Friday, 17 November 2017

Darkest hour before dawn?

Words for next week: furnish pellet syringe

Entries by midnight Thursday 19th October, winners and words posted Friday 20th


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.

36 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  2. IN THE MEANTIME...

    Since Sandra will not be able to oversee happenings at The Prediction for another couple of weeks yet, she has asked me to "Stay Calm And Carry On" until her return. I'm sure we'll all be delighted to see her back steering this ship again but for now, you're still stuck with me.

    For its absolute "out of the box" inventiveness and somewhat tongue-in-cheek message, John's Still Life rose like cream for me to the top of a very varied and excellent group of tales last week. And, as as aside, this doesn't get any easier!!!

    At the risk of contradicting the deadlines posted above, I believe they should read:

    Entries by midnight Thursday, 23rd November, winners and new prompt words posted Friday, 24th November.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Patricia, for this honor. I hope Antonia doesn't mind that I briefly borrowed Leo...

      Delete
    2. Leo said, no problem... congratulations!

      Delete
  3. Echoed the Sound of Silence

    Nuala had insisted they furnish her with the quietest of weapons.
    The human guard had no time to react before she plunged the syringe into his neck. Poisoned he fell. Nuala entered the musty gloom of the chamber.
    The brood mother lay in her nest, deep in her post engorgement slumber, tentacles curled into coils beneath her bloated belly. Nuala held the barrel of the pellet gun to the mother’s hoary eye. The sweet spot where she was most vulnerable.
    Of necessity her death would be silent.
    Nuala pulled the trigger.
    The pellet hissed.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What imagery you created with this one. Engorged and bloated and hoary, really hits it home. I often feel bad for the guards in stories such as these; they take a beating but likely deserve their fate.

      Delete
    2. it is the imagery here which matters. I've been lecturing all week on SHOW DON'T TELL because the stories are dull as dishwater. This isn't, it leaps from the screen. It can be done!

      Delete
    3. Beautiful (and deadly) in its imagery. I feel that Nuala is something less than human, given the identification of the "human guard." Magnificent idea of a "brood mother," reminiscent of a Queen Bee or Queen Ant at the very centre of everything. Very nicely done.

      Delete
  4. Crack House

    “We furnish syringes to discourage the spread of disease, not to promote drug use.”

    “Then why fill them with heroin?”

    The proprietor blinked. “Likely a disgruntled volunteer.”

    Jose Luella Cruz pulled the hypodermic from his pocket and grabbed the man by the throat.

    “What if I injected this into your scrotum?”

    As the man wept, Cruz upturned a box of pelletized opioids before lighting crumpled newspapers with his Zippo. He walked into a room and returned with his nearly comatose daughter in his arms.

    Cruz ushered the man down the smoke filled hall. “You’ll burn in hell, but not today.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. savage stuff but so well done. Really liked this.

      Delete
    2. A very raw emotional piece so expertly put together. Absolutely adore that final comment.

      Delete
  5. The Feast

    Carl stumbles in a fog. Duct tape and an empty syringe are by his feet, covered in morning dew. His fellow revellers lie passed out amongst the empties. Greasy hands still clutch chunks of meat, burnt carcinogenic black but pink fuchsia on the inside. A spit, furnished with the remains of the feast, hangs over the last smouldering pellets. Little crispy feet are tied to one end, while at the other, small fingers have escaped being scorched.
    Carl lets the blood-stained carving knife slip from his grasp. He drops to his knees, head buried in his hands, and weeps.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Leaves me with the image that could be the final conclusion of a "Twilight Zone" or something very similar. I can almost see the camera panning out until the final vista is so small as to be undiscernible. I do so love pieces that invoke such vivid scenarios.

      Delete
  6. The morning after the ritual.... visceral and horrifying. I shudder to think about whose fingers are scorched. I doubt Carl will ever recover.

    (Did I use 'whose' correctly? It doesn't look right.)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Looks like the correct usage to me, John. The only other spelling would, I think, be "who's" and that's the "who is" contraction. Course, I could be wrong. Wouldn't be the first time that's for sure and almost certainly not the last!

      Delete
    2. this is so cold, so brutal, so vivid - really loved it. Good one, Dan!
      'Whose' is right there.

      Delete
  7. Much going on this week, so I'm not sure any submissions are in the pipeline. Rest assured, however, I will be commenting and posting a winner.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sorry Patricia, lot of stuff taking up mental energy at the moment, lacking time and inspiration :(

      Delete
  8. Urban Blight

    She deleted the syringe emoji from the message. A little too apparent, she thought. He was hooked on antihistamine pellets, perhaps ibuprofen, but nothing harder… she was pretty sure. Everyone had their skeletons.

