This the title of one of the workshops I shall be attending this weekend, although I’m
sure I learn just as much from several participants here.
I’m hoping each of you will take time to nominate your
favourite from last week and post it here before you begin to ponder the words
for next week, which are
emulate
spaghetti weak
Entries
by midnight Thursday 16th March, new
words ONLY posted on Friday 17th
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.
My favourite - Sandra Davies's Further Frustration [Threshold 154]
ReplyDeleteThank you, Perry.
DeleteTake 2 - and now to the challenge.
ReplyDeleteTWIST
James watched the collie dig at the bed of fragrant plants around the well which, in the breeze, emulated waves lapping at a stone jetty.
“LEAVE IT.” He lifted a hand
Jock raised an eyebrow from his muddy labours and turned briefly, grass hanging from his jaw like wayward spaghetti.
Tongue lolling, he continued, calling weak bluff.
James used the leash to drag the scamp into the cabin, having stamped everything back into place.
“Bad dog,” he scolded his remaining family.
Jock scratched at the door, whining. *Timmy’s in the well*.
“Timmy” wasn’t alone.
The blood on the axe dried.
Nice story, wayward spaghetti was a good line, just like the last line. Well done.
DeleteThanks, Jeffrey.
DeleteI love how the charm of wayward spaghetti turns to blood upon an axe.
Deleteneat, cold little piece, Perry, liked this a lot.
DeleteNicely misleading at the beginning and then nastily revealing at the end. This was expertly accomplished in the allocated number of words. I particularly liked "Timmy's in the well." It reminded me of the old "Ding Dong Dell" nursery rhyme.
DeleteThank you Sandra, Antonia and Patricia. It's very gratifying to get such wonderful feedback.
DeleteInteresting premise. It has a delightfully dark feel.
Delete"remaining family" did it for me... as you know I love a nasty twist, and this works very well!
DeleteI already cast my vote on Thursday, but in the event it gets lost in the shuffle, my "Pick of the Week" is: A.R. Martin's "Customer Service."
ReplyDeleteThank you, Patricia. :)
DeleteIt was a tough and close choice but A.R's Customer Service
DeleteMy vote went to Patricia's Of Choice, still a chilling one, humorous and nasty at the same time. But it was a tough call.
Delete"When ignorance is not exactly bliss" gets my vote for last week. Great job, Sandra.
ReplyDeletexoxoxo
“It means imitate,” I said.
Carlos had a toothpick in his mouth, a gun in his waistband, and a lot of stupid shit in his head.
“I ain’t emulating no one.”
Music drifted into the alley.
“You should be emulating a man who pays his debts.”
He shrugged. “Why? Ricky ain’t got nothin’ but weak bitches. Do I look worried?”
See what I mean? Stupid.
I moved faster than he could think, whipping the Desert Eagle out of my coat and kissing him three times. Hard. In the face.
Pop, pop, pop.
“No,” I said. “You look like spaghetti.”
Very nice and another strong story and after a Desert Eagle did kiss you three time, spaghetti is a rather apropos analogy.
DeleteThank you AM both for the vote and for this strong story - dialogue at its fast-paced, action-full best. What subtle pleasure I had from 'Music drifted into the alley' - a useful lesson in writing.
Deletegood one, exceptionally vivid imagery here.
DeleteThis moved so quickly, it was over almost as soon as it had begun. Vivid imagery and a particularly brilliant visual of the soon-to-be-unfortunate Carlos.
DeleteI wonder sometimes about the psychology of the Desert Eagle - I think it has a lot in common with Hummers. But definitely not good for the face, and that last line does a nice job of reinforcing the image.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteUm, I mean Pizza? Brilliant bit of Noir, A.R.
DeleteI vote for Patricia's 'Of Choice', though my other nomination would have to be Sandra's 'When ignorance is not exactly bliss'. I adore the description in the first sentence, and it is tight writing indeed!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Zaiure
DeleteThank you for the vote, Zaiure. For it to squeak in just above Sandra's "When Ignorance..." is indeed an achievement.
DeleteRistorante Italiano
ReplyDeleteThe bistro did not seek to emulate a fine dining experience. It was well aware of its strengths (scrumptious food at reasonable prices, open from midnight through the witching hour) and its weaknesses (squalid location, shoddy decor).
The neighborhood populace was transient. Here today, gone tomorrow. But the little café boasted its fair share of loyal clientele. Regulars who enjoyed the specialty of the house.
