... Of which there has been an especial richness this week.
John’s ‘He
flexed his shoulders and felt the stitches pull’ first alerted me to how
effectively a small detail adds colour and uniqueness to a piece of writing,
then I found those put together by Rich
to give us Alison’s grandfather’s room, Patricia’s
Arthur, mildly murmuring, Antonia’s
‘borders on decadence’ and Perry’s
‘eyes gummed with the sherbet of sleep-deprivation’.
Jeffrey’s ‘Night Messenger 3’ wins the ‘leaps and bounds
‘trophy, for that’s what his writing has lately made and Patricia rises to the top with ‘Other side of the tracks’.
Words
for next week: falcon, fremescent, lurch
Entries by midnight Thursday 13th April, words and
winners posted on Friday 14th
Fake Story (real one pending)
ReplyDeleteHe typed fremescent into Google and got some hits. Actually, he misspelled it the first time and used copy/paste. He regretted his American mentality, his naivety of the finer points of the English language. The Falcons wouldn’t start their preseason until August, so he had plenty of time to come up with a clever use of the word. No sense leaving himself in the lurch with a kneejerk example. Or had he done just that? He opened his well-worn copy of The Oxford, scanned the fs and smiled to himself when it didn’t appear.
Oh, John, this is brilliant! I came across the word in Dorothy Dunnett's 'Disorderly Knights', she being a portrait painter who, not being able to find the sort of historical novel she wished to read, wrote them instead. Her books are rich and dense as tapestry, but I confess that, while it appeared in my Shorter OED ["growing noisy"] and Chambers ["growling, muttering"] fremescent was in neither of the others I have.
DeleteGood eh?
I like Collins's definition - rumbling; beginning to roar, and I love the casual air to this little anecdote. Fun.
Deletecongratulations to Jeffrey and Patricia!
DeleteGreat words this week. John, lovely piece there. I just typed the word into Google, asking myself why I paid for the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary vols 1 and 2 all those years ago when the Internet is right there...
Oh, Antonia, you disappoint me! My husband bought me the 2 volume set for my birthday last December and I get so much pleasure from it - would never dream of consulting Google.
DeleteA well done and out of the box perspective story, John.
DeleteA very clever use of the prompts there John, and a very Zeitgeist title.
DeleteThis was wonderful. And such an unusual use of the prompt words. Thank you for the chuckle.
DeleteBrilliant stuff John!
DeleteIt's been a while. Hope you like...
ReplyDeleteThat Noise
That noise again, the flapping of wings
The high pitched screech, it never sings
Silence...
That noise again, fremescent moaning
Unable to move, lifeblood running
Silence...
That noise again, the sudden lurch
The crunching of gravel below the perch
Silence...
That noise again, the hacking at flesh
The talons ripping, the moans afresh
Silence...
That noise again, the sucking of blood
A draw of breath ended by a thud
Silence...
That noise again, bones being broken
A killer known as Lucifer's Falcon
~End~
Like very much David - and even more that you have visited. We had such a visitation last year (different bird) and I recognise the stages of the action.
DeleteBeautifully atmospheric piece of poetry,David. Hummm, I reckon poetry ids cheating. LOL. Yeah, that's how good it is.
DeleteYou've opened my eyes. I've never written poetry or read much of it, but I found this very entertaining.
DeleteGood to see you again, David. Wonderful poem this, very chilling.
DeleteGreetings David and a nicely worded and constructed poem.
DeleteI love, love, love this. I've been away from here for three months and I can see I'm going to have to work bl**dy hard to return with an offering of poetry, especially after this fine piece.
DeleteI envy those who can compose such beautiful pieces. In addition, I appreciate it all the more when it comes in rhyming form. I've tried many times to create in free verse, but such never really feels like true poetry to me. Beautiful addition to this week's submissions.
DeleteLovely... and nasty!
DeleteQUAKE VICTIM
ReplyDeleteThe constantly fremescent breakers crashed upon sand the colour and consistency of wholegrain mustard; surf repetitively seething over crabs which the falcon had been eyeing.
Her telescopic vision had ascertained their armour was formidable, not the sort of think her beak was made for. She let out a call, more to hear herself over the ocean than anything else.