    She convinced the lethargic landlord to open the door. The unfurnished room was dank, four walls and a filthy toilet, a partial kitchenette with dishes piled high in the sink. He’d told her he had a job and a swank apartment on the east side. Just east of skid row, it appeared. She reinserted the syringe emoji and hit send. Good riddance, but it still hurt like hell.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. back on the dark side of life and how dark it is too! This is clever.

      Delete
    2. I can only echo Antonia's observations of "dark" and "clever." I like the references that bring it into the current world and such an appropriate title as well.

      Delete
  9. I'll not be contributing anything this week, but will return next week with a vengeance. Sandra may possibly be judging this week's entries but if not, I'll take over one more time and will return a little later today with my comments.

    ReplyDelete
  10. The Mad Italian 32
    It seems to be time to furnish governments with a sense of responsibility to the people they ‘govern.’ It may be that they need an injection, a syringe full of truth serum, or a pellet of responsibility for all I see from your headlines is interparty squabbling and accusations flying in all directions. How much better would it be if they were, for once, to work together for the good of the nation! I know well, unfortunately, that throughout history man has sought to be better than the next, no matter the cost to the other person and their family.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. As wise as always, the "Mad Italian" always finds the correct phraseology to bring it all home. I think this is the best of his observations to date.

      Delete
    2. Yes, wise and relevant. I don't know a lot of the brexit dealings other than what I hear on NPR on occasion. Is it just England seeking to leave the EU, or is all of the UK involved.

      Delete
  11. it's been a chaotic week, so no stand alone, maybe next week if it settles. First, Firefox reinvented itself so I lost most of my bookmarks, second, I finished my book on My Life In Spirit/Your Life In Spirit which provoked my publisher into starting a new imprint - Zadkiel Publishing, for all spiritual books and we've been emailing nonstop on logo, genres, blurb for my book (now out, not the best blurb in the world but it will sell it, I think, as it came from the heart, on top of feeling utterly worn out and I don't quite know why. Got a sick cat (gingivitis and bad tooth - vet consultation tomorrow - here goes all my money...) on top of daughter freaking out from having her hair chopped off - I mean, you name it, it's been happening! Leo pushed in, though, he wouldn't go without his weekly instalment. Maybe next week will be calmer... I can but hope. Thanks to all of you for the good reads.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. At least you managed a continuation, Antonia. I wasn't even up to THAT this week. I have been sadly short on time and even shorter on inspiration. Fingers crossed that this is nothing more than a temporary condition.....

      Delete
  12. I will wait until tomorrow to see if Sandra is welcomed back into our fold before posting what I consider to be this week's winner. Frankly, 'tis a task I'd rather not undertake again given my druthers. It's all just far too difficult.

    ReplyDelete
  13. A New Subject

    Our compartments are fully furnished, quite comfortable, just look at that mattress. The chairs are warranted to improve posture, and there’s enough room for daily exercises.

    Sorry, no windows available. There are three weekly outdoor periods. Total of an hour. Yes, it’s the new rule, as of 2117.

    Ah, the dispenser. That’s just been updated, and we’re very proud. The new ration pellets are much more appealing, I think you’ll agree. No need for those nasty syringes any more, nightly medication is dispensed as a spray.

    I’ll leave you get settled. Testing begins early, get some rest. Good night!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This was almost dystopian...although nicely disguised. Can't quite figure out if this is a new-fangled assisted living facility or some type of experimental clinic. Either way, it works perfectly and the matter-of-fact telling is positively spine-tingling. Brilliant stuff!

      Delete
    2. Yes, I detected the dystopian flair as well. A really good read. I take the newcomer to be a freshly installed inmate in some weird testing prison or something.

      Delete
  14. The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #104
    Planning Ahead


    Natasha was recently furnished with new fire fighting equipment, mainly hoses, though the folks that sold them still call them fire syringes. We’re travelling through the fire tree hills again. This time we’ve got an itinerary so we’re planning ahead. We’ve also got barrels of ice pellets on hand in case of fire newts. We usually sail right through, but I want to make sure we get back to school in one piece.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Such imaginative and unique use of the prompt words. And Rosebud's world grows increasingly known to us, little by little....which is the best way!

      Delete
    2. Nice way to use syringe, other than a hypodermic needle. Very enjoyable and well done. Rosebud is really good at conveying the day to day doings.

      Delete
  15. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete