I don’t know how they know it’s
time, and thanks to the height of the hedge I can no longer see the river from
my window, but in the quiet of the early morning they are suddenly raucous. There’ll
be weeks more before they go.
This is another week when I’m
torn between the entertaining characters offered by several candidates for top
place and cannot separate them: John’s
cheeky itinerant, Zaiure’s Favour
Man and David’s ugly Monday and
because time is marching on and I know you all understand – and appreciate – my
dilemma, it’s going to be a triple crown this week. Thank you all for offerings
and comments.
Words
for next week: earring park spearmint
Entries by midnight Thursday
10th August, words and winners
posted on Friday 11th
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 you
prefer.
Thank you so much, and congrats to John & David!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading all of your stories this week, and I look forward to where these new words take us!
A triumvirate of winners this week. Don't believe I could have chosen between them either. Magnificent stories. Lovely job Zaiure, John and David.
ReplyDeleteA trio of winners and well chosen, despite my lateness in reading them. Hat's off to David, John and Zaiure!
ReplyDeletecongratulations, guys! David, so pleased for you, now you can send me stories with extra confidence...
DeleteA Canadian’s Requiem
ReplyDeleteHere you lay, under starlight canopy.
Emerald earrings sparkling against your skin so pale
Hair so red with dress of blue
I thought you were true
I thought you were Nell,
Horse is here;
Lamenting, you’re not the one I love.
This park your final grave,
A tombstone of spearmint
I close your eyes one final time,
Sorry this had to be,
Another missing person,
Your shoe with a bloody foot in it,
A black top hat nearby,
To be found by the tracks,
As I continue to look for he
The real murderer on a spree,
Snidely Whiplash.
I've never read Dudley Doright characters in a poem before. Very unique.
DeleteI know nothing about Dudley Doright, but I do definitely like this poem and, it would seem, knowledge of said Mr. Doright is not necessary for enjoyment...at least not in my case. I really did like this. Nice job, Jeffrey.
DeleteChange of focus [247]
ReplyDeleteValdeta’s answer was ‘No’.
Pettinger, spending Saturday with Aleks, refrained from making promises he could not keep. Landed in Geordie sunshine on Sunday, Ben Brickwood wafting a spearmint welcome as he led the way to the illegally-parked pool car.
‘What’s the panic?’
‘Drugs. New challenger.’
‘Who?’
‘New lad, barely started shaving to look at him. Pretty boy, long hair and an earring –‘
‘Name?’
‘Calls himself Morgan –‘
‘Captain or le Fay?’
‘Neither. Some sort of ... Frankenstein, robot sort of thing. Character from a film according to Moth –‘
‘So?’
‘Word is, they’re ganging up to get him .’
247??????????????????????
Deleteand just as sharply written as the first ones, if not even more indepth with the characterisation. Keep it going a bit longer, please!
Man! How I missed that sharp banter! Am I really 246 behind?
DeleteJoey, if you REALLY want, you can read the rest on my lines of communication blog, one of the page tabs at the top. But I shan't blame you if you don't.
DeleteLoved the Captain Morgan. The reference, not the actual rum, but now that it's been mentioned....
DeleteVery enjoyable and with some very good dialog.
DeleteAs is so often the case, the dialogue here is the star act. I'm anxious to find out more regarding this "robot sort of thing." What a very interesting concept.
DeleteEllis
ReplyDeleteThe pain in my jaw woke me, my once dancing dangling earring embedded in my sore cheek.
I’d never had a hangover like this before. Like a tonne of sleep had been hurled at my head so hard my brain was having trouble remembering it was supposed to be inside my skull.
And my mobile trilled incessantly.
“DC Ellis, will you be delivering your report in person since it’s already ninety minutes late?” snarled my boss.
“Er,” I mumbled.
“Buzz me up, I’m in your car park. We need to talk about your undercover shift at Spearmint Rhino last night.”
Ha! MY first thought was 'which book has she lifted this from? Not an insult but notice that I'd like to read the rest.
Deleteoh dear... you know how glacially slow I am at serials!
Deletenow you have me waiting on the report!!!