She was far from home, ubiquitous salt-spray irritating senses and clinging–
She shook her feathers and turned her head to scan back the way she had flown. The land had lurched violently, and she had fled. Was her home still there?
Really well done. Got into the falcon's head a bit. I always wondered why they called out the way they do for no discernible reason.
Deletedark thoughts here, Perry, very well expressed from a different POV.
DeleteThank you John and Antonia - especially for not mentioning that my finger hit the 'k' instead of 'g' in "[...] not the sort of think..."
DeleteSome lovely, very apt descriptions here, Perry. I especially enjoyed 'surf repetitively seething' and the viewpoint.
DeleteBeautiful. Written from the falcon's POV. Very well done and another out of the box submission.
DeleteThank you, Sandra and Jeffrey, very satisfying feedback. Glad you enjoyed.
DeleteI live on the coast and often sit on the beach and challenge myself in my writing to describe the scenes and emotions that I see and feel. I have to say that "sand the colour and consistency of wholegrain mustard" is absolutely inspired. A great piece of writing, that I want to read more of.
DeleteA compliment indeed, William. Thank you.
DeleteA most unusual and very unique take. I do hope our Falcon finds her home intact. This was vivid to the point that I could see her, head bobbing with open beak, searching the vista.
DeleteI really like this - would love to know what happens...
DeleteKursaal (Episode Sixty Five) -- "Down To The Ground"
ReplyDeleteKeaton Harrier was midway through her second demonstration when she noticed the slow descent of the meandering hot air balloon. Gawain, her favored Falcon, also spied the wayward craft, fremescent helium heralding its approach. The raptor shuffled restlessly on Keaton's arm, sharp eyes beneath the lacquered hood focused on the lurching gondola, which landed smoothly in the middle of the South Meadow.
Examination of the undamaged basket proved less than revealing. It was empty save for a beryl ring thought to be the property of crystal-gazer extraordinaire, Isabel la Gaya, and credentials bearing the name of Chief Constable Basil Twittering.
---------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
(NOTE: Keaton Harrier and Gawain the Falcon made their debut in Episode 30.)
And such lovely language here too, describing a vivid and intriguing scene.
DeleteLike Sandra mentioned, such simplicity in setting up an immensely intricate cliffhanger.
DeleteNicely done. I had bother with the fremescent helium until I realized this was part of a continuing SF/Fantasy tale with Steampunk inclinations. Love the idea of helium aircraft. We left that mode of transport far too soon.
DeleteDuring my absence I have missed my weekly enjoyment of Kursaal, It 's delightful to be reacquainted through such a lovely and intriguing instalment.
DeleteBeautiful prose that really draws the reader in - wonderful.
Deletean enchanting episode, poetic words rather than the usual razor sharp ones and it fits well.
DeleteOMG! My thanks for such words and as I've mentioned, my thanks to all of you for your help in my improvement. Now, to make sure I don't fall flat on my face this week.
ReplyDeleteMy first submission is a poem:
Falconary
Merlin, Elenora, Gyr, and Peregrine,
Never flinching, never lurching
Wing tip pirouettes and pas de deux
They have style, they have grace
They seek squab for their diner plate.
Amadeus’s Falco, soaring to music
Beethoven’s happy with his fifth,
Is that fremescent caterwauling wail from Bach and Motzart?
Feather lined eyrie, proud and true
So visible against a sky of blue
A brazen blazon on shield to see
Eagerly pursuing, always in the race.
Silent wings with many names,
Latin harvester and peasant’s tool
Sickle’s shape and shadow of death
And there is a myriad of lovely evocative words associated with a falcon, isn't there?
DeleteThe poem emulated their flight wonderfully. Very enjoyable. Couple of minor notes - did you mean dinner plate? And Mozart has no 't' - the Germanic 'z' is pronounced 'ts' which often misleads.
DeleteSandra and Perry;
DeleteThanks for you comments. Yes, I did mean dinner. When spelling is such a weakness spell check doesn't always help. Never knew about the 'ts' in german, again grammarly did catch it.
Yes, very much associated with falcon symbolism. In the second stanza I shifted to music. A song by Falco-Rock me Amadeus and though I forget the singer, a song entitled A fifth of Beethoven.
