to host.
Skullface grew out of the Challenge: one week the words inspired me enough to create this offbeat zombie anomaly, as he calls himself. Fellow Predictioneers asked for more, so a serial developed and morphed into a book, with installments being posted on the Challenge each week.
Skullface outgrew his allocated one hundred word installments at much the same time as Phil Ambler handed over the Challenge to Colleen Foley, who kindly granted us a page of our own so Predictioneers could continue to read this story. It was she who called this The Skullface Chronicles; I had it titled merely as Skullface. Her title is so much better and acknowledges the work of my all-time favourite writer and major writing influence, Ray Bradbury, and echoes the title of his masterpiece, The Martian Chronicles. I have nothing but grateful thanks for Colleen for the inspired choice.
Just checked - myopic, chamber, escape spurred episode 3 of 'A Change of -Focus' and a stand-alone concerning the abduction of a myopic violinist quoting nursery rhymes! I've wondered before if the words now aren't a bit simplistic.
DeletePart 2, ran out of space:
ReplyDeleteWe have been through changes - the group we have now is a select one, if I can say such a thing, highly talented people who are competing against each other to raise their own standards (I was disappointed with my offerings this week, will strive to do better with the new words) and in doing that, we improve all the time. It's why I am the medium I am, pitting myself against others, striving to do better clairvoyance, give better messages, it's the only way we develop. It's easy to walk away, harder to keep going but the rewards are massive, if you fight to the end.
I'm proud to be part of the Challenge and grateful for the ongoing chance to participate. So, huge THANK YOU to Sandra for being there from the start and for taking it on now, not missing a beat as we go, keeping us all working. You're one outstanding person, my dear friend.
Been meaning to say this for a while, as we get nearer to the end of this 9 year, this Clearing Year, I am finally getting to do the things I've known I have to do and it feels good. Now to see what I can do with these words...
And Thank you, Antonia, for the acknowledgement, but know that it is ure selfishness that keeps me here - having such a talented group whose work I can read and who comment on my offerings. While I don't crave to be published, I value highly the opportunity to write for you here.
DeleteI love getting to see what everyone comes up with every week, and I've definitely seen improvement in my own writing when I participate in this fine group. Love the challenge and camaraderie. There's something about musing over 3 words that obliterates writer's block, when my other projects falter. :)
DeleteI also want to express my thanks for everyone who has kept it going, despite passing between several hands. So grateful for this space and group that keeps me writing!
DeleteI am also delighted that this forum exists in which to stretch the creative imagination. Much like Sandra, I don't crave to be published but I do enjoy being part of such a talented group of writers.
DeleteFirst, Sandra, it worked. Now, I'm very grateful to Antonia for extending an invitation when I asked and how welcoming you all have been. When I started writing, 3+ years ago, being published was a goal, why else write? I've been fortunate to have a few stories published. Yet, as nice as that was, reading the comments about my submissions, is a far greater reward. I hop eto continue the expectations I've established.
DeleteHome is the sailor, home from the sea
ReplyDeleteHis greasy, jute-tied queue curled upwards above the grubby blue collar of his coat. Eyes struggled to shorten focus from horizon to my face and thence to the paper I’d set before him; ears more tuned to the rumbling barrels being rolled towards the yawning cellar door than my urgent importunings.
‘Your name, here, Is all –‘
I handed him a less-than-tidy quill.
‘I – I cannot scribe –‘
‘Then make a mark!’
I un-shawled my baby as I lifted gold from his pocket. Waved the ink to dry as three more women hove into sight.
First-come first-served where bastardy’s concerned.
an ice cold piece, no heart, all greed, perfectly captured.
DeleteA strong, brusque piece to be sure. Loved your capture of the weary sailor at the beginning description.
DeleteA chilling final line to a masterfully strong piece.
DeleteAn inventive means to extract what is rightfully due prior to the DNA era. Loved the atmospheric feel and I'm wondering how many more women will join the line 'ere the day is over.
DeleteI see it, the London of Dickens, the squalid flats of the poor. The nobles chambermaid, offered money for the bastard child and the political havoc it will create.
DeleteWhat else do you do when you don't have Facebook.
A Rare Breed
ReplyDeleteEven those who, with huge yawn and exaggerated eye roll, dubbed the announcement boring, stood in line for what would likely be the final live viewing.
The queues were interminable and there was much pushing and shoving. Time was of the essence. Extinction was on the horizon. The like would never be seen again.
Soon, the newspaper headlines would read:
"Death of last human not conceived via artificial insemination."
The initial premise of everyday, boring, normality makes even greater the impact of the final line - an important lesson in 'how to', and an excellent example.
Deletedark piece of writing, loved it.
DeleteI've been struggling with titles lately, but yours is perfection! A strong futuristic piece. I especially felt the power of the phrasing in the second paragraph - 'extinction was on the horizon'.
DeleteIt has been a chilling year of firsts and lasts, this piece brought home to me how much so.
DeleteA beautiful irony, makes me want to know more about that last person. Well done.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 75-Trains, Planes And Shank's Pony
ReplyDeleteSeeking an alternative escape route as yet untried, Hamnet made his way to the turnstile. A notice, confusing in its message read:
"Orderly queue to the right or to the left."
But there was no queue.
Hamnet squinted at the arches beyond the exit. The twin passageways were cavernous, foreboding, yawning like the mouths of languid ogres. The turnstile, initially stubborn, grudgingly relented a smidgen at Hamnet's insistence.
From his Sentry Box, the Conductor launched a paper aeroplane fashioned in part from a vintage sepia photograph. It landed at the youth's feet.
What Hamnet did next would prove crucial.
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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.
---------------------------------------------------------
And oh! what a delightful image is that paper aeroplane - wish I'd thought of that!
Deletecrucial, it would be in this serial... I'll be waiting on the next instalment!
DeleteI really enjoyed this piece. There is so much promise and tension building. Loved the hook of the final line and your phrase about passageways as yawning ogre mouths!
DeleteWhen I first read this I read it (in error) as "Carnivorous tunnels." What a difference a word makes :D
DeleteI'm intrigued of what the photograph is off and what Hamnet will do next.
I enjoyed the "orderly queue to the left or the right" chaos out of order. Now to locate the previous installments.
DeleteKursaal (Episode Fifty) -- "Dottie Randall"
ReplyDeleteDottie Randall, first in queue for "The Orbiter," arrived while The Wheelman, yawning and rubbing his eyes, initiated daily operations of the ride.
With her pad of recycled paper and supply of 2B pencils, Dottie intended to sketch the Kursaal from the circling arc of its tallest attraction. Art was her passion. She was no slouch when it came to her chosen craft.
Drawings found on Dottie's seat were a testament to her talent. The map was authentic and she had even captured the likeness of certain performers with incredible accuracy.
Of Dottie herself, however, there was no trace.
--------------------------------------------------------
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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Uh oh - do I detect the beginnings of a mystery? [I once got stranded on a fairground wheel while the operator went off for his lunch. My aunt and I helplessly watch the ferry we'd intended to catch depart]
DeleteI must apologize for my wicked sense of humour here. Your comment brought forth an unbidden giggle at the picture. I do hope you weren't stranded at the very top. I avoid big wheels for fear of that very occurrence!
DeleteNot at the top - he left the wheel turning. And although it was 50+ years ago I can remember our giggles.
Deletegood one, Patricia, a nice mystery indeed. Alien abduction, magic, the mind boggles.
DeleteI love a good mystery and the idea of Dottie the artist. Did she see something she shouldn't have?
DeleteI can't help but muse upon where dottie might be, a most mysterious episode. I'm not a fan of heights myself, but I also like to challenge myself. This very much reminded me when I worked in the same building as ITN news, they had a big glass elevator, and no stairs, One night I travelled all the way to the top of the building then pushed the button for the subbasement. Alas Sian Lloyd got on part of the way down and got out at the ground floor. So I had to start my dare all over again.
DeleteChange of focus [213]
ReplyDeleteNo question of forming an orderly queue: Pettinger, in simultaneous haste, collided with the largest of Filip’s friends, following Teodor’s under-duress directions as to Jake Cherriman’s whereabouts.
A siren’s wail signalled help at hand for Valdeta.
