I ceased checking for duplication of prompt words a
while ago, which is why olive appeared for the third time last week. I would apologise
but for the fact that you all incorporated the word in an impressively inventive and
well-oiled manner.
And because I had longer to savour it, thanks to an
earlier-than-usual posting, I have no hesitation in declaring Rosie’s
‘My Grandmother’s People’ – episode #97 of 'The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate
Princess' this week's winner. The consistently high standard and unique voice makes this one of my (many) weekly treats.
Words
for next week: argue petechial spring
Entries
by midnight Thursday 12th October, words
posted Friday 13th
Congratulations Rosie!
ReplyDeleteWhat a week of entries!
Now off to ponder "petechial"
congratulations to Rosie and to everyone who managed to use olive so smoothly.
ReplyDeleteOne very god story, Rosie, congrats!
ReplyDeleteNice Rosie, well deserved.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteFrom the mouth of the dragon
The doctor examined the girl as her mother looked on, trembling. His colleague, Dr. Bracer would argue and say the patient had petechiae the size of cat heads, but that was an exaggeration, or it had been a moment ago. The largest lesion shuttered and bulged before his eyes, leaking black fluid down the screaming girl’s back. A clawed fist sprung from her skin and then another. By the time the horned head emerged, the doctor had just enough time to cross himself before the creature attacked. The antichrist, dripping blood and gore, burst from the examination room in search of believers.
Flip me John! What an entry! Powerful and visceral and scary!
DeleteAnd perfect.
A nice trail of bread crumbs, leading us to that nasty ending. Prompt use was very good.
DeleteGruesome indeed. And terrifying.
Deletewow! gore and all in a short piece, which I am always looking for and don't always get. Thanks, it puts my current edit into perspective (it's rubbish compared with this!)
DeleteMarvelous visuals. The image of the antichrist bursting from the room in search of believers was spine-chilling.
DeleteIn a rather unorthodox move, I wrote a sequel to From the mouth of the dragon. I didn’t use prompt words so I may get reprimanded.
ReplyDeleteIn a field outside of Macon, Georgia, the antichrist came upon a young boy sawing on a fiddle and playing it hot. In the distance, sirens sounded amongst the aftermath of the creature’s rampage. The antichrist raised a clawed arm but paused, listening to the music. A golden fiddle appeared before him and he took it up, an evil hiss burgeoning from the bow. The antichrist played, flawlessly, ominously. He then beckoned for the boy to play, who did so. The antichrist, knowing he’d been beat, laid his fiddle at the boy’s feet. As a glowing halo emerged from the boy, the antichrist burst into countless pieces.
Oh! I kind of wanted the story to go on a lot longer than that.
DeleteThis reminded me so much of "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" by Charlie Daniels. I will return later with my usual comments, but just had to remark on this immediately...!!!
DeleteMe too, Patricia - perfect soundtrack.
Deleteabsolutely, the devil going down to Georgia instantly!
DeleteThe end? Already? I was hoping this might go on. The Adventures of the Antichrist is something that deserves further examination. Perhaps the Beast could be put back together? It IS the antichrist after all!
DeleteLuck of the Gods
ReplyDeleteDevon placed his offering on the altar, for the Goddess of Spring, along with the others. Then were the offers of marriage, for the single girls, past their first Time of the Moon.
Calpurnia had four other offers. Chief Whatun was her uncle and guardian. She chose Taliz, the village’s chief scout. They went before the altar; Taliz placed the white lily in Calpurnia’s hair. All saw the petechial spots of rejection stain the lily-no one argued with the goddess!
Her offers of marriage were withdrawn…except for Devon’s, the newly appointed village alchemist.
The goddess helps those who help themselves.
This is an indication of what you can do when you put your mind to it - smoothly-written and much more than a string of disparate sentences.
DeleteYes, there is a flow to this, an idea posited, teased out and twisted, making a nice story.
DeleteThe longer they stayed at that alter, the weirder it got. I'm not sure I would have stayed up there either. Good one.
Deletean improvement for sure!
DeleteA very much improved....not to mention enjoyable...piece. Well written with a lovely flow. Now you're on the right road!
DeleteEllis 010
ReplyDeleteI sat on the toilet seat, noticing the dust, as she would. Jessica asked me to remove my t-shirt. I wanted to argue, but sense kicked in. She examined me, running her fingers up my arms, circling my throat, looking into my mouth.
“Hmm, redness there.” She perched on the edge of the bath, asked “Is there anything you want to tell me that you wouldn’t want to say in front of Jasper?”
“No!” I sprang up.
“Petechiae can indicate a sexually transmitted disease.”
I snorted. “It’s been a while.”
“It could be just a sore throat,” she allowed.
Poor man, poor Jasper. I liked how your dialog/description brings us into the scene, as an experience.
DeleteSo easy to picture this - vivid, lively writing.
DeleteThe dreaded words: Is there anything you want to tell me? There usually is, but...
Deletea well pictured scenario, this one. Thanks for a good read.
DeleteThis was so matter-of-fact. So current. It could be taken from an episode of a television show now on the air. However, I wonder if Ellis is protesting Jessica's questioning a little too much.
DeleteCongratulations, Rosie. Lovely little story and well worthy of the top spot last week.
ReplyDeleteTRASH Rash
ReplyDelete“This had better not be bubonic bloody plague,” said Jackson, examining the worrying array of angry purple spots that had broken out on her forearms.
The Professor was showing signs of the same affliction on his neck. He shook his head.
“Petechial rash. Side effect of the Time Reversal Accelerator Sub-hydronic Hyperdrive.”
Jackson wasn’t reassured.
“Bursting capillaries wasn’t in the small print.”
“Let’s not argue,” said Professor. “It’s not everyone who gets to witness the Primordial Spring.”
Deep in the swamp something let out a terrible roar.
Jackson felt another vein go pop.
Not surprised at Jackson's disaffection, given the acronym. Superbly effective dialogue.
DeleteA quirky continuation. I'm hoping Jackson was able to change out of the platform boots before visiting the primordial swamp too!
DeleteMy skin itches now. Very visual and entertaining.
Deleteit's not easy to write dialogue led pieces, you did well with this one.
DeleteMagnificent scenario and so unique. Love the idea of a "Primordial Spring." At first, I was thinking of the season but on reflection, maybe it is a body of water. In any event, a "Time Reversal Accelerator Sub-hydronic Hyperdrive" is worthy of further adventures which I, for one, would love to read about.
DeleteTime Reversal Accelerator..was a great line. This had me thinking of the movie Timeline by Crichton. You made this very believable.
ReplyDeleteThe Proof is in the Pudding
ReplyDelete“Morton, why do you love me,” Chelicera asked.
“Because you accept me, for who I am.”
“Wouldn’t a prostitute do the same?”
“Their attentions are in dollars. You’ve made every day like a beautiful spring day.”
“But the arguments that we’ve had.”
“My love, those happen, yet we listen, talk, and understand each other. Then we move on, our bond stronger for it.”
Morton felt a sharp sting in his neck, where Chelicera’s proboscis was attached.
I’m so sorry love, but we mated and you weren't fast enough. You taste so good and those petechial splotches are just exquisite.
It seems they mated for life, a short life, but life nonetheless.
Deletea shock last line which reveals all, good one.
DeleteNice twisted ending...in more ways than one. Good title too. Double-header this week methinks, Jeffrey.
DeleteThank you all! I'll try to continue posting earlier, though I'll be in back to back sets of tech rehearsals soon.
ReplyDeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #98
Forethought
Back in Grandma Silbhe’s day fruit was difficult to store. Shipboard refrigeration didn’t exist outside of the Land of Ice yet. As Guardian of Pirates she had to store and distribute the fleet’s fruit. Every spring the crew wandered back covered in petechiae. Then arguments always happened about forgetting to drink lime juice in winter. Grandma Silbhe kept everyone healthy until the harbors froze, then the crew were to take their citrus fruit home and eat it, not sell it to buy booze. Grandma Silbhe told me lots of stories, in case I become Guardian of Pirates one day.
Good for Grandma Silbhe - hope to hear more of her wisdoms in future.
DeleteI'm thinking many a pirate contracted scurvy in winter when they weren't supposed to trade the fruit for booze. Neat little story here Rosie.
Deletedefinitely a neat little story, I agree with John. Nicely told.
DeleteAnother little jaunt into Rosebud's world and one as fascinating as always. Like Sandra, I'm eager to know more of this wise Grandma Sibhe. Lovely little nod to the factual history of scurvy too.
DeleteThank you for posting earlier, your stories are always enjoyable
ReplyDeleteand this is no exception. Loved how you used the history of the British 'Limey' as it's premise. A soft story, nice use of prompts.
Change of focus [256]
ReplyDeleteBail was allowed.
Thanks to Olive Morgan’s cleavage, permitting hope to spring in ex-headmaster Mitchell’s eternally pigeoned-chest, the boy-band-faced Morgan was released into the fractious bosom of his family.
His father lashed him verbally, clenched fists preventing him delivering the more effective punishment.
His mother raised (again) his allowance, so he wouldn’t need to deal, not understanding it propelled by defiance of his father.
One of Jason Agnew’s minions stopped him on his way from school. Too inexperienced to know enough was enough the damage inflicted was petechiae-mapped.
Concealed from his mother beneath a tactful sheet and eyelids closed forever
A sorry end, and your writing makes me feel sorrowful, even for the detestable Morgan parents.
DeleteNicely written with good use of the prompts. I'm thinking that Olive will be a little upset.
DeleteDealing rarely pays in the long run.
DeleteBoy-band faced, fractious bosom, eternally pigeoned, propelled by defiance, really good word usage, one of your specialties.
Is the boy's first name Morgan or are you referring to him by his last name?
Surname, John - sorry - I had been differentiating Morgan senior & son but forgot it here.
DeleteAnd thank you - I've found Prediction has increased my use of hyphenated words considerably.
losing characters, making way for new ones? I don't think you're ready to end this yet.
DeleteThat last line reminded me of Don Corleone's plea of "Look what they've done to my boy." I do hope that the end of this magnificent serialization is nowhere near its conclusion. And how I envy the putting together of a "boy-band-face." It simply says it all.
DeleteNo peace for the wicked? [Threshold 185]
ReplyDeleteRaven was face down on his bed. A never-before-seen goblin of a man on the far side, watching him.
The thing about skin the colour of Raven’s was that bruises didn’t show. Weals did. In a stunned silence during which no explanation sprung to mind, I counted ten. Six inches or more, purple-frilled edges. Stiffly he turned his head to look at me, whites of his eyes tormented with petechiae. ‘He’s not to blame.’
Unsmiling, goblin man introduced himself. ‘Lant.’ (I later learnt it translated as piss-diluted beer.)
‘An argument?’
Lant sniggered. ‘Only with himself. One he didn't win.’
Your use of descriptions to set the scene was excellent. Petechia eyes is ironically beautiful.
DeleteMan, does anything good ever happen to these people. Lant sounds delightful though, in an 'I want to punch his face in' kind of way. Great introduction of the goblin faced guy.
Deleteif anything good happened we;d all be in shock... another nasty instalment, if you see what I mean.
DeleteThese episodes are always intriguing but I found this one even more so. Now I am totally curious as to Raven's injuries and the introduction of "Lant" (and what a name/meaning that is!) has left me asking: Who? What? When?
DeletePatricia: me too!
DeleteThe First Moon Shot
ReplyDeleteThe lunarnauts were checking out the small ridge, discussing last nights, ullamaliztli game.
“You’re crazy Eztli, the Hummingbirds are still the best, that was just a lucky shot.”
“Nelli, why do you argue with me? You don’t know anything about ullamaliztli.”
“I know that Tenoch is the best looking guy I’ve ever seen.”
