Several pieces this week filled with excellently depicted world-wide
horror, but it is the tiny, personal ones I especially liked: Patricia’s ‘Cornus Rosea’ with its beyond
terrifying theme of child abduction and murder, and newcomer Terri’s beautifully-expressed
observations on the travails of writing. Which is not to say I didn’t immensely
enjoy the others. Thank you all for both posting and so diligently commenting.
Words for next week: armadillo cheer theft
Entries by
midnight Thursday 26th April winners
and words posted Friday 27th
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.
Congratulations, Patricia and Terri. Both your stories were incredible. You really raised the bar this week.
ReplyDeleteWhat a magnificent achievement, Terri...taking top spot on your first attempt! Great job! And a personal thank you to Sandra for the mention.
ReplyDeletePatricia, you and Terri were equally top spot
DeleteCongrats to Terri and Patricia for their marvelous work last week. You gals were very deserving.
DeleteI was impressed by the skill and variety of all the entries, I'd be useless at choosing a winner but pleased mine was liked. I'm trying a bit of fantasy this week.
DeleteFood Truck
ReplyDeleteShe opened shutters for business around lunchtime every day in front of the tall office block. Even from the street, the cry of "Food truck's here!" was heard echoing throughout the building.
She greeted each patron with a cheery smile and her bill of fare was both reasonable and unparalleled. Many local bistros accused her of theft...stealing customers and threatening livelihoods. But she was unconcerned.
Her specialty, three alarm chilli, was an old family recipe. Delicious spices, tender beans and succulent meat, always fresh courtesy of the highway near her home where roadkill armadillos could be found aplenty.
congratulations Terri and Patricia!
DeleteHey look, I'm commenting...
re: the Mad Italian's comments this week - the Windrush ship brought immigrants to the UK in the 60s. Someone has decided that some of them and especially their children, now grown up and thinking they're British citizens, are not legally entitled to be here unless they have papers to prove it... the furore is set to roll on for some time. Meantime some people have lost their jobs, their homes, everything. Someone has over=interpreted a Government dictat on immigration. It's a disaster.
Thanks for the kind words about my quick comments, I'm sure I have authors on the mailing list who have no intention of writing for me any more but don't want to miss the gossip!!
that's a very surreal way of using the prompts but oh it works!
DeleteUm... I'm not eating there. Good story lol
DeleteThere were mutterings of 'I ain't eating roadkill' whenever kangaroo was on the menu in Australia. I enjoyed the telling of this though.
DeleteWho is this woman, Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies? Do you know why the chicken crossed the road? To show the armadillo it could be done.
DeleteVery clever, Patricia. Loved it.
I have no words. Armadillo road kill? Oh, my. And I love chili. Great story. Gonna have a salad for dinner.
DeleteClever weaving of the three words Patricia, although, like Joe, I've kind of lost my appetite for meat.
DeleteThe setting has to be Texas, as some people make a living pulling armadillo roadkill of the highways. A good read!
Delete"Armadillo theft is serious business!"
ReplyDeleteI sighed at Mr. Taylor. To be fair, it was a stuffed armadillo. Something of a legend in our smalltown, where the biggest event is cheering at the school's football games.
The critter in question weighed around a few hundred pounds and sat proudly in front of Mr. Taylor's grocery store. If anyone wanted to steal it they'd have trouble hiding it and a hernia to boot.
"Who's gonna take Bob?" Yes. Bob was the armadillo's name.
"Sheriff, maybe it was my wife." He sniffled. "She hated him."
Lord, have mercy on Bob.
"If anyone wanted to steal it they'd have trouble hiding it and a hernia to boot" - sheer poetry, this.
DeleteThose small town antics, this one to become a legend, along with poor Bob's wife. Very enjoyable.
DeleteWait, Bob was the armadillo... it was the other guy's wife.
DeletePoor Bob. Well written. Very enjoyable.
Deletewry story, with a good twist. Liked it.
DeletePoor Bob. I don't think I'll ponder overly long on his ultimate fate. Very cute tale with an amusing twist on the prompts. As one who found incorporating "armadillo" into anything with any success this week, I applaud this magnificent effort.