Hi Jeffrey,
DeleteAn enjoyable piece, the rhythm of which is mindful of soaring birds. I read twice as the the first time of reading I was distracted from your words and flow by the fourth line of the first stanza, as it immediately made me follow in my mind and replace the fifth line with "Rita Hayworth gave good face." When I got to the second stanza I understood the homage.
How well do I remember "Rock Me Amadeus." I think I may even have the 45 somewhere in my collection. The "Fifth of Beethoven" that springs to my mind was purely instrumental though. I really liked this piece. It had something of an Arthurian or epic feel to it in my opinion. Very nicely done.
DeleteWow - I love this!
Deleteyou're improving all the time, Jeffrey.
DeleteLeft In The Lurch
ReplyDeleteForsaken. Again!
Stood up. Again!
Marisol sighed. Reminiscent of the lady in Dietmar von Ais' poem, she was: "All lonely and fair," waiting for a lover likened to a falcon.
She sensed rather than heard the fremescent scrape of stone-on-stone. Behind her, the door to the lonely crypt lurched open. Dawn was on its way. Time to go inside once more.
Marisol refused to be despondent. Her Google search had turned up a plethora of dating sites. She hadn't even scratched the surface yet.
She repeated her credo as she entered the darkness.
"Never say die!"
This becomes darker with each successive reading.
DeleteAn intrepid explorer, abandon crypts and internet dating sites. A well done episode, Patricia.
DeleteOh, Patricia, now I want to know the poem, so I can read it.
DeleteAnother unexpected use of fremescent - nice - and the resonant play of stone-scraping with "scratching the surface". Menacing with a clever bit of writer's panache.
Patricia you never cease to push my boundaries and education, as Perry said I need to go read the poem now. A lovely dark piece.
DeleteI made a mistake in spelling the name of the poet. It is "Dietmar von Aist." Inadvertently omitted the "t" at the end and mention it only in the event someone goes in search of the referenced poem, which is titled "The Falcon." Sorry about that!
DeleteOh, I got the poet easily enough - pshaw a letter lost is nothing these days. I found it under "By the Heath Stood a Lady". Charmingly medieval and quite graceful. The poet does like Linden as a feature. Thanks for bringing Dietmar to my attention.
DeleteAnd the intertextual reference now adds a whole new dimension.
Dark and mysterious... fantastic stuff!
Deletevery dark, which suits me well!
DeleteChange of focus [230]
ReplyDeleteIn answer to ‘Where’s your mother?’ Aleks seized the laptop then subjected John Pettinger to a lurching Skype-enabled journey along dim corridors hung with paintings of silver bowls containing crabs and lemons; of falcons ripping flesh from bloody carcases and family portraits becoming, in a dizzy swirl, wooden panels as he backed into a part-open door.
Valdeta, seated, head turned away. Apparently deaf to the fremescence of infant distress issuing from her month-old daughter, blind-mouthedly seeking a nipple peremptorily withdrawn.
Aleks shouted, incoherent. Swung the screen so its camera faced the window. In front of which stood a silhouetted man.
[Apologies: I really need to check the final set of prompts and not what I scribble down elsewhere!
This was very enjoyable, Sandra. Using the laptop to show vs. tell, a nice entendre for us writers. Your prompt use was very good.
DeleteExcellently portrayed dizziness of perception through a laptop whisked along a corridor. Class. Need I say more?
DeleteThis is one Thunder ride. Love using the laptop as a device to say so much.
DeleteAs one does. :)
This episode is well worthy of an "OMG" gasp at the end. What a wicked place to leave us hanging, Sandra. Poor Aleks and poor Pettinger, unable to do anything but stare at a monitor. I would never have thought of using Skype to paint the picture. I'd declare, "How innovative," but then...consider the source!
DeleteSome fantastic imagery here - agree with Perry's comments above about the dizziness of perception!
Deleteit's those killer cliff hangers... again!
