At the risk of repeating myself, it has been another
week of hard choices, of reading and re-reading, seeking a minuscule reason to
move a post down from first place. Needless to say, it didn’t happen. Five went
to four to three and the final two were agonising to tell apart. In the end, I
chose John for his ‘Daughters of
Anguish’ but have to confess David was
so close behind as to be treading on their heels.
Words for next
week: affair orifice pedestal
Entries by
midnight Thursday 8th March winners* and words posted Friday 9th
*I shall be at a writing retreat way from
Thursday to Sunday next week. Words will definitely be scheduled, and if I don’t
find time before, winners by Monday.
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.
I'm really honored to be in the top two this week. I didn't get a chance to comment as I would have liked but I'll do better next week. Now, to try to stay clean with the prompt words. Orifice has so many tempting tangents available.
ReplyDeleteMany congratulations to David and John. Easy to understand how that final decision must have been extremely difficult. I'm hoping I can avoid the pitfall of submitting something related to my dear little Arthubnot this week, given the prompt words which are soooooo suitable and seem to be custom-made. Nevertheless, I shall do my best to resist temptation...but have my reservations.
ReplyDeleteCongrats to John and David, consistently high standards and very different storylines!
DeleteBrotherly Love
ReplyDeleteThe brothers stared at one another. One tended bar, the other cradled a Jim Beam on the rocks.
“I saw Rebecca on television last night,” Frank said, wiping the mahogany bar. “She looked good.”
“She’s about to fall off her fucking pedestal.”
“C’mon, Joe, it’s not every day someone wins an Oscar.”
“You just gotta figure out which orifice you’re going to cram it into.” He slid his glass to Frank.
“I wouldn’t talk that way, Joe.” He filled the glass. “Someone might hear you.”
“Her affairs are in order.”
Franks hands trembled. “Tonight then?”
Joe smiled and nodded.
This both avoided temptation and set the bar high for the rest of us. Wonderfully smooth and complete.
DeleteGraphic without being overly so. Certainly subverted my thoughts of where it was going. Very good.
DeleteSo direct and easy to read. I got smacked in the face with the ending. Nice work, John!
Deleteintriguing, hinting rather than revealing, clever one.
DeleteNight Shift
ReplyDelete"He was bleeding from every orifice. It was a mess!" Shaun shuddered. He had seen many horrible things during his graveyard shifts in the ER but this was the worst.
After the rain began falling in the city, people started turned up dead. Some turned inside out. There were things in the unnatural rain.
Dr. Bradley (whom Shaun had put on a pedestal) had slipped outside for a smoke. When Shaun found what was left...
"What now?" He asked the rookie cop.
"We wait for this whole awful affair to..." A scream punctuated the night out in the rain.
This is interesting that the rain seems to cause someone or something to go crazy. Very intriguing.
DeleteThoroughly unpleasant. Well done.
DeleteThis would make a great Twilight Zone episode. Well done, RJ!
Deleteone of those 'enter at your peril' stories, could go anywhere, but wherever it goes it will be gory!
DeleteChange of focus [271]
ReplyDelete‘One night of sex hardly constitutes an affair –‘
‘Nevertheless, highly unprofessional of you, DI Pettinger, at a conference of this calibre. No doubt forensics will confirm –‘
‘Of course it will! DNA, fingerprints, in several orifices. Hers on mine. I’ve admitted that. And no evidence of coercion –‘
‘Bruising –‘
‘Aye, and I’ve scratches down my back! Since when was sex a crime? What’s more urgent is you find her killer instead of wallowing in bollocking hypocrisy. How did she die? When, precisely?’
‘– Between nine and midday –‘
‘I was stood behind a pedestal by then. On CCTV.’
I like the idea if a piece told solely through dialogue. I have a short story I'm working on using this same tactic. It's challenging but I like it good job!
DeleteThe dangers of the one night stand...
DeleteI'd hate to be in that hot seat.
this is yet another example of wanting more than 100 words!!