DeleteTexas Hospitality
ReplyDeleteHe rode into Armadillo with the setting sun at his back and the head of Jose Luella Cruz stuffed in his saddlebag. The Cumberland was packed and the cowpoke sidled up to the bar.
“Cheers Amigo,” a voice behind him said.
Shocked, the cowpoke stared into the living face of his enemy.
“You should check the identity of a man before you kill him,” Cruz said, smiling.
The cowpoke reached for his gun but died before his carcass hit the floor.
“The theft of my farm is one thing,” Cruz said, holstering his sidearm. “Killing my brother is yet another.”
I've realised that so often your first lines instil a sort of greed for more, which is something of a revelation, to say nothing of your skill in writing them.
DeleteAnd having savoured that, I'll re-read the rest ...
If one's profession is thievery and murder, one must be extremely careful. As always, John, beautifully written.
DeleteA clever, cautionary, tale about watching your back in a saloon. Brilliant.
DeleteWell done. I used to love reading westerns when I was (much) younger.
DeleteNice. A case of mistaken identity gone awry.
Deletegood one, I wondered where it was going... and liked the way it went!
DeleteExtraordinarily clever and I love the nonchalant reference to the head of Jose Luella Cruz being stuffed into a saddlebag.
DeleteChange of focus [279]
ReplyDeleteThe nose in the centre of the pathologist’s bluff, be-whiskered and weather-beaten face approached closely to the still faintly slurry-stained buttock of the dead girl. Fingers that performed a theft of dignity of every body which lay before him probed and stretched the skin. Eyes squinted at the blue and fuzzy-edged tattoo.
‘Crown you reckon, John? Ask me, I’d say armadillo –‘
‘Take my word, Simeon, it’s a crown. I’ve a far better quality one in the exact same place –‘
Upward glance. ‘You gonna tell me?’
‘Buy me a pint?’
Ten minutes to the nearest pub, then, anticipatory, ‘Cheers.’
The saga continues... getting better and better. I know you didn't plan to use armadillo this way when you thought up the words... or did you?
DeleteNice bit about the pathologist.
No John :-) These words, as they so often are, were picked from clues or answers from the 'Telegraph' crossword. (And with two serials and the intent at least of a stand-alone, no way could I choose words to benefit me!!) The pathologist has appeared, but never been named, before.
DeleteAn almost creepy visual image of post mortem but so enticing draws you in to wanting more .
DeleteWonderful visualization. Well worded and great use of the prompts.
DeleteThis piece, Sandra, is rife with clear, powerful language that keeps the reader hooked. Very nicely done!
Deleteyou don't step back from the nasty stuff, which is good, tough writing is good writing.
DeleteVivid recreation of what I imagine is the usual type of banter that takes place between those who feel at ease in autopsy situations. I love how Pettinger's family is gradually being revealed. Not too much at one time but just enough to keep us hanging on for more.
DeleteIgnorance is No Excuse
ReplyDelete“You know why you’re here?” the judge asked.
I shrugged. “Something to do with an armadillo.”
Laughter sprinkled with cheers erupted in the courtroom, but ceased when the judge slammed his gavel down.
“You, Sir, are accused of theft, of stealing a weapon and giving it to a dillo, a degenerate species that seeks to destroy us.”
“A dillo?” I asked. “But, Judge, I didn’t know. I’m new to this planet. That thing grabbed it right out of my hands!”
“Ignorance is no excuse,” the judge exclaimed. “You are hereby sentenced to death, the penalty if you arm a dillo.”
Posted my effort, then read yours and chuckled.
DeleteThat got a total belly laugh. Great story
DeleteHave to admit to a groan - an admiring one, nevertheless!
Deleteoh my... some people have such devious and dangerously funny minds...
DeleteOh yes. Delightful and so creative. To "arm a dillo." This is likely the most amusing entry we'll have this week. Very nicely done.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries
ReplyDeleteA growling cheer rippled among the coyotes as the armadillo, uncurled, eyed the pack, and farted.
‘I tol’ ya feckers, I ain’t fer eating. Lemme go, or I bust heads.’
The coyote-king ignored the warning and leapt. His teeth met the full force of an armoured tail and shattered. He slumped, unconscious as a leathery forepaw clouted his muzzle.