DeleteNight Messenger-4: How to attract a Thief
ReplyDeleteThe eastern wind meant no smells from the river, today. Dressed as a mercenary for hire, brown sash, purple edging, and a falcon epaulet I was already four purses wealthier. The spring festival was in three days and our guilds future income was streaming through the Estevium Gate, the throngs of people, carts and animals combined to created a constant fremescent drumming. I watched, as Philas ‘Redeye’ begin his ‘lurching drunk’ act. He was targeting a man, dressed in the southern fashion. Philas you’re a shit head, you forgot the rhyme; Magic and southern fashion, are the mages passion.
Oh - so well-observed and beautifully described. This covers but a moment's action with a depth that tells a much bigger story.
DeleteAbsolutely delightful. Fantasy at its best. What a wonderful name is Philas 'Redeye.'
DeleteThe more I read of this setting, the more I love it.
Deletewatch commas and apostrophes, Jeffrey, this was on the verge of feeling rushed again. Guild's - mage's, beware
DeletePhilas, you're a shithead, you forgot the rhyme; magic and southern fashion are the mage's passion.
The other thing is these odd sentences which start with words that would be better placed in the middle. Dressed in...
why?
I was dressed as... then it makes more sense with the four purses, think about it. I've rejected a story tonight for that reason, too many 'odd' sentences. Turn them round! So, this is good but could have been sharper and better with thought. or is that just me? (Jeffrey posts work on Legendfire, Patricia and I get to read a lot of it!)
I should have used disguised instead of dressed. I it's not you, just how familiar you are with my writing. In a 100 word story, errors become much more pronounced and therefore degrading to the story.
DeleteI hope this is okay but, for any who'd like to read a story that I'm doing this month for Legendfire, the link is below. It's just draft postings and is a prequel to a story I hope to send for a final edit in a month, saving the money.
Deletehttp://www.legendfire.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=22473#entry171142
Rogue attraction
ReplyDeleteNigh on a century before William Cowper put it into verse: ‘Shaggy and lean, and shrewd with pointed ears, And tail cropped short, half lurcher and half cur’.
Whatever, he was poetry in motion. Grace in repose. Swift as a falcon and, yea, as merciless when it came to pinioning me.
I should have struggled but the ever-fremescent note of complaint in the less-than-dulcet voice of his wife were coming nearer. And I feared to cry halt before he’d done.
Was it worth the ammoniac deluge of the upended chamber pot?
I think so.
Washed off sooner than her bruises.
There is such a harvest of sights and sounds here that it's far too difficult to pinpoint any one instance as a favourite. Therefore, I announce the entire tale to be absolute brilliance. How you managed to insert the prompts words into what appears to be such a period piece without them seeming out of place is simply amazing.
DeleteNot familiar with the works of William Cowhere, I'm not sure what this half lurcher half cur is, but I like it. I like the whole thing and this brilliant writing going on. You may have to vote yourself to the top this week.
DeleteThe number of times I have made that observation is legion, John. But I've yet to see it come to pass (unfortunately).
DeleteThank you kindly both, but this I'd have disqualified for mis-matching the single 'note' to the plural 'were', miscorrected at the last minute.
DeleteYou know, I did notice the 'were' thing, but the more I read it, the more I convinced myself it might be okay. See how easily I'm swayed?
DeleteSome lovely turn of phrase here!
DeleteA tour de force of sensory impact. Using 'were' as a short for werewolf was beautiful.
DeleteThanks Jeffrey, but 'were' should have been 'was'. I can't see me ever writing about werewolves (although I loved Glen Duncan's)
Deletethis is beautiful evocative horror writing, in many ways.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 91-Tempus Esse
ReplyDeletePoppy, proprietress of the Turnstile Kiosk and avid devotee of American detective novels, was about to kill time until closing by rereading Dashiell Hammett's "Maltese Falcon," when fremescence indicative of a fired boiler echoed along the platform.
This was a most unexpected occurrence since there had been no mention of the train's departure. However, the locomotive gave only a single violent lurch before screeching to a halt a few feet from its original location.
Acting on instinct, the Conductor blew his whistle and called, "All aboard."
It was an announcement he immediately regretted.
--------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
Regretted, no doubt, for a good reason, one we'll have to wait for for more than a week I suspect. How clever (as ever) your use of the prompts, especially 'Falcon'.
DeleteLove it! I want to know what happens next!
DeleteJust a well done story.
Deleteso much intrigue and strange happenings going on at the station, tis a wonder it still stands!
