The weekly choosing of a ‘winner’ – one story ‘better’ than
the rest – is becoming near impossible. Not that I’m complaining, but you
should all know that so often it is little more than a particularly appealing
phrase, a choice of words or, even, a title that swings the balance after I’ve
spent more time than I can afford trying to choose.
This week was especially hard. Eventually, on the
strength of “weighing the ripened silence” I picked Jerry’s ‘Someday’; having also found
the whole of the tale lingered in my mind. Huge thanks to the rest of you.
Words for next
week: bedlam proxy taunt
Entries by
midnight Thursday 8th February winners and words
posted Friday 9th
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.
Excellent choice, Sandra, and many congratulations to Jerry. This truly had "winner" written all over it. Like I said, I really would like to know how this story continues. I think there's much potential there.
ReplyDeletetrying again... Blogger is playing silly games, I am currently 'unknown' which is as good as anything. See if I can get this to register this time, third go...
ReplyDeleteCongrats Jerry, brilliant writing. Thanks, Sandra, for putting yourself through the weekly ordeal of choosing!
Blogger insisted I create a Blogger profile, like I never had one before... sign of the times, needing to be 'recognised' several times before the powers that be accept you! So, no photo, it's disappeared but it matters not, tis me and the Mad Italian anyway every week.
DeleteChange of focus [267]
ReplyDeleteReturned to his room, her self-protecting taunts fast-fading John Pettinger showered, dressed, breakfasted before returning to the conference hall to endure a morning’s presentations. Thereafter he escaped, without enduring sight nor sound of her.
Three hours peaceful drive, mobile off, ears refreshed and better satisfied by Vivaldi, he returned to the station whereupon he was manhandled into an interview room. Objecting brought further bodies. Bedlam ensued. A cell. Before they shut the door, Ben Brickwood explained. ‘Found dead in her bed. You known to’ve been there, she known to merit –’
Pettinger grunted. ‘If it’s murder it was by proxy.’
oh nice one, loads of action and prompts that disappeared in the writing. Great!
DeletePettinger may be in water that's more than a little hot than he can handle this time around. Magnificent move forward in the story.
DeleteThat last line is a great play on a movie and a well written story.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 131 - On Board
ReplyDelete"You've surely heard of bedlam, dear boy?" asked the Station Master. He frowned at the pair now squabbling over plastic counters and tapped his foot. "Undisciplined children cause bedlam." Silence was instantaneous.
Back arched and tail curled, Marmalade wove figure eights around Clive Bailey's pinstripes. Wisps of orange fur lingered.
"Certain felines also indulge in chaos at times," said the Station Master. A barely perceptible twitch of the whiskers was Marmalade's only response to the taunt.
"Do select a colour and join the game, old chap," insisted the Station Master. "You really need to stop living life by proxy."
--------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
Enjoyed the figure of eights and Clive's pinstripes.
Deleteme too, having just had to wait while a brown and cream cat decided to stop investigating my keyboard, the copy of This England and a letter and let me get back to the serious work of the night!
DeleteLovely instalment.
Marmalade's figure eight' are probably better than any at the winter Olympics. A very good story, Patricia.
DeletePause for thought [Threshold 196]
ReplyDeleteBedlam, corruption of Bethlehem. Corrupt as was this house during Raven’s childhood; his mother turned mad by his blackness, her father dying in attempting to restrain her. Thus Raven’s grandmother visited widowed bitterness on Raven, taunting and physically maiming. She the cause of his being called Ravenscar: the cicatrised ‘RIP Beloved’ she’d scored into his belly.
Only now did it occurred to me she’d intended training me to hatred. To continue by proxy her never-ending torture. I’d like to think even had she not been bowled over by a wolfhound I’d resist.
Instead of anger I aided Raven to rise.
196 instalments and still this serial entertains with twists and insights.
DeleteThis was delicately lovely and provided yet more insight into the character of the protagonist. I too tend to believe she would not have been likely to continue the grandmother's never-ending torture of Ravenscar. Just doesn't seem part of her nature to do so.
DeleteI enjoyed your description of Raven memories, well done.
DeleteBy Any Other Name
ReplyDeletePolling stations are ancient history. Only us oldsters remember them. The number of people waiting to cast votes sometimes led to pandemonium -- opposing factions hurling taunts, insults, insinuations -- but by and large, it was well-organized bedlam. Enter a curtained cubicle. Make your anonymous selection. Wait for results and then celebrate. Or not, dependent upon affiliation.
Nowadays, it's all electronic. Authority designated to another on your behalf. "Via Proxy," they call it.