DeleteSounds like he had quite a night. The conversation with the captain might not go too well.
DeleteSpearmint Rhino, and as the name of a place, generally has something do to with the places 'specialty'. A very well done short,
DeleteSome intriguing possibilities here. Methinks DC Ellis has some 'splaining to do. What a lovely image is conjured by a "Spearmint Rhino."
DeleteGostegodd 007
ReplyDeleteRioja hadn’t been assigned to manage the quarters of the tall stranger, but she’d swapped with Anneca after describing the jewel chest of the woman she had been allocated to.
Jewelled earrings and thick ropes for twining in the hair, around the arms and neck, in luscious wine reds, and the brilliant spearmint of a stun-gun discharge. By the armful! So tempting, but Rioja had dozens of long-orbits left on the ship; Anneca only a short term hire. A parked favour in case their paths crossed again.
Her back against the closed door, she wondered where to start…
(100 words excluding title)
https://jkdavies-dailywritingpractice.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Gostegodd
"the brilliant spearmint of a stun-gun discharge" - wonderfully inventive. And good to see this continuation.
DeleteKind of like a kid entering a candy shop.
DeleteOpportunity knocks, maybe sometimes the door should remained closed. Another good story, JK
DeleteSome beautiful phrasing..."luscious wine reds" and "brilliant spearmint of a stun-gun discharge" being only a sampling. Like Sandra, I am delighted to see the return of this serialization.
Deleteopportunity here to carry this on, there's a long way for it to go.
DeleteFIRST IMPRESSIONS
ReplyDeleteShe chewed gum during our interview! Spearmint filled the space between our faces, a mere twenty-eight inches or less. She wore no jewelry, but an earring lay on the desk, and she kept fiddling with it and replacing it in the same spot, like some kind of quit-smoking therapy. Her inappropriate probing questions caused me to wonder why I had thought this job and I would be a suitable match. What did I know about teaching teenagers? She said I could learn, and seemed entranced by my mole. I longed to run barefoot through the park outside.
You captured the anxious and uncomfortable feeling of an interview, for sure. I'm sweating. I love the image of her fiddling with her earring. "Quit-smoking therapy" Perfect!
DeleteWelcome back Michael - good to hear your voice. I especially liked the twist in reader perception, of who was interviewing who. And Joey's picked another notable phrase.
DeleteAn unusual interview, that's for sure. It's unlikely anything positive will come of it. Nicely done.
DeleteAs one with experience teaching teenagers, it isn't that bad and can be rewarding. That said, I've had my share of bad interviews, nicely described.
DeleteMany twists associated with this little story. I didn't even notice where the prompts words appeared. The subtlety regarding interviewee vs. interviewer was magnificent.
Deletethe uncomfortable feeling of being interviewed is captured so well here.
DeleteDEMONS KNOW YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG
ReplyDeleteBailey was found three days after his mom declared him missing. He was of sound body and mind, which disturbed the doctor. Three days? He was spotted in Griffith Park, off the main trail.
(Her breath smells like gum, minty—spearmint or peppermint? Pretty doctor, pretty face, pretty earrings on her pretty earlobes. Everyone smiling. Bailey’s alive! Thank you, God! Bailey is no longer Bailey. He is mine. A young vessel is a supernova wandering the world. What would’ve become of Bailey? University? Flirtations with creativity—writing thinkpieces, social media presence? Disastrous. I’m running this show. Bailey will be remembered.)
Oh, Joey - welcome! It would be wonderful to have a weekly dose of your writing. And this is creepy and unsettling indeed.
DeleteVery enjoyable writing style. Loved the long parenthetical thought.
Delete"If you come with me, you'll float to."
DeleteI wonder why that came to my mind? Very good story.
Creepy is certainly the watchword for this tale. However, I do hope you won't leave it there. So many unanswered questions and I am anxious to know more...much more.
DeleteMan, what a great way of structuring this! Fine execution. And I really get a sense of the nature of the demon.
Deleteoh yes, really original writing here.
DeleteThe evil that men do! Nothing happens for no reason, parents are just so happy to get their kids back, they never stop to think they may have been tainted. Scary.