DeleteBurden of proof [Threshold 159]
ReplyDeleteI dropped the parchment as if it was red-hot. Watched Raven’s hand emulate a falcon in his diving for it. Horror fought with fremescent disbelief.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! It’s nothing to do with –‘
‘With you?’ A twist of mouth which lurched – did it? – from smile to grimace (or vice versa), ‘Ah but it is.’
Patiently, he took me through tables of generations. Through marriages and bloodlines, legal and much less so. Digressions: hunting through boxes of documents to confirm hereditaments and beneficiaries. Cross-checking dates to confirm validity.
Eventually, exhausted, ‘I don’t understand –‘
‘Me neither. But it’s patently true.’
Suxh great used if the prompts and fantastic prose too!
DeleteYes, well melded prompts, disolved like sugar in coffee. Now, least we not forget the great story you wrote.
DeleteVisually enticing and exciting. I adore the way you handle dialogues, leaving much unsaid. Another gem in a sea of sparkling jewels this week. It just gets better all the time.
ReplyDeleteraising the standards again... it gets harder to get better every week...
DeleteAmen to that...!!!
DeletePrey (untitled WIP part 3)
ReplyDeleteAll the birds were gone. The eagles, the peregrine falcon, the tawny owl. All gone.
Susan stared at the empty cages. 'Who could've..?' she started, before bursting into tears.
David just stood there, with a sense of growing horror.
He'd seen the news reports of those who had vanished from the hospital beds and prison cells
And he'd heard the stories of those who'd woken up with a fremescent droning in their ears and a strange pulling sensation across their body. People who'd lurched desperately to their feet and moved quickly on autopilot as if fleeing from some strange nightmare...
Love the mystery. Empty cages, unexplained events, along with fear.
DeleteA very well written story.
In addition to well-used prompts and a great opening sentence you've created space and high tension in a very few words.
Deletehuman emotions over a non human happening, captured in a few words. Brilliant.
DeleteExpertly crafted to draw the very most out of the given prompts. This was almost poetic and I read it several times, each time finding something new to appreciate.
DeleteInfinity 194
ReplyDeleteInfinity lurches into the unknown, I made it clear to the First Mate and crew that the falcon no longer wished to fly, but if they could withstand the fremescent sound of the authorities chasing pirates from the seas, they were welcome to the ship. They said they could.
We sailed into Shipton harbour. I went ashore with my possessions and no regrets. No one waved. They sailed out on the evening tide.
With the Creature aboard. No one knows of it being there.
Goodbye Infinity, goodbye crew. You should have asked more questions. You should have thought… too late.
And yes (though it could be the stiff westerly breeze) I find my eyes are a little damp.
DeleteSo sad to see this end. But The Captain deserves his retirement, so it's a bitter sweet ending of sorts.
DeleteRetirement is a desire not a forgone conclusions. Doesn't mean I'm not sad.
DeleteI'm glad I was here for this conclusion and that magnificent first sentence that contained all the prompt words effortlessly.
DeleteTruly admirable conclusion that set the tone to perfection. Seems fitting that the Captain received no farewell waves. And so, the Infinity takes on a new phase of life...and with the Creature. I knew we had not seen the last of the beast. Well, we have now (presumably), but up until this point. I look forward to the new serialization and am delighted to be here for the inception of this one.
DeleteSandra, I don't write in the room where the dictionaries live, there's no bookcase in my office, so the internet is the answer to everything. I actually bought the set to help me translate a 15th century report of a major tournament into modern English. I found about a third of the 'strange' words in the two volumes but the rest I had to guess at. Anna loves the books, spends ages lying on the floor turning pages, calling out 'XXXXX, do you know what that means?' and answering before I can... so they are used. She's the puzzle fanatic.
ReplyDeleteAnd so, Blackbeard bows out and my new narrator is around, the Mad Italian himself. I know he's often with me. Last year at this time he dictated a letter to the son of my publisher/friend. He walks closely with the son, which my friend found out when he announced in the middle of a round of golf. 'Leonardo dropped in last night to say...' and when Stuart asked the obvious question, his son said 'Leonardo talks to me when you're too busy to listen to him.' Since then Leonardo has bounced between Stuart and me. He spent some time drinking ale with Blackbeard, goodness knows what they talked about, they wouldn't tell me (of course.)