His minions howled and attacked: A barrage of bone-shattering blows sent them yowling and limping back into the trees.
‘Told ya,’ the armadillo stuffed something into its backpack and ambled away into the darkness.
No-one noticed the theft of the crown.
Sounds like the kind of armadillo we have in my part of the world, Terri. Nicely done!
DeleteThat was one tough Amarillo. He deserved the crown. Well done.
DeleteLovely image sprang from this - an armadillo in a crown. He earned it.
Deleteclever last line, worked very well. Nice one!
DeleteI truly never noticed the insertion of the prompt words in this one. Like I've previously mentioned, as one who struggled (mostly in vain) with finding an appropriate use of armadillo this week, I adored this and as for the title....well.... Perhaps we can look forward to further adventures of this motley crew?
DeleteAttempting insouciance [Threshold 206]
ReplyDeleteWhich had the thicker skin? Rhinoceros or armadillo? Whichever, Raven’s was thicker, and the knife-scored hatchings across his back, giving rise to ideas of armour, further strengthened the argument for the latter.
He seemed so cheered by my leaving, cautiously turning and propping himself to watch, on pillows whose cases likely still bore the scent of my hair that it left me no space to recant.
I gathered the few garments in my possession. At the bottom of a cupboard I found a canvas rucksack to carry them in.
‘Can I take this?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it would be theft.’
Talk about a bad breakup. Nicely done. He is a cad. Hope she told him where to stick his sack.
DeleteAs if there weren't more important considerations...very smooth, very nice, Sandra!
Deletepesky blogger...
DeleteI like this, it's tough, uncompromising and just the way it is most times when there's a breakup...
Just when I think I may have nailed the character of Raven (a little bit anyway)...along comes this installment, which read with an enviably smooth rhythm and a killer last line.
DeleteArmadillo Intrusion
ReplyDeleteThe ghosts of ancient eyes observe from millennial ruins as the Armadillo comes humming across an ochre desert, axles bouncing in agile accommodation of the erratic terrain.
'Theft! a legion of ectoplasmic voices wails on the wind. 'They covet Mother Mars.'
The vehicle judders to a halt, acrid oil drips from pistons, vertical doors hush open.
A brace of soft creatures emerges into magenta sunlight. Vagabonds of a wasted blue planet.
The shaft of their flag penetrates the sacred sands. A victorious cheer is matched by spontaneous howls of outrage.
Red dust rises in devouring rusty columns.
How vivid...a masterful selection of words created a great tale, David!
DeleteVery visual, and so many superb phrases.
DeleteSo well written. You certainly can turn a phrase.
Deletevery vivid, very atmospheric. Like this a lot.
DeleteSome beautifully crafted images here and lovely implementation of atmosphere. Definitely had a science fiction/fantasy element. This could easily be expanded into a serialization of a rather epic flavour.
DeleteOutstanding imagery I especially like the opening line and the last, they give a brilliant view of a dry and dusty but sacred and ancient planet.
ReplyDeleteServed right
ReplyDeleteAfter the theft of my crappy Fiat I needed a little retail therapy to cheer me up.
Shoes of course. Because I can only afford Crocs, in the year before last’s colour.
Swankiest shoe store in town, playing posh bitch, trying and discarding pair after pair of the Armadillo Spring range. (Same price as a month’s rent on my grotty bed-sit).
Eventually Miss Snooty said, ‘You’ll find the most appropriate range for yourself through that door. Just push it hard.
I did. And too late recognised that water immediately beyond was a pool, in which swam several genuine teeth-gnashing crocodiles.
Great story. I suppose she wore out her welcome. Well done.
Deleteoh nasty one, straight into the pool, oh my. Nightmare story!
DeleteMagnificent stand-alone that appears to have been created with such ease. The flow was incredible and came complete with a last line that I did not expect. Can I find out where that store is? I'd rather like to avoid paying it a visit.
DeleteA Country Bar
ReplyDeleteIt hunched, clawed feet caressing cool sand, staring at the neon sign. An armadillo brandishing a six gun and a glass of cheer, blinking green and blue. It had forgotten language. Could not read the sign. A theft of time. Another pick-up screeched into the paved lot. Drunken laughter followed slamming doors. It knew it had never driven but remembered riding horses. Centuries ago. A potbellied man walked towards him, grunting. It slithered into shadow.
Its tail tensed. When had it grown a tail? Could not remember. It thought long ago. The man came closer, began urinating. It salivated. Dinner.
interesting scenario here, left me wanting to know much more.
DeleteWonderful set-up for something which promises lyrical horror.
DeleteNow this was intriguing. I love the way the armadillo is confused as to when a tail became part of its anatomy. The western setting was also unusual. Given the right director, this would make for a great little "Black Mirror" episode.
DeleteWhat the future could hold, eh, Joe? A novel and very interesting use of the prompts.
ReplyDeleteLate Night Musings
ReplyDeleteLate Night Musings
A miniature armadillo, a woodlouse, trundles its way across the garbage strewn alley. If it finds food, unlike us humans, it will tell the others and a swarm of them will arrive and carry off the loot. You could call it theft, you could call it survival. I’m just observing, is all. It isn’t cheering me up to see them, if I’m honest, but there’s not much else to do. It’s dark, it’s cold.
Foolish me, ‘if’ it finds food. There’s a load of it over here, the woodlouse hasn’t found it yet but them my body is still warm.
Ugh! I certainly wasn't anticipating THAT! Well done!
DeleteVery tricky, Antonia. A good unexpected punch in the gut at the end.
DeleteOooooh, Antonia I liked this. Seemingly innocent musings ending with an unexpected hook .
DeleteGood one. Nice twist. Very creepy ending
DeleteComparison of a woodlouse to a miniature armadillo. How creative was that? You don't always treat us to a stand-alone every week, Antonia, but when you do they never fail to reach outstanding heights. This was particularly horrific.
DeleteThe Mad Italian 52.
ReplyDeleteYou need the armour of an armadillo to enter the House of Commons, and be prepared for the theft of your ability to believe in yourself. The cheers you hear at times are for the benefit of themselves. It’s designed to have the Speaker’s attention drawn to them for a second. There are better ways of doing it but then we are talking about MPs, not normal human beings, are we not?
So I ask why Question Time has to be portrayed and indeed be, more like a gladiatorial battle than civilised beings working for the good of the people.
Would certainly be better were it not. For them.
DeleteSome things are the same no matter where you live. Wonderful
DeleteAh, the shenanigans that take place in those hallowed halls of government. I do believe Leonardo must have agents secreted in every nook and cranny taking notes and delivering them to the Master.
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Sixteen) - "The Spurned And The Smitten"
ReplyDeleteClaiming identify theft, Arburthnot Jester denied volunteering as the travelling circus' human cannonball. However, the diminutive risk-taker would give it a try.
"Anything once," he often said.
The Scorned Sisterhood, Arby's snubbed inamoratas bent on retribution, underwent a change of heart at such temerity. They formed a cheering section.
"Dashing little daredevil!"
He arrived sporting a costume of protective armadillo scales. Escorted by Bearded Beatrix on one side and Cristobel, Corsican Contortionist, on the other, he soundly smooched both before being lowered into the barrel.
At this display of ardor, the mood of the muttering Sisterhood turned ugly once again.
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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.
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NOTE: Arbuthnot Jester and The Scorned Sisterhood have Featured in previous episodes.
I will have to cat h up, but your story was well done. Well written and enjoyable. Nice work.
DeleteThe armadillo scales armour is a subtly horrifying image, Patricia.
DeleteOnly one stand-alone and one serialization this week. Try as I might, "armadillo" just refused to cooperate with anything related to "Cripplegate Junction." I will return later with my comments on these excellent tales by the excellent creative minds that found "armadillo" to be no stumbling block!!!
ReplyDeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #126
ReplyDeleteSecret Passages
Elle found her with a single ‘theft’ of my mother’s key, the one with the rosebud on it. Hex, curled up armadillo-style on her head, was not amused. She glared, then startled when the rest of us wandered in and cheered almost silently. Zehra woke up with a glare of her own, but a whispered promise of hot cocoa and snoop-proof rooms got her up, Hex gracefully tumbling into her arms.
As ever, a magical delight.
Delete