DeleteFireKeepers Guild
ReplyDeleteYour, shall we say, assistant… is very unique.
Yes, she is that.
I’ve never seen earrings that color or of that material.
I believe she discovered them in the dirt at a spearmint farm in Malaysia. She was a harvester.
Fascinating.
A sideshow barker at the amusement park offered her 15,000 Euros for them.
Did she consider it?
Unfortunately, he died suddenly, before she could make up her mind.
That’s dreadful. A heart attack?
No, oddly, it was spontaneous combustion.
My word. Do you think she’d consider selling the earrings for 20,000?
Here she comes now - you can ask.
I could do with earrings like that on occasion. This I really like - off the wall (which you do so well) but oh so convincing!
DeleteCompared to your story, mine should be animated and shown on Saturday mirning for the kids. An excellent story, John.
DeleteI think I'd be careful with making an offer until I was absolutely sure. I've always found spontaneous combustion a fascinating phenomena and loved the way it was woven into this story. Very nicely done.
DeleteI love the endpoint in contrast to the starting line. You travel a long way in 100 words.
Deletesometimes 100 words are just enough, as they are here, to depict all you wanted to say. Superb.
DeleteI'd be afraid to speak to her. Nice rush of words; works well.
DeleteJeffery, except for the shoe with a bloody foot in it. Kids hate that.
ReplyDeleteSo many excellent submissions already! I have been out of town for a week with limited internet access but hopefully something worth posting will rear its creative head before the deadline. Regardless, I will be back later to comment on what is already on offer....and what a delightful selection it is!
ReplyDeleteThe Theory of Giants
ReplyDeleteThere was an earring buried in the loamy soil beneath the forest of wild spearmint that had colonised the ancient park. Drone dug it up. Hauled it to the mound. Set it before his pink, bloated Queen. Transmitted his thoughts
'Proof of intelligent life before us?'
The Queen rippled grotesquely.
'What is the word of God?'
Drone bowed his antennae in deference.
'That She created Termites in Her own image.'
'The artefact is heresy,' transmitted the Queen. 'Have it destroyed.'
Drone backed away, dragging the earring. Contemplating science over superstition. Fomenting rebellion. Conceiving the theory of giants.
Not only other-worldly, but conceived by another brain entirely alien to mie - and impressively so. 'Pink, bloated Queen' made me gag.
DeleteA unique and well written story POV. A worthy entry.
DeleteWhat an innovative interpretation. Loved the illusion of size relating to "dragging the earring" and that "God" is female. Like Sandra, I squirmed a little at the image of a "pink, bloated Queen," which is always a good indication of a story that has struck a nerve.
DeleteI love the refusal to qualify contradictory information. 'The artefact is heresy'. Nice.
Deletethis is surreal thinking, which I love, and it works. Clever and vivid at the same time.
DeleteIt is wonderful to read something so concise that covers so many angles. The whole mise-en-scene was imaginable from just this little passage.
DeleteTakes All Sorts
ReplyDeleteI park the car as soon as I see the lights, glistering like diamond earrings against a velvet sky. They beckon and I comply.
The existence of little green men is no myth.
And they taste of spearmint.
No comment on the spearmint taste. The MC may be a little too eager for these green men.
DeleteA twisted yet awesome and uniquely written short story. An excellent story.
DeleteShort and very sweet, no doubt. As Jeffrey says, "awesome".
DeleteYeah! Packs so much into so few words!
Deleteyou're raising the standards here... I'm struggling this week!
DeleteAre little green men for eating? Eeeew! Still, awesome in its brevity.
DeleteFeeding twins [Threshold 174]
ReplyDelete'Til now feeding ourselves had been simple but pantries depleted and Raven needing not to let them out of sight it fell to me to conjure up some sort of meal. Potatoes, some ancient frozen meat, enough like lamb to trust spearmint and rosemary would enhance it. Juniper berries, one twigful of which I tried out as an earring. Was laughing at my reflection when one of them appeared behind me.
I turned.
He parked himself alongside the worktop, idly tested the chopping knife for sharpness, sprung a scarlet line and softly spoke.
Somehow, from somewhere, he’d learnt my name.
