... according to Francis Bacon (1561-1626). And how
well-served and with what invention were the prompt words used this week, with Antonia’s
‘freckle on the face of God’. John’s ‘freckled moth’, Patricia’s ‘freckled
violet’ and Perry’s victim’s shitty and ‘surreal’. I also appreciated Jeffrey having Hades as
‘Night Stalker’. And please do go back and check out Bill and Rosie’s last
minute entries - invariably entertaining.
A personal choice as this week’s winner though - Rich’s ‘Otherglow’ was a perfect
demonstration of how, for me, science fiction can be made irresistible and I am
more pleased than I can say that it holds the promise of a long-running serial.
Words
for next week: border reckless sherbet
Entries by midnight Thursday 6th April, words and
winners posted on Friday 7th
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.
Change of focus [229]
ReplyDeleteThe breaking of a promise, made in good faith, melted like sherbet on the tongue, but without accompanying sweetness. John Pettinger welcomed Skype as a way to keep in touch but his new-found son’s brave attempt to deny the tears which bordered on the edge of spilling, near broke his heart. And it would be cruel and reckless to pretend it would soon be easier.
‘I’ve a bad man to catch –‘
‘A murderer?’
‘Yes –‘ Aleks hadn’t exactly led a sheltered life.
‘You can catch lots of them here –‘
Sharply, ‘Not near you?’
‘He just keeps saying “Tomorrow”’
and what will tomorrow bring in this tangled web of deceit and deception? Nice instalment.
DeleteIt seems like I've stepped into season three of Breaking Bad without seeing the beginning. Not entirely sure what's going on but great reading none-the-less. Love how you did the hesitations with the hyphens.
DeleteApologies John, and other newcomers: Aleks made his first appearance in episode 193. Available to read on my lines of communuication blog via the pages tab, should anyone so wish.
DeleteSo, do we know who's breaking the promise? It almost felt like a shift in the story was about to come. The music shifts, becomes more neutral. A good episode to be sure.`
DeleteJeffrey, it is Pettinger breaking a promise (presumably) to go and visit Aleks, who remained with his mother in Khakbethia. I'm trying to keep several balls simultaneously in the air!
DeleteI love the first sentence of this - wow!
DeleteAnd what a cliffhanger this turned out to be. Lovely description of "good faith" melting on the tongue like sherbet but lacking the accompanying sweetness. As for keeping several balls simultaneously in the air, Sandra, nobody does it better!
DeleteVery well done, Rich. I, for one, look forward immensely to a continuation.
ReplyDeletecongratulations, Rich, what a way to come back, with the start of a stunning new serial!
ReplyDeleteAnd congratulations to everyone else, it was an outstanding week for class stories.
Manners Maketh The Man
ReplyDeleteArthur was meek. Easily dominated. When Enid proposed marriage, he acquiesced although his heart wasn't in it. Regardless, he looked forward to children. A dream Enid immediately quashed.
For their 25th anniversary, Arthur agreed to a trip north of the border. Secretly, he preferred Clacton-on-Sea with its pleasure pier and summer show.
Enid's sundress of sherbet pastels billowed as she peered into the valley below Foinaven peak.
"You'd jump if I told you to, wouldn't you Arthur?"
"Ladies first," he murmured.
He assumed she was dead before hitting the ground.
It felt good to be reckless while remaining chivalrous.
oh delicious revenge! What a terrific story!
DeleteFrom the title to the denouement, this is perfection. Well done Patricia.
DeleteBravo.
DeleteEnid got her comeuppance. Confidence might be sexy but it can also be deadly. A most beautiful episode, Patricia.
DeleteAbsolutely brilliant!
DeleteInfinity 193.
ReplyDeleteThe plans are in place, not that the crew know about it, reckless as they are, it would all be gone in a moment and I want to be back in Shipton when that happens. In The Ship Inn supping the landlord’s specialty, lemon sherbert dessert, that borders on decadence. Oh how the thoughts turn to home in these dark empty nights when there is naught but the journal when I crave an armful of woman.
I have no complaints. It has been a good adventure, memories of fights, loot, riotous ports and sunken ships… soon to be over.
Prompts, as ever, immaculately employed.
DeleteI haven't known the Captain long, but I'll miss him. Looking forward to seeing what next grabs you.
DeleteRetirement, is a time for reminiscing and of best laid plans. Do they gang aft agley? A very touching and superbly written episode.
DeleteOh how I've missed reading the Captain's story! So great to be back on board with him and hia motley crew.
DeleteSubtle references, but undoubtedly obvious that the Captain is longing for home and retirement. I'm sure his adventures will be far from over and done with at that point. Pity we will not be privy to his story. I will miss that rascal.