DeleteJustification [Threshold 200]
ReplyDeleteI had killed before. For Raven’s sake, one of a trio of warriors’ widows, intent on poisonous revenge. For mine, ice-blue-eyed Hoarthorn, who’d earmarked me as his next affair. He, new-castrated and tumbled from the pedestal of Puppetmaster, might have been glad to have died.
I’d made a stab at Lant, for Raven’s sake, yet for all his repulsive habits – fingers forever excavating every orifice, their contents examined then flicked – Raven had twice said he was not to blame; admitted his wounds were self-inflicted.
Sharply, ‘Is this a test? Of my loyalty?’
He smiled. ‘It is. One you’ve just failed.’
Oh my, I lost my concentration after reading of the flicking of the orifice contents. What a visual. But I re-gathered and re-read and I'm glad I did. Very nice.
DeleteBeautifully visual! I could easily see each gruesome act! Nicely done!
Deleteit's the cold indifference of those doing the investigation that creates the menace in this one.
DeleteAmazon Prime
ReplyDeleteEyes full of wonder the one year-old, blonde curls a tumble of innocence, cherubic toes peeping from rabbit-pocketed blue linen dungarees, prodded and poked every orifice of the glistening object just arrived on the kitchen floor before him.
Still furious at your callous ending of our affair I’d missed the stainless steel pedestal bin and overshot.
He, poor mite, was not to know it was your heart.
Deliciously gruesome
DeleteHoly cow, did I read that right? Talk about a traumatic event. I guess a heart would have a lot of orifices to prod about in.
Deleteoh yes, brilliant!!
DeleteHusang and the Land Whale
ReplyDeleteHusang teetered on the pedestal, shovelling great squirming heaps of worms into the yawning orifice of the land whale.
He moaned in delight. The ground trembled, almost toppling the pedestal. He had trebled in size. His grey hide was speckled in green moss and black lichen.
Husang turned to her father, unsettled by the whole affair.
'If he gets any bigger he might try to eat me.'
'He won’t turn on his provider little one,' assured her father, fetching a fresh barrel of worms. ‘But when he is fully grown he will surely devour our enemies.'
Wow talk about capturing ones interest. Well done!
DeleteThis reflects a sterling imagination! Nice job, David!
DeleteSomehow the reassurance doubles the possibility of something going wrong.
DeleteGreat story, David. Loved it.
Deletevisually outstanding!
DeleteHow are you guys coming up with such gems so quickly? I am at a total dead end (not to mention dead loss) and contemplating -- for the first time since joining, other than when my little Colby pup passed away -- having nothing to offer this week.
ReplyDeleteI've heard this before, Patricia ... and don't believe you'll fail even though you think you might.
DeleteI know I've expressed this many times before, Sandra...but that pesky "orifice" has me well and truly stumped.
DeleteINVITATION
ReplyDeleteThe door would open automatically at 10 p.m, and the mumbled murmurings beyond it confirmed that the crowd assembled there was agitated and confused, just as I hoped they’d be. Friend and foe alike awaited, and each, for one reason or another, merited invitation to the impending affair. With only a minute to kill (I smiled at my turn of words), I again checked the pedestal to ensure it was the appropriate height. I stood upon it as the door opened and the crowd flooded in.
I grinned, slipped my head into the inviting orifice, and kicked the pedestal away.
Breathtakingly brilliant use of the prompts - well done!
DeleteThis was really good. Exceptional, in fact. I loved that parenthetical thought. I don't envy Sandra this week.
Deletethis is so good, Jim, it really is!
DeleteCongrats John! You wrote a brilliant piece, to be sure.
ReplyDeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 135 - The Cat's Whiskers
ReplyDeleteIf vibrissae will not fit into an orifice, neither will the owner. Every feline from tabby to tiger knows that! The cat flap through which Marmalade fled the Wendy House was undoubtedly shrinking but he still had room to spare and familiar with such Cripplegate anomalies.