A second, higher-pitched, from behind one of many closed doors in a silk-papered corridor, splintered Pettinger’s blood to ice. Bursting in, they found Cherriman astride one concubine; two more yawned, discarded.
Cherriman smiled triumphant over his shoulder. ‘Yanno, take this one when I’m done. Your friends the other two.’
A knife-prick to his balls disabused him of shared interest.
‘Where’s Valdeta’s daughter?’
‘Mine too.’
and all hell breaks loose... as usual... and really is it episode 203?????
Deleteno, even more than that, 213!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DeleteLoved loved the phrasing of the silk-papered hallway and Pettinger's blood 'splintering to ice'.
Delete"A knife-prick to his balls disabused him of shared interest." A deserving line that made me bite my lip.
DeleteSo much to love here, but I will select my likely favourite phrase (not an easy choice): "silk-papered corridor" I adore the image of two discarded concubine actually yawning on the sidelines. Doesn't sound like Cherriman is much cop (as my father used to say) when it comes to the romance department. Killer last line, as always.
DeleteAnother on going serial. This was an interesting installment, yet my first that I read, I'll look for the previous stories. Not knowing context, I enjoyed it. Valdeta is a very good name. (and capital btw)
DeleteMust be another anniversary coming up that has got me all rheumy eyed this week.
ReplyDeleteThe Day My Life Began.
Never mind how it looked on paper, we matched.
Settled in the corner-bar laughing, our future plans were hatched.
I offered another drink, you seemed keen despite being two hours before dawn,
I held you close in the queue to the bar you stifled a yawn.
White Musk your scent as you leaned in close for that kiss.
I hold on to that moment forever, for it was, and is the perfect bliss.
Leaving together to greet the dawn nothing seemed out of reach.
A new beginning, a fresh start for new lovers as we walked along the beach.
A lovely tribute William, with a wonderful opening line and invisible prompts - and surely you mean 'misty-eyed'!
DeleteIn truth it's man Flu, otherwise indeed misty eyed. :D
Deleteman flu is the name of all male ailments, it seems... nice little tribute here, William.
DeleteBeautiful and touching. Loved how easily the scene came alive in my head.
DeleteWhat an amazing tribute and thank you for sharing the memory. Whether actual or factual makes no difference since it is the sentiment here that steals the show. What a romantic you are, William...!!!
DeleteI'm envious of your ability to rhyme and it's such a tribute to two people.
DeleteGreetings all. I decided on a poem and had it all done up, when it was brought to my attention, the poem didn't follow the rules. Ce la vie' so on to another poem. I'll post the other later. So below is my weekly entry, hope you all enjoy.
ReplyDeleteTwo Night Before Christmas
Santa's queue of snow globes, some green others red.
Names were located on long paper scroll.
Meant presents were added, while others removed.
The misses brought steaming chocolate, to husband so dear,
"Here you are, Old Saint Nick," she said with a smile.
"Surprises many, it's been with you, my dear.
Who would place mistletoe toe above me, every year?"
The portly old man, he yawned and stretched.
"Both lists are done, so I can begin."
"Remember this year we switched, my dear
The parents you have, all ready to go,
but the little ones are mine, to cuddle and hold."
Clever how, with innocent words, you've suggested underlying nastiness!
Deleteoh oh, much could be interpreted from these lines! Good one, Jeffrey
DeleteThis year I'll be sleeping fully dressed with one foot on the floor. You have truly creeped me out with your words. Excellent job.
Delete"Creeped out" is such a perfect description. I can only echo what William has already posted. On the surface, this is so innocent and heartwarming and then.... Never really was overly keen on Santa to be honest.
DeleteMy thanks for your comments and here is the poem that didn't follow the rules, for your enjoyment.
DeleteTOURNAMENT DAT
Patiently, time flutters by, invisibly.
Quaint chimes, Big Ben's offering sounds.
Yearn for fame, not bombs.
Air ships of yore, dance in the sky,
Under by standers gaze and covered eyes.
Arial knights, with machine gun lances.
Partake in modern tournament and joust.
Equines that wear heraldry of ebon crosses and tri-color circles
Wreaths deposited, for knights that have fallen.