Deletethe Captain is definitely winding down, coming earlier to give me the instalment, looking wistfully toward the horizon and Shipton, in the story anyway. In 'real' life he lives in Shipton in a proper nautical cottage battened down against the ferocious gales that sweep in from time to time.
ReplyDeleteI will be sad to say goodbye when it happens but intrigued to see what my new communicator has to say.
I sad too, at his ceasing to communicate, but can only wish him a warm and welcoming woman.
DeleteAs much as I will miss the Captain, I must say this new communicator promises much and I look forward to being there from the very beginning this time around.
DeleteGreat story Rich and great choice Sandra
ReplyDeleteDaughters of the River
Stripped to the waist, the slender blond woman sat weeping among the rocks on the north shore of the Rio Grande. It was unlike someone of the border region to behave so recklessly. Her skin was nearly the color of raspberry sherbet and shone with sweat and slime from broken blisters.
Jose Luella Cruz approached wearily. “Miss, are you okay?”
The woman stopped crying and turned slowly, her small breasts quivering, a crooked smile on her lips. “What tasty morsel have we here?” she said as half a dozen salivating blond women swarmed with daggers gleaming.
Ooh - a differently-flavoured honey-trap, and can't help but feel sorry for Jose
DeleteSo, nice guys don't finish last, they get finished first. A wonderful tale John.
DeleteSome fantastic imagery here and a suitably dark tale - bravo!
DeleteThe Sirens meet the Amazons and what a picture that conjures! Beautifully vivid descriptions and the prompts so well hidden that they simply blended into the story. Magnificently done.
Deletestartling images, John, great piece.
DeleteRich, kudos on your excellent story. I though these prompts would be tough, then I saw the the initial offerings. So, now I turn this post over to your most unusual show.
ReplyDeleteTriangle Repartee-2
“I’m Ralph Knudsen and my question is for the H-man. Your home is rather dank, dreary and despondent. What do you miss the most from our world?”
“Ralph, Hades enjoys more than you think. Land borders on five rivers, excellent locations for living and entertainment facilities. My wife and I enjoy drinking pomegranate sherbets on our veranda. Are you the Ralph Knudsen of the Weymouth Knudsen’s?”
“Yuperie.”
“Never be reckless asking a god a question. Your wife, Thea, said that you’re an inept lover, Bertron was so much better. Oh, I’ll be seeing you again on September twenty-fifth.”
What a wrigglesomely nasty word is 'Yuperie' - Ralph almost deserves his come-uppance.
DeleteI love how this ends - brilliant!
DeleteThis was deceptive in its message. I must say, I am finding myself much more in tune with your pieces as time goes by. I will always admire your ability to think way beyond the box, but it's nevertheless nice to be able to relate. Nice job there, Jeffrey.
Deletegood writing here too, Jeffrey. I started at the end and worked back, either way Blogger doesn't like me so it doesn't matter...
DeletePARTY POOPERS
ReplyDeleteNext door’s daughter’s eighteenth birthday party was noisy … full of boys, altercations, and headboard tattoos. Perhaps somewhat recklessly, we shut our ears and gave them grace.
I awoke with head and eyes gummed with the sherbet of sleep-deprivation: all the mess and none of the enjoyment.
I eased downstairs, gripping rails for dear life. Walls made feints at me until I reached the fridge to rest my forehead on the cool white border between shelves and chassis.
OJ in hand, seeking air, I braved the back door.
A chaos of condoms, excrement, and destruction greeted me.
I phoned the police.
This a full-on sensory ... not delight, perhaps, but experience. I love the way you used the prompts, especially 'sherbet'
DeleteI agree with Sandra - the senses here are expertly used!
DeleteAs Sandra put it and Rich agreed, an absolutely marvelous assault on all the senses here. And, quite possibly the most innovative use of "sherbet" thus far.
DeleteIt's also about the scene as well as the words you used, in concert with each other.
Deletehow many of us have been there, the moments at the fridge are especially real, or so they tell me. (Daughter's boyfriend tried to pull the door off the fridge last time he was off his face) and to wrap the piece up with so vivid a depiction...
Delete‘Sweets for the journey’
ReplyDeleteChocolate limes and sherbet lemons, as anticipatory as the travel. Chilly car, pre-dawn departure, northwards to the Scottish border. Arrive in time to watch the midday ferry coming in.
So few years since.
Now, innocence become recklessness, I suck on hard to bring forth something less than sweet. And the white powder thus afforded something different altogether.
This unexpected ending was the cream for this story.
DeleteOh wow. How very dark. The last couple of sentences are especially hard hitting.