“It must be spring when a young woman’s thought’s turn to desire.”
“Eztli, did you see a glint over there?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
When they arrived, they saw a human female frozen solid, covered with petechial spots.
“What language is that tag?”
“English, it says ALICE.”
I'm trying to cope with a massive editing job which is SF, which relies on those odd names and things... I would wish they were easier to understand. I wish I could edit them all out...
Deletethis is intriguing, are you taking it further?
I sometimes find that an overabundance of "curious" names tends to detract from the substance of the story...although I fully understand the desire for their uniqueness in a scenario-setting way. This definitely feels like the beginning of something that will go further. And I look forward to the continuation.
DeleteMy thanks to all for your comments on my stories this week. They were as nice to read as my stories were to create. I do owe an apology for this story. I got too into writing what was to me a funny story. The body ALICE on the moon, is Alice Cramden from the Honeymooners and a reference to what Ralph(Jackie Gleason) would say. I will look at a revised stoy of this as the question continuing this story, did create several enjoyable lines.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteGostegodd 013
ReplyDeleteOlewydden became agitated, twitching as he processed Mark’s reply.
“But the Guardian is not in Petrichor!” he protested, a petechial rash staining his throat.
“Don’t argue, Olewydden. Bring him to me.”
“I, I don’t have that power,” he darted looks to the rear of the drinkshop.
Mark caught the creature’s forelimb and trapped it on the table top.
“You would not have been sent if he wasn’t able to watch me through you. Guardian, Twelve disembarked with me, do you not think that number is significant? Time is shorter than expected.”
Released, Olewydden sprang up, fled to a dark corner.
the menace builds, the secrets peek out and disappear again and the prompts disappear in the instalment. Thank you for a good read!
DeleteOooohhh....reference to a significant number. Twelve certainly comes with many mystic connotations. I must admit, I didn't even notice if the prompt words were present or not, so subtle was their use.
DeleteWhen time doesn't flow as expected, why isn't a reason given? Well, there is next week. A most enjoyable story and well done at keeping our interest.
DeleteFor reasons I'm not sure about, I especially enjoyed "trapped it on the table top" - alliteration, maybe.
DeleteKursaal (Episode Ninety One) - "Carpe Noctem"
ReplyDeleteArchon slithered from his basket like an uncoiling watch spring and followed Manasa outside. It was dark, some might argue too dark to see anything, but both snake and snake-charmer were familiar with the path to their destination.
Pale starlight illuminated the rectangle of ground, livid with lichen strangulated by bindweed until its appearance was that of purple petechiae found on the skin of one asphyxiated. Confident nothing had been disturbed, Manasa returned home.
Archon's forked tongue licked the air. Manasa nodded, aware of someone trailing her movements. Observing. Witnessing.
She also believed she knew who it was.
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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/kursaal.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
---------------------------------------------------------
and so the saga continues... with mysteries abounding and me so deep in the most utterly boring edit ever, incapable of finding anything, which is why I am grateful there is so much good stuff to read from you!
DeleteI just love your descriptions and no dialog. Using narrative description is as hard as dialog. Well done.
Delete"purple petechiae found on the skin of one asphyxiated" - wonderful!
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 117 - Trainwrecks
ReplyDeleteThe two sisters continued to plan a Wonderland theme party but things weren't going well. Their "Dormouse" kept springing out of the tea urn like a jack-in-the-box, the "Cheshire Cat" was uncooperative and "Alice" failed to correctly follow directions.
Additionally, the sister in white chiffon had developed a nasty purple-spotted skin condition.
"The Station Master said it's petechial," she confided.
"Meaning?" asked the one in red georgette.
"I don't know. Regardless, I wasn't about to argue!"
"Hope it's not contagious. Let Matron take a look."
"You know she hasn't been seen since that soldier was removed from the garden!"
--------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
oh oh oh, where did Matron go and with whom and why... you set up such mysteries, Patricia!
DeleteI'm wondering who they had placed in their Looking Glass roles? Yes, a well set up ending.
DeleteAn air of fluttery innocence here.