Spaghetti bolognese with a rich and hearty red sauce.
Ah, the memories of the Italian family restaurant, well captured and described...I could even smell the sauce.
DeleteI'm hungry and aching to go to Italy now.
DeleteA prime example of putting evil thoughts into readers' heads. And so clever with that 'transient' line.
Deletewe're back to vivid imagery again... something few people seem to capture these days.
DeleteI love how subtle this is. Blink, and you'll miss the implication.
DeleteThis is why I don't read the other entries before writing my own - I would have scrapped my story if I'd seen this one :( Subtle menace, the best kind.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 87-Whistle-Stop
ReplyDeleteMarmalade watched the Rook approach the nookery. Worms dangled from the bird's beak, glistening like wet spaghetti. The cat's pink tongue protruded in disgust. He refused to witness the ritualistic feeding. It was time for his daily policing of Cripplegate anyway.
His whiskers twitched as, in the distance, a train whistle could be heard. Marmalade was disconcerted. No arrivals were expected. The shrill first grew stronger, then weakened and finally ceased to exist altogether.
Emulating the prowl of a Serengeti tiger, Marmalade began his patrol.
Another crisis averted.
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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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Excellent - when you have to reread to detect all the prompt words in a delicious micro, that's a sign of class.
DeleteClass indeed, as Perry says, and delicious with it.
Deletethis is one class cat patrolling the station. It's a year today since the two mad rescue cats arrived at our home, I've learned a lot about cats since then and Marmalade is the epitome of feline deviance.
DeleteAh Marmalade and I do see a similarity with the preserve, had to look Rook up as I knew it wasn't the card game, a crow.Excellent descriptions as I was able to envision the entire scene.
ReplyDeleteThis was a tough group of prompts and I'm glad I was able to come up conjure up a submission that meant something to me, I hope I've been able to provide that to you.
ReplyDeleteDesire and the Journey to Death
Is death a desirable trait?
Is wishing you were never born, suicide?
Would granting such a wish be murder?
Spaghetti dreams and tomato sauce wishes
Still will never clean the dishes.
Why do people talk about strength of character?
When and by whom, was the standard set?
Pontificating mightily is a weakness, on that you can bet.
Life is happy and fun.
A finite journey
We laugh, we cry, we jump and we lie down.
Four legs, two legs, three legs, none
It’s then we learn our journey’s done
And that now we’ve emulated death.
A potent bit of free verse, dripping from the kill.
Delete'spaghetti dreams' an intriguing concept.
Deleteliked this, things to think about this eve as I battle with the last ten pages of a very difficult edit...
DeleteAs always, put together in a very unique style. The last few lines to me were very reminiscent of the mythological riddle of the Sphinx.
DeleteKursaal (Episode Sixty One) -- "Up And Away"
ReplyDeleteChief Constable Twittering was a martyr to acrophobia but when Isabella la Gaya suggested a balloon ride (the Kursaal's triumphant emulation of the Montgolfier hot-air creation), masculine vanity dictated only a weak protest.
The higher the ascent, the whiter Twittering's knuckles gripping the basket's perimeter. Isabella entwined elegant fingers around ropes securing the swaying gondola to the overhead balloon. The ties were slender as a camisole's spaghetti straps.
"To think these delicate attachments are all that prevent us from plumeting like a stone," said Isabella.
She raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"Ever ponder the exciting prospect of defying gravity, Chief Constable?"
--------------------------------------------------------
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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Oh, oh - spaghetti straps - wish I'd thought of them!
Deleteme too, Sandra, but not on the Infinity, methinks... nice episode, Patricia!
DeleteExcellent. Now I'm going to have to improve upon my own.
ReplyDeleteThis is good, I don't know if it's teasing or torture, then again it could be both.
ReplyDeleteUxbex 10
ReplyDelete“Mother Zubroc, did you feel it?”
“Yes, Tyroc, but why did you kill her?”
“Mother, I killed the human female. The body has yet to be found.”
“I thought…but it can’t be. Tyroc, no more games.”
“Why? I’m only proving a point about Uxbex.”
“Perhaps, but what if someone else is also looking for us?”
“Who could possibly…”
“Only one could emulate Uxbex.”
“She had so many slashes from the shattered glass; her body looked like it was covered in Terran spaghetti sauce.”
“You’re right, Uxbex is the weak one and Tourmaline has been baiting us since we killed her.”