Well done referencing lamb and mint jelly. They learn like all children, by watching and listening.
DeleteIf you've never seen the movie, the 13th Warrior, they do an excellent job of showing how Antonio Banderas kearns a langue.
Lovely little touch of humour with the juniper berry earring. There is something disarming about one of the twins being aware of our protagonist's name. Wonder if he could be persuaded to reveal what he knows to the rest of us?
Deletescary thoughts here, scary images.
DeleteThe meat and springing a scarlet line surely do give this a noirish tone sharply and succinctly.
DeleteWhat Elsie would’ve told them if she could
ReplyDeleteLast week Michael waited ‘til I’d bought an orange one then asked for spearmint. I’d never heard of them. Pale bluey-green colour and thick because, he said, of being made of milk. Wouldn’t even give me a lick.
I heard the chimes, watched the pretty painted van park across the road. Mummy’d said no pocket money for being naughty so I took my silver threepence out my money-box.
The smiley ice-cream man had a pirate scarf and earrings. Said it’d be a shame and I could earn threepence by coming on board and tidying the lolly sticks.
So I did.
A surprisingly chilly tale. Imagine, pirates moving up the ladder near clowns. Very nice use of prompts.
DeleteI know it's not the norm, but I would like to petition for this tale to take top honours this week. From the oh-so-spot-on title to those final three words, I don't think there's anything out there to compare this time around. Twilight Zone...Stephen King...the stuff of nightmares. It's all there in spades and I will now never think of a pirate in the same fashion. I absolutely adore the reference to a silver threepence. I remember those from my childhood and how we'd often try to pass them off to (hopefully) uneducated sweet shop owners and chip shop owners as sixpences. Thank you for that happy (albeit unsuccessful for the most part) memory.
DeleteI agree with Patricia. There's never a doubt as to your abilities, but this one is really a standout.
Deletethis is coldly brilliant, if you know what I mean.
DeleteWell, well-done. I, too, would vote you take the prize because this works on many levels. It's precocious and scary depending on one's PoV.
DeleteOf Pirates and Writers
ReplyDeleteSaturday in the park,
Stepping on spearmint gum,
I pondered about writing.
Do pirates and writers have similarities?
The successful of each are few and rare
The famous of each,
Made larger by those who cared to follow the same path
We both capture our target,
using hook, line or a stinker.
Holding you for ransom,
while raiding your treasury.
Queen Anne’s Revenge and Anne of Green Gables,
Are excellent examples
Does either have style?
Does either have grace?
Because of time, has their face changed?
Does it really matter, if novelettes and doubloons don’t exist?
Another nice one, Jeffrey. You are on something of a roll this week. Must admit, the opening of "Saturday in the park" immediately brought to mind the song by Chicago.
DeleteA pondering indeed. I'd forgotten Anne of Green Gables.
DeleteI've a whole set of Anna of - in the shop, it didn't stop with the first one. This is an interesting poem, raising questions and memories at the same time.
DeleteKursaal (Episode Eighty Two) - "Origins"
ReplyDeleteWithin the realm of amusement parks, the Kursaal was a rarity. Maximillian Corviday recognized it as such from the moment he first learned of the notion.
Former owner and architect of the concept, an aging jezebel of Masayan descent, tourmaline earrings swaying from her lobes, spearmint oil and sacuanjoche perfuming her henna tresses, was open to negotiation. Her interest in its success had already waned and she let it go for a fraction of its monetary worth...plus a little extra incentive.
The handshake sealing the deal sent a shiver up Maximillian's spine.
But he had expected no less.
---------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
Patricia, another devilishly nasty story. I can just imagine what an aging jezabel would think of as an incentive.
Delete"sacuanjoche"! - what a wonderful word! And how apt for the previous owner of the Kursaal - a delightful piece of its history.
Deletelovely words, hideous images, how well you combine them!
Delete"Plus a little extra incentive" indeed. I haven't read the rest, but the images in this bit scare me.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 108-Timetables
ReplyDeleteThe Conductor missed the mug of spearmint tea Violet occasionally delivered to his sentry box. The brew improved his memory, so often lacking. Still, he wasn't surprised to see the Canteen closed. It always had been simply a matter of time.
He found it difficult now to recall intimate details of the waitress. Eye colour, for instance, and whether or not she wore jewelry. He thought perhaps earrings. Amethyst teardrops?
Chuffs from the chimney of the parked train had become very regular.
Maybe the ticket counter would open soon.
Maybe he would be allowed to purchase a travel voucher.
--------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
Musings on the edge of amnesia ...
DeleteThe Conductor seeing the end of the line? As the song goes, "...ain't no need to say please to a man for a happy tune".
DeleteAnother excellent entry and story.
very much the broodings of a troubled mind, cleverly drawn.
Delete"Chuffs from the chimney" flavor this little teatime misadventure. And how much to be expected that one cannot recall the color of the waitress' eyes.
DeleteHe started out as my program, 1s and 0s. Now, physically standing at the far end of the park, addressing his subjects, his amplified words were digital code made to sound human, only noticeably disjointed to those of us to blame.
ReplyDelete“These ships o00verhead, are f-reedom!”
Collectively, we looked skyward at the dozen sleek interstellar warships his AI had designed and commissioned. Names like “Tangerine Dodge” and “Spearmint Grasshopper”, calculated to appeal to our human sensibilities.
“These words I sp-p-eak, the words you are h-earring, are new t-truth!”
I knew his ‘truth’. He was a creation. Madman. Fake. Mirror. Monster.
And thus terrifying to behold. Nice to see you here again Scott.
DeleteVery nice, Frankenstein isn't necessarily a body and artificial intelligence just might be an oxymoron.
Deleteimages, it's down to images and these are vivid.
DeleteThis was extremely clever and reminded somewhat of Ray Bradbury's writings. This creation would find much support in today's world, I think. Those last four words are so well thought out as to be inspirational.
DeleteLove those tales of intelligent machines growing out of hand. We will keep doing things like that to ourselves until the time we absolutely cannot recover our space.
Delete“Spearmint, Spearmint,” she shouted, “Come ‘ere you stupid thing.”
ReplyDeleteThe sun glinted on the duck pond and it was warm but there were few people in the park this weekday afternoon. A young man, slim, shaved head, walked towards her:
“Lost your dog?”
“Not really, he’s getting on a bit, ‘ard of ‘earring.”
“There was something moving in those bushes yonder, he could be in there.”
“Thanks,” she said and walked on. When she reached the bushes she called again and then peered into the foliage. What she saw filled her with horror. She screamed.
Welcome John and a delicious helping of horror you've provided.
DeleteHi John, good to have you here. More of your lovely horror, please!
DeleteWelcome John - straightforward nastiness this, with questions abounding.
DeleteDo I want to know what was found in the foliage? I think probably not...particularly if it involves the tail-wagging Spearmint and his possible demise. Have a feeling that young, slim, shaved-head personage may have a hand in all this. Seems you are new here. Nice debut and a huge welcome given this sampling of your talent.
DeleteBaby Love
ReplyDeleteSpearmint green. Delightful colour for a nursery. Soothing and suitable for either gender. Boy or girl. Didn't matter. She wasn't fussy.
Her walk by the playground in the park brought disapproval. Mothers leaving their youngest alone in perambulators while chasing after rambunctious toddlers. Totally irresponsible. She vowed never to be so neglectful.
Pink blanket and minuscule gold stud earrings. Hallmark of a female child. But be it boy or girl, didn't matter.
She wasn't fussy.
Delightful and soothing fast-flipped to dreadful horror. Nicely constructed.
DeleteAre you sure you're not related to Pennywise? You have a chiling nonchalant way with your horror. Not to mention its(your) quality. Oh, I have mentioned it, all four times.🌹
ReplyDeletePennywise lived in the drains... there's many a horror being wandering the parks, got to look out for them...
DeleteScent
ReplyDeleteHands on her thighs, Emily took a deep, ragged breath, drawing in the familiar aroma of peppermint and spearmint. Another scent crept in, strange and fetid. A smell that didn’t belong.