Enemies no longer, all stand at deaths double door.
Unfulfilled lives, countries service required.
Netherworld's keeper opens arms wide.
Requiem song, the dead hear and cry.
Everyone joyous, Big Ben thunders, the war is over; until next time.
There is much lurking beneath the surface with the jolly couple.
DeleteLoved your second piece - dark, sad, but rich with description. Loved the phrasing of the first line, as well as 'netherworld's keeper opens arms wide'.
Triple confrontation [Threshold 143]
ReplyDelete‘My grandmother, she’s –‘
‘An untrustworthy bitch,’ I thought, just as another appeared: Cathra, yawning mightily and nuzzling Raven’s crotch, one eye on me, I swear, in triumph.
Then she appeared, to form a queue of three apparently awaiting their turn in my bath. Faux innocent, ‘Your father’s papers –‘
Incensed, bubbles fast-dissolving, I stood, stepped out, water streaming, me screaming inside my head at her perfidy. I’d well-hid them, she must have done some rummaging! I’d still not discovered the truth of O’Bedrun’s, ‘Alive, you’re worth more than your appearance would suggest,’ but her eyes suggested she knew it.
oh my, much going on here, love the description of the streaming screaming body!
DeleteThis just ripples with threats and exposure (no pun intended). That image of fast-dissolving bubbles is inspired. So apt and so perfect.
DeleteI enjoyed the, to me, implied conflict, like the music in a movie indicating the stars should run away.
DeleteAntonia and Patricia called out my favorite line. This piece snaps with action.
DeleteMight be a new serial, but no name yet, except for the episode.
ReplyDeleteMaking Fire
"I don't know how much longer you want to stare at that thing. If you haven't managed it yet, you never will - queue the gasp!"
Portia's eyes pierced his as she huffed loudly, crumpeling the sheet of paper in her hand and letting it drop to the floor. "Dammit!"
Dante leaned back in his chair, yawning leisurely. With a flick of his finger the fallen wad of paper began to smolder and blacken until it caught fire.
"You have a talent for teleportation, I'm sure we'll get more magic out of you yet."
"Talent?" Portia spat. "More like a curse."
Yes, correct prompt or not this has much promise, and "With a flick of his finger the fallen wad of paper began to smolder and blacken until it caught fire" is lovely action/description.
DeleteThis certainly lends itself to a continuation. You simply cannot leave it there, Kai. Teleportation and magic and the inference of a curse. This is the perfect mixture for a serial.
DeleteI see a Gibson girl/Flapper dressed lady at a gum shoe agency, looking for training. Very much like a Jim Butcher story and a very nice introduction.
DeleteI hope you continue the story. I'm intrigued by Portia's comment, and Dante's use of magic.
Deletenice one, Kai, apart from the wrong queue here, you meant cue - cue fanfare, cue the gasp. There is much here to carry on into a serial, would like to see more.
ReplyDeleteHah! I really should have checked that. What a stupid mistake. I'll see if I can get another story for these prompts before tomorrow morning. :)
DeleteHappens to us all from time to time Kai, I very much enjoyed it all the same.
DeleteI've temporarily run out of things to change in the shop, that is until we launch into full scale changes after Christmas, so - as the week has been dominated by the breakup and fall out of the breakup of daughter and troublesome alcoholic boyfriend and I have had no time to think, I decided to write my stand-alone now and see if the Captain calls by later. He said he would.
ReplyDeleteSo,
The Clean-up Brigade
I saw him in the morning queue for the paper, yawning, scratching; the very epitome of slovenly youth. Guilty as charged – in my head anyway. Who cares about the considerations of others? There could be an elderly mother, for all I knew, waiting on her daily ration of sex, scandal and power-mongering among the high and mighty. Or he could need the paper for a cage, cheaper than sand sheets. If he did, he was lower down the pecking order than I thought.
All of this was irrelevant. I had a quota of hopeless people to remove. His turn today.
Oh - heartless, cold-blooded and bleak. And written with minimum fuss and maximum impact.
DeleteAs Sandra has already said "So cold Blooded and bleak", but oh so lovely.