DeleteLovely underlying intentions and a somewhat unexpected conclusion. I do wish you hadn't mentioned chocolate limes. I just adore them and can't find them any place over here. I should have stocked up last time I was in London. Your stand-alone pieces continue to amaze.
Deletestark reality in 100 words. Just brilliant.
DeleteNight Messenger 3
ReplyDeleteKhandar, a city that borders the Lyell River, some would call her jewel or a gem. Those would imply a flawlessness or perfection. Others might say river pearl and again I disagree, for pearls are formed from a grain of sand. They are grown, like wheat. Now harvested, that might be an appropriate term, Khandar, Harvester of Fortunes, a reckless place where one could make their fortune just so somebody else can make theirs in taking it from them. I am Uxator, the best rogue this city has to offer, though I prefer entrepreneur, and conciser of sofla berry sherbets.
Jeffrey, your writing is getting smoother in leaps and bounds - just like your sherbets.
DeleteI love this. It reads like start of an epic fantasy series - well done!
DeleteThis was an inspired and creative piece that (as Rich references) could easily fit into the category of epic fantasy. For the second time this week, I find your writing to be much smoother and far easier to read than what has gone before. This place is good for you, Jeffrey!
DeleteSandra & Patrica;
DeleteMy humblest thanks for your comments. Its been supportive comments from all of you that has helped me improve, accept, realize and challenge myself. Improving my writing and my consistency as I continue my journey as a writer.
Rich;
This is the third installment, your welcome to check the last two weeks and read them.
Yes, this is a fantasy story, probably high fantasy, from an unfinished story. I wanted to see how and or if, I could deconstruct it in 100 word sections.
Also, a thankyou for your comments as well.
this is a serious improvement, Jeffrey, no rushing, thoughts went into it, you're getting there!
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 90-Other Side Of The Tracks
ReplyDeleteVaulting the turnstile, Hamnet sprinted toward one of the Arches. The Conductor made no attempt to stop the youth's desperate escape. Meddlesome behavior was never prudent.
On the Sanitarium lawn, two sisters argued the merits of sorbet and sherbet.
"More refreshing," insisted the younger, dressed in white chiffon.
"Less creamy," replied the other in red georgette.
Amused, the pair watched Hamnet stumble through the privet hedge and trample the hibiscus border.
"That was reckless!"
"Matron will have his guts for garters!"
From a second storey window, a pale face, eyes feverish, melted into its own reflection.
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To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale please visit:
http://www.novareinna.com/cripplegate.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
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You don't mention them (as you hardly do the prompt words) but I'm sure I see parasols here.
DeleteA very flowing and soft piece, like water just spilling over and around a rock, a welcome contrast among this weeks entries.
DeleteI'll definitely have to read the previous instalments of this - and that final sentence gave me goosebumps!
Deletejust mentioning dangling participles again... other than that, a superbly written piece.
DeleteArghh...thanks for the gentle jolt, Antonia. Those darn things always seem to read/flow so nicely until one gets into the breakdown of object/subject/etc. Happy it didn't spoil your enjoyment of my little offering though.
DeleteI do believe your vision is on the money, Sandra. Ran out of words to elaborate further, unfortunately.
ReplyDeleteBlack-inked words [Threshold 158]
ReplyDeleteRaven set the heavy book down. Pointed to where I should read, the cramped calligraphy less indecipherable than the roughness of the borders suggested.
Uncomprehending, I read a second and a third time. Raven handed me a parchment. Unfolding it released sand fine as sherbet and a waft of sweet tobacco I associated with my grandfather.
‘He?’ I asked, anticipating ancestral recklessness.
‘And she.‘ A twist of sour amusement.
‘Lovers?’ Impossible to imagine ancient limbs entwined in passion.
‘Cousins. And testamentary confusion. No way of knowing, now, who has the right if it –‘
‘Of –?’
He gestured ‘This place –’
Those unfinished slices of dialogue say so much more than words. I would say this is one of my favourite installments, but then I seem to voice that opinion every other week or so. Love the image of "cramped calligraphy."
DeleteAn inheritance as subtlety presented as the prompts are used. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteyet another fine instalment - clever use of the prompts here.
DeleteWow. Thanks folks - I'm genuinely stunned, as the quality of writing from everyone else was outstanding. Thanks! I'm just back after being at a metal music festival all weekend, so will have a read of everyone's latest entries when I get home after work this evening.
ReplyDeleteKursaal (Episode Sixty Four) -- "Cinders, The Convivial Clown"
ReplyDeleteCinders, older sister of Capers, hosted children's parties. Her pinhead condition cleverly disguised courtesy of a humongous wig the colour of lime sherbet, Cinders was an excellent planner. She designed her menu to provide the ultimate sugar rush, always ending the festivities with a game of hide-and-go-seek.