We still live in a democracy. Still have freedom to choose. So we're told, anyway, even though the nominees are simply different aliases for the same candidate.
shudder, shudder... this could happen, or maybe it already is happening in some places around the world. Well told.
DeleteSometimes your imaginings of a future world come too close to possibility for comfort.
DeleteTechnology doesn't always lead to progress, or so I think. These days I'm nervous as hell while voting...always dead sure I'll mistakenly vote for the wrong candidate. Your piece, Patricia, had me thinking about that.
Deletevery interesting thoughts expressed here, worrying ones too. Sometimes we need this kind of wakeup call to think about.
DeleteA forlorn and unfortunately accurate description. Doesn't change the fact it's a well done story.
DeleteBeautiful Bedlam J.E. Deegan
ReplyDeleteFaces twisted with rage and loathing. Voices ringing with scorn and contempt. Faces and voices of those I have maimed and murdered. They appeared every night to taunt me. Blindfolds and ear plugs didn’t deter them. Nor did the proxy I invoked for them to unleash their venom upon.
I had to do something else to kill the sights and sounds of them.
I poked out my eyes and punctured my eardrums.
Men in white smocks strapped me in a straight jacket and locked me in an empty room. But I don’t mind.
Ah…the beautiful bedlam of darkness and silence.
Nice with a poetic touch. Love the language used here.
DeleteBeing evil can't possibly be easy. This illustrates that beautifully. Very well done and entertaining.
DeleteDrastic solution to dreadful pangs of conscience.
Deletedarkness of the soul expressed in a few words.
DeleteThis writing and composition was truly superb. Magnificent use of the prompt words, albeit resulting in a horrific scenario. I agree with RJ...there is something poetic about this piece.
DeleteEerily enticing and slightly Lovecraftian, also very enjoyable.
DeleteAlone….
ReplyDeleteJerry Gaither
Yesterday the world was bedlam.
Today, silence and darkness taunted her.
Mischa contemplated the landscape, barren, empty. Where did the people go? She brushed back her mousy, brown hair and pushed her broken glasses up. Though the city once teemed with noise and commotion, now it felt cavernous. Abandoned cars blocked roads.
But no humans.
Like people had gone extinct overnight.
Was she the only one left?
Was she the proxy of the human race, left to deal with what came next?
Funny, she thought, I used to wish nothing more than to be alone and now...
Very compelling. I can picture Mischa walking around in the opening scene of a movie. I'd pay full price to see it.
DeleteThat penultimate line - so very clever, and the whole of this exactly as John says.
DeleteThe two questions near the end...beautiful! I'd love to know the answers. Maybe later, eh, Jerry?
Deletegood fiction leaves us wanting more - you did it in style with this one.
DeleteAs with many pieces published here week after week, this would make an exceptional "Twilight Zone" episode. I believe you have the makings of a serialization here and like some of the other readers, I'd love to know more about Mischa's journey.
DeleteI'll second John, very compelling and be careful what you wish for.
DeleteHot Property
ReplyDelete"Looking to sell, huh?"
"Time to move on. Fresh start somewhere new."
"Greener pastures?"
"Be a nice change of scenery, that's for sure. Had it up to here with constant taunting and endless judgments."
"The locals won't be pleased. They might revolt. Prevent you from leaving."
"Which is why I intend to close the deal by proxy. They'll never know until it's too late."
"More than seven kinds of hell once they do find out, I bet. Riots. Mayhem. Ruckus. Brouhaha. You name it."
"Well aware. Well aware. But take it from Lucifer Morningstar, that place has always been bedlam!"
Pretty cool Patricia. The bedlam is likely there by design but I'd like to know who the potential buyer would be.
DeleteYou've caught these two different voices perfectly. A vivid scene.
DeleteI love the exclusive use of dialog, Patricia. We don't see enough of that. Nicely done!
Deletelike this a lot!
DeleteOh yeah what a great last line!
DeleteThe Dalliance
ReplyDeleteThe boys would taunt from afar with varied smirks decorating their clumsy faces. They called her Henry’s Whore when she wasn’t within earshot and Proxy Doxy when she was nearby, though she was no substitute for Mrs. Craft.
On a sweltering Tuesday afternoon they watched the docks as Mrs. Craft disembarked. She was two weeks early. Her skirts billowed as she walked, bosom quivering, lace umbrella in hand, a waxed smile in place. She waved off the stevedore who stood expectedly by her trunk. The boys followed discreetly, anticipating the forthcoming bedlam and the entertainment to follow.
Oh! "Proxy doxy! - wish I'd thought of that. Ans the 'waxed smile' gives rise to wonderful images.