A breeze of the Steppes there with names like Tourmaline and Uxbex, quickly dispersed by the alien menace. Intriguing vignette.
DeleteTourmaline makes an excellent name, doesn't it?
DeleteAntonia took the words out of my mouth!
DeleteThis was as intriguing as ever and the dialogue as sharp as ever. I echo the sentiments of both Antonia and Sandra, what a magnificent name is "Tourmaline."
DeleteHe stood naked before the panel and his normally virile legs, now as stiff as uncooked spaghetti trembled under the scrutiny.
ReplyDelete“Turn around, please,” said a bald woman at the end of a long table. She emulated weakness but was betrayed by concealed grit. Feeling the panel’s collective gaze burning into his firm backside, he cursed under his breath.
“Next,” she said.
He walked away, silently seething as the erection he’d failed to produce came to life a little too late.
Oh, poor man - but maybe not?
DeleteJohn, a scene I's never thought of and yet, very good prompt use in pulling it off. Concealed grit, good line.
Deletea clever little piece, John, raising all sorts of questions.
DeleteThis was indeed a clever piece. I am left wondering what this man was "auditioning" for. Like the vision of legs "as stiff as uncooked spaghetti." Hmmm...going to leave it there I think. I seem to be innocently heading into dangerous visual territory.
DeleteVery curiosity provoking. I find myself filling in a lot of blanks...in a good way.
DeleteA curious simile "stiff as uncooked spaghetti" - I think I like it.
ReplyDeleteCurious piece all round, leaving a lot for the reader to infer.
I think, though, that a person is required with the use of "emulate".
You can emulate SOMEONE'S weakness, for instance, but not the orphaned concept - as far as I understand it.
I could be wrong - it wouldn't take a blue moon in the sky for that to happen.
EREDITÀ DI UN RISTORANTE
ReplyDeleteThe melange of savoury, sweet and spicy aromas deluged Davide’s senses to intoxication as he watched Uncle Adolfo toss the spaghetti with grand aplomb, letting almost-ready strands trickle through fingers as thick as the kielbasa the antiphrastic Pudding Joe, an enthusiastic regular, was shovelling into his mouth at a rate which beggared his apparent weakness.
The boy sighed as he swung his legs from the little chair they kept vacant just to the side of the open kitchen – just so he could visit and watch … and learn.
He eyed his child-hands. How could he ever hope to emulate such magic?
'antiphrastic' - what a useful word! And 'kielbasa' a new one on me too. You seem to have crammed far more than 100-woeds worth into this.
DeleteA well described and enjoyed scene.
Deleteliked this one, more visuals, more descriptive phrases, it's been a choice week all round.
DeleteDelightful little vignette and some quite amazing comparisons. The ending comes with a delicious soupçon of wishful thinking.
DeleteThank you all. I quite enjoyed composing it too.
DeleteThe voice you chose -- flowing, flowery language -- that can be tough to pull off. You did it very well!
DeleteApologies for my absence; one result from the weekend was a request to read an ms and I've been head down doing a final tidying. Little time to read or comment here except to thank those of you who voted, and also those who chose mine.
ReplyDeleteDespatches [Threshold 155]
To describe Raven’s grandmother’s household staff as ‘skeletal’ was doubly accurate: all of an age with her and those whose bones were better covered than spaghetti weak-minded and incapable of judgement.
Or complaint, allowing us to forgo the royalty-emulating pomp of funeral she’d planned and enact a simple shroud-wrapped burial, Raven having dug deep enough for two.
Two days to despatch the staff to families or whichever house of faith they favoured; a further three to scour the place from cellar to attic.
We lit a bonfire from the rubbish then, new-cleansed, each faced the other, asking, ‘What comes next?’
An very good short yet the image that came to mind was that of The House of Usher.
DeleteAre we go find out what comes next? Or are you going to do one of your slideslips into another pathway of this intriguing serial?
DeleteI'm with Antonia on this. Do we find out what comes next or is there going to be a "sideslip into another pathway?" Quite frankly, 'tis of no consequence to me. I am happily along for the ride wherever it takes us.
DeleteThe morning after
ReplyDelete‘My evening? Deadly, darling. Never date a town planner! Especially if the plan is to eat Italian –‘
‘Not even if –?
‘No! Not even if first impressions suggest resolve will weaken –‘
‘Doesn’t it always? Sorry! I know some blokes shovel pasta like they’re loading tumble driers –‘
‘Oh, he didn’t get as far as eating! He preferred to be artistic with it!’