Although cautioned not to venture beyond the designated area, some children (particularly boys) whose energy levels bordered on recklessness, ignored Cinders' warning and later, failed to appear despite repeated callings of: "Olly, Olly, Oxen Free."
Cinders would recruit Capers to ferret out the little scalawags.
Unfortunately, their safe return could not be guaranteed.
---------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
Another deliciously dark final sentence!
DeleteReading this, I had a sudden vision of the Kursaal cast assembled in 'Sergeant Pepper' fashion. And 'sherbet' took you to new heights!
DeleteWhat a marvellous idea, Sandra. Now if I had any artistic talent at all, I'd attempt that. Unfortunately....
DeletePatricia, next will be the music for Send in the Clowns. A lightly diabolic story, if that isn't an oxymoron.
Deleteoh, darkness indeed in this instalment! Cleverly done.
DeleteA little continuation from the first one...
ReplyDeleteBack from the Dead
Jose Luella Cruz sat stiffly at an all-night diner along the western border of El Paso tending a slice of peach pie a la mode. The reckless behavior of the river sirens surprised him, not because of their brutal actions but because they seldom failed. Maybe he wasn’t getting old as his lady often reminded him. He flexed his shoulders and felt the stiches pull. Tomorrow he’d cut them out. For that, a pint of Old Crow was in order. He cursed himself silently for his carelessness and pushed his half eaten dish away. Who ever heard of sherbet on pie?
A welcome surprise to learn that Jose still lives :-) I hope there is more of this tale to come as I'm really enjoying it.
DeleteOh, goodie...a continuation in the same week. How delicious! And how nice to see that my "siren" reference was on the money. Do we get to experience more of Jose's "adventures"? I do hope so. You have created a most intriguing character.
DeleteYes to the continuation, of the tale and Jose. And an excellent illustration of how the description of a static scene can yet move things on. I especially appreciated the visual of 'He flexed his shoulders and felt the stitches pull.'
DeleteA very well done turnabout. Good uae of the prompts as well.
DeleteI've just edited and accepted a terrific story from John for my Victim anthology, dropped in here for light relief from other editing and find a very good instalment in this new serial. Thanks, John, it's all looking very good.
DeleteThinning (untitled WIP, part #2)
ReplyDeleteFor Alison Blackwood, it all started with the stunned realisation that her elderly father had vanished.
She'd gone to check on him before the home help turned up and she headed off to work.
But he simply wasn't there. The only signs of his presence the crumpled white sheets, the indent in the pillow, and the half empty glass of sherbet punch on his bedside table.
What had the reckless old fool done now?
But she never found him. And in the coming months, as the border of our reality became increasingly thinner, disappearances like this would become the norm.
I love a good mystery and it don't get no better than this. There's something almost gothic here. I don't know if it's the name "Blackwood" or the description of the empty room, but I know I like it. Very much. You don't intend to stop there, do you?
DeleteThat wonderful final sentence, coming after what went before, racks up the tension tenfold. And the anticipation.
DeleteRich an excellent continuation, it's almost like he woke up late and had to got to work himself.
Deleteexcellent depiction of the deserted room, giving an insight into the person who had disappeared. Looking for more...
DeleteHere I go with a submission from diner while at work.
ReplyDeleteTHE GAME
April rain goes pitter patt,
so sunbeams can rainows make
for ladies wearing their Easter hats.
Bouquets of flowers atop dresses of elegance
girls with fluttering eyes
and casting glances.
Sipping mint julips and honeyed tea sherbets
trays of finger food, being offered
chocolate spread crumpets and buttercream crackers.
Young men and thise wishing they were
boarder this social scene.
Their minds buzzing with reckless flirtations, of desires love.
Monogrammed school jackets and polo games
that each team plays.
The important question, never asked;
Which is the hunter and which the game.
Reminiscent of a day out boating on the lake at one of the esteemed colleges, such as Eton or Harrow. Something very elegant about this composition and nowhere near as obtuse as some of your works. I like the variations and this one was quite enchanting.
ReplyDeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #71
ReplyDeleteWhen You’re Friends with Assassins…
Maybe it’s reckless, but I want dessert. And I’m in the only hot country that can’t make frozen anything, not even sherbet. How hard is it to mix fruit juice and milk and freeze it? Anyway, Natasha and I are taking off for the border as soon as the eighth course finishes, though my current cover has only one passport. Luckily Georgiana taught me how to sneak past guards years ago.
What a fantastic title!
DeleteI always like it when Rosebud is talking about being on the move. It opens up a whole new vista for us to enjoy.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyable story that dessert on the go is reckless, but sneaking over the border isn't.
ReplyDelete