DeleteI've said it before and I'll say it again, John. You create clear, beautiful, powerful images. Your choice of verbs was splendid!
Deletepowerful images here. Superb piece.
Delete"Proxy doxy" is indeed one hell of a little gem. It should be included in a dictionary...with the addition of Mrs. Craft's likeness as a visual aid. And talking of visuals... Well, I think J.E. said it all. Your submissions always make for such easy reading.
DeleteYes, a very worthy story, John.
DeleteIn the beginning ...
ReplyDeleteFor Eve, every day at St Ignatius Secondary was hell on earth. Classroom humiliation because her throat-tight whisper led teachers to believe she was ignorant; the agonies of the canteen where fear forced her to swallow lunches without chewing interspersed with thrice daily endurance of tauntings and punches, bullying and spitting in the bedlam of the playground.
Left school she found her years there had equipped her with talents both highly lucrative – tight throat and speedy swallowing – and useful for revenge. She had a list and every male she recognised was passed to a proxy known to have the pox.
oh ice cold revenge, the best kind!
DeleteI recall the playground days - they could be daunting. It seems that's where most of the bullying took place with the younger ages. Good story of revenge. Love your stand-alones.
DeleteThat "tight throat and speedy swallowing" almost passed me by until I went back and reread. Nice touch!! This was one exceptional stand-alone, even by your high standards, Sandra.
DeleteHow this brought me back to elementary school. Though not quite with the same results. Enjoyed the imagery very much.
DeleteThe Mad Italian 41.
ReplyDeleteAh, what words this week! Bedlam, your House of Commons, proxy, their reason for non attendance and entrusting someone else with their vote, taunt is the game played during Question Time and other occasions when voices ring out round the chamber and destroy the credibility of those who were voted by you to be there. This is something I wish you to remember, those both here and in the United States (and if you can find a less united state, do tell me) those who pontificate on matters of supreme importance were voted in by you. Caveat emptor.
What a clever beginning with the prompt words. Very effective.
DeleteWhat a treat these observations are every week. Love the "less united state" reference. The Mad Italian has outdone himself this time around.
DeleteYes, we do have a mentality of being United only when we chose to be. I haven't missed as many of these as one might think.
Deletejust look, after all the kafuffle earlier, today I comment as me with pic and notifications should once again go to the right postbox. I have to assume blogger doesn't like the cold spell... Leonardo doesn't seem to mind, he came in with power and sent the chill only spirit can bring me flooding right down to my toes. I could have done without that...
ReplyDeleteBest thing with Blogger is to leave it a day or two to get over its sulks ...
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Six) - "Done Deal"
ReplyDeleteJasper Joad, proprietor/operator of the Ghost Train/Haunted Mansion, was a taciturn fellow. But he was fond of scrumpy and a jug or two guaranteed loosening of his tongue.
With a soupçon of taunting and encouragement by way of a bottomless tankard, he might be persuaded to reveal historical details related to his attractions. He divulged, for example, that the rides were originally called "Bedlam I" and "Bedlam II" when he purchased ownership rights.
Regarding identity of the seller, however, Jasper was more cagey. He stated the bargain was via proxy with an elderly gentleman whose name he failed to recall.
---------------------------------------------------------
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: Jasper Joad and his attractions have featured in previous episodes.
Oh, very clever! And a wholly satisfying episode,especially the scrumpy.
DeleteI enjoy learning new words,soupcon, so thanks for using it.
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #115
ReplyDeleteAn S.O.S.
Dear Rosebud,
Those people have got Elle in a jam again. They’ve taunted her into being their proxy to the local Meeting of the Guilds. You know how she hates those things and how those people anger the others. Is there some way we could get her away from them once and for all? At this rate the next few months will see us both in Bedlam. I’m sending this with Henry, you see I don’t even trust the post anymore.
-Teddy
P.S. Is there a way to light a highly localized forest fire?
Oh good, this promises a whole load more diversions and developments. And in time - thank you Rosie.
DeleteAnd yet another dimension to Rosebud's adventures is opened to us. I think it's the unique voice to this particular serialization that continues to keep the submissions fresh.
DeleteAlways well written and enjoyable.
DeleteA Night with a Page
ReplyDeleteThat pernicious thing,
mocking us with its emptiness.
Silence your confounding taunts,
we’ll fill that black hole
with hearts blood, as ink.
Bedlam incarnate,
a proxy for despair.
In bed with our spouses
but you’re twisting our dreams,
You act like a Selkie.
look like a Kitsune.
Always consuming,
never sated.
When drained and tired,
We smile at what’s been created,
and that always drives you away.
Nice Jeffery. Good to see you back, and with a powerful piece at that.
Delete