Summoned by the delicious aroma of Kit-E-Kat, Marmalade rebounded gracefully across the Sanitarium lawn until an alarming sight halted his passage -- a moss-covered pedestal supporting alabaster statues of two sisters playing chess.
Marmalade's gold-green eyes narrowed, orange fur bristled and whiskers twitched.
Abnormal. Unexpected. Out-of-place. And bothersome.
A most disquieting affair indeed!
--------------------------------------------------------
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.
---------------------------------------------------------
Well, Patricia, I finally visited the Cripplegate website. Very nicely done. I read the first few installments and they help me understand these stories much better. Are these alabaster sisters new? It may be interesting to see where these two go in your stories.
DeleteI can almost see Marmalade's discomforture with statues not where they should be!
DeleteGet the vertigo gone soon!!!
Excellent title - I speak as one who struggles with them.
DeleteBeen hit with a rather nasty episode of vertigo, which I've felt coming on for a couple of days. Don't think I'll be back with any more tales this week although I'll try to return and comment on the submissions already made. See you on the other side of the whirlygig!
ReplyDeleteOoh, poor you. Take care.
DeleteWe're thinking of you, Patricia.
DeleteMan for Hire
ReplyDelete“I want to hire you.”
“Are you sure? There’s no going back.”
A fat hand slammed the table. “Yes! I gave her everything. Put her on a pedestal. An affair with a tennis pro? Screwing her, putting it in every orifice while they laugh? How much?”
“Fifty large.”
“Too much thirty. And she has to watch while you kill him.” Eyes on Johnny Walker Blue and two glasses. “Drink on it?”
“Okay.” Two drinks poured and swallowed.
The fat man gagging, hairy hands clutching his throat.
“Poison on the glass. Tennis pro paid forty-five. Highest bidder, right?”
Really cool little story. Never dicker with an assassin it seems.
ReplyDeleteThank you, John. Still new here, and new to these guidelines. Not feeling confident enough yet to comment on everyone's stories. Sure that will change soon, as I'm blabby by nature
ReplyDeleteYes, fast paced indeed and well-worked, You seem to be well up to speed to me ...
DeleteFast paced with a neat twist at the end. Well done, Joe!
ReplyDeleteliked this a lot!
DeleteJoe, just spill the thoughts as comments, it's all I do.
The Mad Italian 45.
ReplyDeleteThe affairs of man are complicated by one small thing: overlooking the fact that the mouth is an orifice that works both ways. It is far more sensible to use it to imbibe and eat than it is to talk. It is talking which creates the problems, uttering nonsense to put someone on a pedestal whilst behind their back the affairs of state go on as they always do, conducted by the ‘grey men in suits’ rather than the colourful people who are the front page of the political party. Beware who you listen to…
Locked In
ReplyDeleteLocked In
The party was an expensive one, huge flower arrangements, exquisite food and wine, elegant statues of nude women on pedestals, aimed at bolstering affairs of the heart. It didn’t take long for the drink to circulate and the guests to begin the process of trying to win the prize, a diamond ring, hidden somewhere in the great ballroom.
“Nowhere obvious,” the host boomed over his umpteenth glass of Champagne. ‘Think outside the box!’
Only one person thought of inspecting the statues; guests laughed as he prodded and poked their secret orifices. The live one responded from within her plaster prison.
/such a wonderful, original idea - vividly imaginable
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #119
ReplyDeleteA Tiger Named Roxie
Today marks the end of this affair. Natasha dropped Cleopatra at those people’s cave’s orifice and me two hills away. The Pied Piper trick worked wonderfully. Elle escaped with those people’s plush purple tiger, the one that lived on the prophet pedestal, as soon as the fire spells and song began. Teddy and Elle ended the concert with a duet, freshly written, commemorating our victory. We spent the evening dancing to Indy, Henry, and Natasha’s music in a lovely field of purple star flowers.
Lovely. Just lovely.
Delete