‘What? Emulating Jackson Pollock? Or more playgroup?’
‘Neither, darling. All he did was demonstrate road layouts. Specifically spaghetti junctions. Luckily, I know a man who builds them. Who happened to be pouring concrete just last night.’
Well that is one way to end a bad date. Very well done.
Deletethat's a choice little goodie, Sandra!
DeleteAn unbidden, "Oh, yes!" escaped as I came to this end of this, along with a resounding chuckle. You really are becoming quite adept at this type of tale. Were I of the male persuasion, I would think twice before running afoul of your expectations.
DeleteA denouement of casual cleverness.
DeleteGreat closing line.
DeleteBeen a bit pushed for time this week, but I shall definitely return tomorrow to add my comments to this week's wonderful array of entries.
ReplyDeleteChange of focus [226]
ReplyDeleteJohn Pettinger, emulating a weak-chinned psychologist he’d once been forced to visit, exuded pseudo-sympathetic encouragement. Setting finger-tip to finger-tip, allowing his gooseberry-green eyes to gaze into her damp blue, he enquired, unctuous as olive-oiled spaghetti, ‘Mrs Bailiwick, I’d prefer to hear about your husband in your own words.’
‘He, he was an honest, upright citizen, who deeply cared for this town –‘
‘That sounds like a manifesto –‘
‘It was!’ Barbara Bailiwick dabbed lace handkerchief to eyes. ‘He was the Independent candidate for mayor!’
Ah. That explained a lot.
Which was why Pettinger omitted to ask ‘Had he any enemies?’
gooseberry-green, what a choice description!
DeletePettinger is so good as deciphering that which often goes unsaid. Your descriptions are always so easy to picture and each one a visual treat.
DeleteWonderful imagery.
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #68
ReplyDeleteI’m Almost 5’8”
Natasha is far better at emulating a sideboard than I am at emulating a dwarf. My right leg and shoulder were deeply unhappy by the time we got to the spaghetti course, complete with coded warning from my favorite sideboard. I’ll avoid disguises with canes in the future, though they are useful in making people dismiss me as weak. It’s been quite useful to be underestimated in the past.
oh yes, that last line is so telling, haven't we all been there at some time?
DeleteAs ever, a lightness of touch near-concealing deepness of thought. And early too Rosie!
DeleteWhat a punch was packed into this little gem. I always look forward every week to the continuation of the Pirate Princess' adventures.
DeleteHow wonderfully quirky with wisdom intertwined.
DeleteInfinity 190
ReplyDelete190.
The rigging is a tangle of that spaghetti stuff, or it looks like that, certainly no one seems to be wanting to emulate the tidiness of the clippers that race across the great oceans at a speed even Infinity can’t match. As usual, when we docks in a port, the weakness of the men shows itself, women and grog, grog and women, just like I said. They swarm off the ship like a bunch of rats. They all be the same, no matter who I gets to crew Infinity for me. You would think loot would be enough but no…
"swarm off the ship like a bunch of rats" - so very visual. Poor Captain.
DeleteI fear the Captain will never find his perfect crew. Still, I imagine he will find ways to make do with what he is given. I appear to be "emulating" what is said by others this week, but at the risk of coming across a copycat, I too adored the visual of rats swarming off the ship.
DeleteServing his shipmates
ReplyDeleteLasky was the worst cook, the weakest crewmember. And they all made sure he knew it, especially Johnston.
But tonight the mess was crowded. "Spaghetti and meatballs? Wow!" Lasky just smiled and handed out another container.
More praise, voiced around mouthfuls of pasta, growing into glee as everyone ate. The captain paused, "How the hell did you get the system to emulate meat?"
A shrug. "Secret recipe."
"Damn, Johnston woulda loved this." A moment of silence for their lost comrade. "Wish he was here."
Lasky quietly pushed a large gray bag further underneath the countertop. In a way, he was.
Gruesome tale, told in your trademark laconic style, Bill, well done.
DeleteTee-hee. Magnificently subtle and evil. A tale after my own heart...or maybe Johnston's.
DeleteI've said it before, but I'll say it again. The quality of the pieces submitted here just keeps getting better and better. Certainly gives me something to strive for. Thank you all for providing examples that will hopefully improve my own writing efforts.
ReplyDeleteSeconded Patricia - and I'll add further thanks for those who regularly comment; you and Antonia are never-failing stalwarts of this site.
Delete