DeleteA "quota of hopeless people" says so much is so few words. This was compelling and frankly, I had a lot of trouble to even find the prompt words.
DeleteAntonia;
DeleteShades of Soylent Green here, why else a quota. I liked the line ...cheaper than sand sheets (sand paper?) Intriguingly done.
An intriguing title that sets the stage perfectly for this piece. Definitely brisk and nasty with the indifferent final line.
DeleteHounded [2]
ReplyDeleteJaen eyed the dented roof dubiously, as rain hammered on the metal with all the subtly of a queue of enthusiastic cloggers. “Cozy,” she said, her voice implying anything but.
“We can’t all afford penthouses like Lennox. So, what brings her favorite beagle to my door?” Grinning, Callon lifted a beer can to his mouth and punctured the aluminum with an elongating canine.
Jaen’s eyes sharped dangerously. “Have you seen the paper recently? I say seen, since I have sincere doubts you can read.”
“Hah! So this is about Sirius. He shows up and the proverbial abyss yawns yet again.”
So glad I took time to go back and read last weeks episode, this is going to be one fine series.
DeleteTruly loved 'proverbial abyss yawns yet again'. You always create such strong characters with deceptively simple strokes.
DeleteSeems like the perfect title to me, Zaiure. So glad to see this continuation. I think I'm going to have to steal the image of a "queue of enthusiastic cloggers" dancing atop a metal roof.
DeleteI would love to see a "queue of enthusiastic cloggers," and I also love the title. One of my morris teams is called the Bassett Street Hounds and we make a lot of enthusiastic noise, though we're not cloggers. My rapper sword team used to do some clogging, but they stopped long before I joined.
DeleteMy apologies but are cloggers boots? I'm still in the dark but is Callon a vampire or is he insulting Jean by calling her a beagle? (AKA a female dog?)
DeleteThank you all! @Rosie A rapper sword team sounds like lots of fun! @Jeffrey Clogging is a type of folk dance where you pound out rhythms with your feet. It's somewhat like tap dancing, if you're familiar with that. And as far as Callon... I haven't exactly decided what he is yet. :) He is insulting Jaen, either because she is a figurative hound for Lennox or perhaps she has some wolf blood... I never quite know what's happening with these pieces or where they're going until I ponder the words each week. :)
Deleteit grows more intriguing by the week... more please!
ReplyDeleteOK,
ReplyDeleteInfinity 177
Wanted to dock at an island but I be damned if the Infinity has to queue, who knows what the others might take before I gets there? The yawning break in the reef might have given the old ship a problem, so tis better we sail on. Methinks the next port of call will be better; I need supplies, more paper, ink; decent grog. I’ll leave the rotgut stuff for the crew. Not for the cook, he doesn’t touch grog. Not sure I trusts them as doesn’t drink, what do they have to hide that might come out when drunk?
This week the captains voice very much reminded of a former CEO I used to work for. He had no trust of Tea Totallers, and I'm sure a Tea Total Chef would have caused him great concern. As he told me once with a wink, "every man enjoys a poison of some sort, and enjoys sharing it with worthy folk, I'm pretty sure tea is no such thing." A fine Cornish Calvados was what he shared that night.
DeleteSo very satisfying an episode.
DeleteAnd suspicion of the new cook reaches an even more lofty height. A sailor who doesn't drink? Balderdash! That pot-stirrer is hiding something, I'll be bound.
DeleteImagine that, a captain who doesn't trust people who don't get drunk every so often!
DeleteI'm interested to see what the Captain's suspicions might draw out and learn more about this mysterious cook.
DeleteBreaking Point
ReplyDeleteQueuing at the supermarket, it couldn't get any worse. He stared down at his shopping cart, microwave dinners, chips and sodas, the banes of his existence that he couldn't live without. He had tried, but it wasn't easy when everything around him pointed at the futility of human existence.
The rotund woman in front of him yawned, her horse teeth opening wide, making it hard for him to look away. Couples fought about what to buy, old men rummaged for change in their pockets, kids screamed.
His temple pulsed harder then ever. He couldn't take it anymore.
"Paper or plastic?"
A Hell on earth created in your words. I find shopping humans particularly dreadful especially this time of year and you have done fine job recreating it.