Stand by for some strange adventures...
I know what you mean about space - it took a bit of reorganisation to ensure the dictionaries were in a place where it would be easy as Google to use them - 2 deer from my elbow with room to slide them out and open them.
DeleteLook forward to tbe next set of adventures.
And fascinated to hear of your Antony Woodville activities. Don't know if I've mentioned her before but Dorothy Dunnett has written of a tournament in one of her Lymond book. Now there was woman who loved her research!
ps: the report of the tournament came out at 8000 words in all. It was for the journal of the Richard III Foundation. Well received, apparently. A lot of work, the descriptions of the draped horses, the colours, the fringes, all strange words which we've long since dropped from the language. This is the magic of Antony Woodville, I can spend hours working on his life story, and will be, when all else is settled. I am 47000 words into it and am half way, at a guess. He's an extraordinary person, incredibly literate, and yet most of the population has never heard of him. His book The Dictes and Sayinges of the Philosophres was the first book printed by William Caxton. (I have a facsimile copy of it). Getting carried away again, apologies...
ReplyDeleteNo need for apologies, Antonia. This was utterly fascinating. I once wrote about Richard III giving alternate scenarios for the deaths of the little princes, one where he is the villain and one where he is an innocent. I'm sure the historical details are way off the mark, but it was an interesting self-assignment. Anyway...my point...this was far too fascinating to be accompanied by any apologies.
DeleteStars is having a series, The White Princess, starting this weekend. What I've read about does sound rather good.
DeleteHeres a link
Deletehttps://www.starz.com/series/thewhitequeen/episodes
thanks, Patricia! Maybe I will drop some mini info dumps into the Challenge as the weeks go on. The Wars of the Roses is one of the most complex periods of English history, nothing straightforward about any of it, disloyalty, executions, battles, power hungry magnates who own half of England and want the rest (Earl of Warwick) kings in exile, kings returning, two kings at one point and who murdered the one entitled to be on the throne at that time? Even taking Richard III out of the equation, the remainder, Edward IV & Co, the Woodvilles, present a rich and varied tapestry to draw on. The battle of Towton, 10 hours of fighting on Palm Sunday, in driving snow, 28,000 men killed, the Yorkists victorious.
ReplyDeleteWhich reminds me, I was at Appledurcombe House, an extremely old ruin here on the island, when re-enactors were there. They came round the side of the house, drums sounding, shouting 'A-York! A-York! and I went cold from head to foot. They were good. I went there when 'Henry VIII' was visiting, not so good. Imagine Henry standing back and waiting while someone undid a rope barrier for him... very unlike the Henry I know!
Rosie challenged me to write with these words when I thought I had nothing. Still not sure I have something, but for what it's worth...
ReplyDeleteDelivery Boys
"My stomach is fremescent, will we stop for supper?"
A scowl beneath beetled brows. "Whadda hell you talkin' about?"
"My stomach. It's rumbling, you know, with hunger?"
"No, I dunno, your damn fancy words. Quit it or I'll smack you one."
The younger man looked away, muttering.
"You callin' me stupid?" He lurched forward, fist raised.
"No, I was observing the effect of your upbringing."
"Yeah? Well stop bringing it up!"
He turned his beady gaze to the black shape sitting heavily on the seat between them. "We gotta get this boid delivered."
"It's a falcon."
"What'd I tell you?"
Love the idea of a fremescent stomach, Bill - well done for rising to Rosie's challenge.
DeleteBrilliant. Really nicely done.
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #72
ReplyDeleteSlightly Suspicious
The train lurched to a stop as we finally reached the station, Firebird Station that is, just outside of a town known for falconry. The stationmaster always warns the locomotives not to be too fremescent, though of course she just says “loud,” no one actually says “fremescent” these days. We’ve come in search of the white falcon. She’s the only one capable of flying into the castle of the Ice King, ruler of the Land of Ice and currently not our enemy. He says he’ll send the falcon back with his information on the Land of Fire.
Lovely as ever, and clever use of all the prompts - very smooth.
DeleteI really enjoyed this - great writing and great use of the prompts
Delete