DeleteHorea
ReplyDeleteThey argued. Sisters do. But that didn't make enforced separation easier. The final meeting was poignant, each aware that the presence of a dear one would be forever beyond reach.
The circle of hands remained unbroken as transformations took place and the architect worked her wizardry. The ground beneath began to crack and crumble, creating ravines where flowed sacrificial blood from the soles of the sisters' feet. Patterns reminiscent of weeping petechiae. It was a necessary surrender.
They were granted a brief but loving farewell embrace before departure. Summer with Winter and Spring with Autumn.
They would never meet again.
the last line is sad but before that, there is a deep sense of sadness pervading this little tale. Beautifully done.
DeleteOh this is lovely, I really enjoyyed the tone/voice of the piece, and the mental twist from thinking of two sisters separating, to understanding the circle of sisters who miss one of the circle desperately.
DeleteAn intriguing, a well, if sadly described story. The four sisters, the four seasons. An apocalyptic architect perhaps.
DeleteThis has a Classical, epic feel, as if it ought to be a mosaic on the wall of a Grecian villa.
DeleteThe mad Italian 26.
ReplyDeleteIf you could wish anything on the dismal race which calls itself politicians, would it not be the classic petechial rash which will disfigure their faces and cause them embarrassment when they argue for the face distorts when in anger. You see, even now hope springs eternal – despite my many years in the spirit realm and my oft despair at the fact that few if any governments do what they say they will and actually benefit their people. The strongest give way in the end to the temptation of their own wellbeing, the weak just give way.
So much to ponder upon here. Love the idea of politicians developing a rash of disfigurement. Such a fitting fate for so many. Wonderful to see the "hope springs eternal" proverb. Wish I'd thought of using it...but then, it wouildn't have been anywhere near as appropriate.
DeleteInteresting that he calls politicians a race. Another episode with much to ponder, as in what is our blame to the government. Than the Mad Italian for me and a very nice;y done episode.
DeleteHe's a bit of a misery-guts at times, isn't he! Where's his Italian insouciance?
Deleteif you spend your time studying politics and politicians, you get to be a misery gut. I can't remember seeing any of the political pundits actually smiling!!
Delete"I Could Have Danced All Night"
ReplyDeleteNeverland's Springtime Cotillion: a much-anticipated event. Wendy purchased a Chantilly lace gown for the occasion and welcomed the suggestion that glowing bronze skin would enhance the effect.
She played Fifth Harmony on her iPod and dozed while the tanning bed worked its magic. When the session ended, however, she was horrified to see splotches of petechiae marring her flesh. No argument that she couldn't attend resembling a speckled lobster.
Tinkerbell voiced commiserations, offering to accompany Peter in Wendy's stead and do her utmost to ensure a lovely time.
Visiting the spa, Tink reset the solarium's heat controls before getting ready.
Twisted fairy tales are some of my favourite reading :) A clever tale, and cverly hidden prompts too
DeleteThanks, now the Big Bopper is singing his song in my mind, Chantilly lace and a pretty face...
DeleteIs Tin an example of a woman scorned? I liked this version of an old classic, you melded the prompts very well.
Prompts? What prompts? I had to really search ... sharp tale, as ever.
Deletevery sharp, with a clever conclusion.
DeleteThis is great, Patricia. I love it. I wouldn't be surprised to see Tink as the saboteur in any future retelling of this story.
DeleteA domestic incident
ReplyDeleteHe always said he preferred action to words. I didn’t argue. Had I been able to be patient he could’ve been buried in Spring with his favourite flowers. But criticising my icing of the Christmas cake ...
... it was a toss-up whether the bloodspots most resembled holly berries or petechiae.
Perfection in far less than 100 words. Short and sharp as the leaves of the referenced holly berries. And so should all perish who dare to criticize the icing of ANY cake...!!!
DeleteI echo Patricia's eloquent words in that this was perfection. The premature burial, while not really very nice, seemed to almost be deserved.
Deletefalling about laughing, love it!
ReplyDelete