DeleteHeart-sinkingly relevant, Kai, from beginning to end.
DeleteJust read my comments back and they make no sense, obviously my pre festive booze has kicked in. :D
DeleteYou have cleverly recreated the personal hell seen through the eyes of someone under duress/stress. I work from home most days and had to go get some coffee from our local shopping centre the other day. When I got home I exclaimed to my wife that "Tesco is like a war zone" she told me "It's been like that for weeks, it's nearly Christmas!" Note to self get out more. :)
And who has not been there? I never fail to join what I believe will be the swiftest-moving queue, only to see other lines sail past. Humorous descriptions that hit home only too well. Magnificent last line.
DeleteLoved the line the futility of human existence. Been there, thought like that, remember it well so I never go back.
DeleteGrocery shopping can definitely feel absolutely terrible, especially now. Great tie-in with the title and the ending line. My mind jumps wildly imaging all sorts of reactions by the narrator.
DeleteThis came about from Patricia's comments on my earlier poem, as my response was a bit wordy I decide to put it into flash using the prompts.
ReplyDeleteExplaining Everlasting
I first set eyes upon her the night I proclaimed there was no such thing as love, an emotion that had proved (till then) to be paper thin, I was done. A stranger in the bar there were other men that thought they’d make her day, but I accidentally cut the queue. I wanted nothing, but a shared smile rapidly became a fire. My world suddenly clicked into place, no more reasons to be sad or off my face.
Eighteen months later, I’m sat in traffic Yawning on the way home from the birth of our baby girl, and married.
Really lovely this, simple, straightforward, poetic and true.
DeleteThis, as Sandra put it, was truly lovely. I am so happy to have been an encouragement that brought about this delightful memory. Poetic here is indeed the key word...in thought, deed and immaculate execution.
DeleteThank you. That baby girl is soon to be 16. How time flies.
DeleteA beautiful memory and a wonderful title.
DeleteThe Best Student
ReplyDeleteOthers dozed through lessons, hiding their yawns. He sat rigidly upright, eyes riveted, straining to recall each word.
They slouched through the queue for the morning meal; he fasted and practiced. Each lesson was written and rewritten until he ran out of paper. A hunger for learning, his teachers said. A hunger, certainly.
At last he sat alone, received the Master's lessons directly, learning the secrets. Save one - the Great Truth. He could wait no longer, angrily asked, demanded! "Only this; no one unworthy may know the Great Truth." As the Master's blade reached his heart, he understood.
Nicely built and put together. You can feel the isolation, albeit self-inflicted. A very interesting concept, virtually classic in its form of telling.
DeleteOof! What a powerful and precisely-placed punch this delivers. And how I love your precisely-placed words.
DeleteLoved the contrast between the others and the prized pupil. My favorite line was the last, as well as 'a hunger, certainly'.
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #55
ReplyDeleteWinter’s Here!
Rosebud looked down in shock.
“How could you be frozen in, Syra Harbor has the best icebreakers in the world.”
“I don’t know, everyone’s been queuing outside for hours trying to get in,” Abby responded with a yawn, “I’ll be taking a nap in my chair if I’m stuck here much longer.”
“I’ll see if Henry can bring you a weather report so you can find the best way back out,” Rosebud responded.
“Thanks.”
Natasha spun around in the air, unwittingly bumping a cloud which dumped more snow on the packed harbor.
“Hey, I just shoveled that deck!”
Always amusing and always so picturesque. The image of Natasha bumping a cloud which then dumped more snow is so vivid. What a lovely illustration that would make.
DeleteYou have the ability to create a breadth of tale as well as something highly individual, and the cloud-bumping adds a fourth dimension.
DeletePatricia picked out my favorite description, which set the atmosphere beautifully. Love all the glimpses of this world you give us each week.
Deletesand sheets. Sand sprinkled onto sheets of stiff paper, glued, cut to different cage sizes for budgies, canaries, finches and other caged birds. Good for their claws, it helps keep them a bit shorter. Good for the floor of the cage, lets them play with toys without causing mayhem as the loose sand used to, when I first had a budgie. He threw it everywhere... and lived to the brilliant old age of 13!
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