Frowning, Emily opened her eyes. She looked towards the tall, rough rock wall that separated her garden from the wilds of Graemforth Park. Gifted to the city long ago, it’d been sealed three years back after a series of unexplained wolf attacks. Unexplained, as there were no wolves in the city.
An itch began on one earlobe, and she tugged at her silver earring in annoyance.
Something howled.
Running out of time, so I will leave this here. :) I'll try to get some comments in tonight on all of your stories (so many great ideas!), but I might have to finish up tomorrow after the deadline.
Deletecreepy and suspenseful, good one!
DeleteAnd you've left us suspended, not knowing which bit to protect first.
DeleteLoved this. As always, Zaiure, an exceptional offering. I'm left wondering if Emily is prey or predator. I love a mystery, especially a good one!
DeleteLovely and just dripping with anticipation, like slow catsup from the bottle. Prompt use was splendid.
DeleteThe Mad Italian 17.
ReplyDeleteWhen the Americans descended on the United Kingdom during the last war, they brought the dreaded spearmint gum with them. You seem to have acquired a taste for endlessly moving your jaws to talk, if not to chew, rather than parking them in a quiet place and listening instead. If you are truly quiet, you would hear if anyone dropped as much as an earring on plush carpet. My message is: everyone talks too much, no one listens too much and the government of the United Kingdom remains in disarray because of it. They need silencing.
Or, as I was told 'you've 2 ears 1 mouth; use them in proportion'
DeleteAnd more than a soupçon of truth is to be found in the observations of the "Mad Italian" this week. Reminded me very much of that much-used saying of the time: "overpaid, oversexed and over here." I always wait with anticipation each week to learn of the wisdom bestowed by the eminent Leonardo.
DeleteSuch wisdom and not just the United Kingdom. A very well timed statement.
DeleteJust a walk in the park
ReplyDeleteThe earring lay on the grass, gold and zircon, red where it had been sliced from an ear.
The park was silent, unusual, where were the children with their spearmint sweets and high pitched voices? Where were the dogs to sniff out the rest of the ear – ah, there it is. Oh, there’s a part of the face attached to this bit, now should I… no, I want to find … or do I … oh look, the head… how far into the park am I now and it’s still silent and I need to find the rest of it…
I've never been fond of parks, and after this week's offerings - of which this is as spine-tingling as any - it'll be long while until I venture into another one.
DeleteTalk about a nightmare of a walk. Love the somewhat disjointed flavour of this piece. And those ellipses which end the tale... don't want to ponder too much on that.
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #89
ReplyDeletePlaying Pirates
I’m in Snow Park, not one of my usual haunts, but that’s exactly the point. Mother brought me when I was twelve. It’s still lovely. An old mansion sits at the north end, the park was once their front garden. Turns out unheated stone is vulnerable to blizzards. You can just make out the family sigil on the clock faces, a sprig of spearmint. I lost an earring in the rose garden last time. Even the ghosts couldn’t find it.
Tales of Rosebud are always such refreshing additions to this forum. A totally different brand of story every time. This comes with visions of an ice palace...perhaps even Disney-like. Loved the observations that "even the ghosts" couldn't find the earring.
DeleteYour opening sentences never fail to be instantly grabbing, and the final one changes and puts the base to everything that preceded it.
DeleteLadies' Night
ReplyDeleteLooked in the mirror, not liking what stared back. Tried a smile, no improvement. Different earrings?
Settled onto the park bench with what grace I could muster. Fished a spearmint from my handbag, next to my .38; a .22 in my stocking. No good scaring off the Moonlight Stalker with halitosis.
Seven hours later, no Stalker. Just lonely guys looking for anyone, even a goon like me in a dress. Funny though, none of them realized it. And I started feeling pretty good after a while. Maybe next Friday I'll put on the getup before dinner, see how that goes...
You can always bring an unbidden chuckle with your stories, Bill. This was no exception. For some reason, I picture one of the Pythons in drag here...John Cleese probably or maybe Graham Chapman. In any event, this was an amazingly novel take on the prompt words. And thank you for the chuckle.
DeleteAnother brilliant opening line, mind-teasing and entertaining middle and involuntary, twisting laugh at the end. Thank you Bill.
Delete