I was reminded of another delicious
word this week, but I’m saving that for later. Hopefully this selection will
not cause head-scratching and discombobulation, and the birthday boys post
their entries before they begin to celebrate.
But at least it made picking a
winner easier: Patricia provided
three well-researched pieces, of which my favourite was the succinct ‘Basic
Instinct’, and Antonia’s Mad Italian
90 earns second prize. As ever, thank you for the entertainment and for the
reading and commenting which ensure this site stays alive and kicking.
Words
for next week: brittle orphan sculpture
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday January 31st,
words and winners posted Friday 1st
February
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 uses 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.
In Sickness and in Health
ReplyDeleteI should have been an orphan, Stephanie thought as she wheeled her mother through the slush. The Cancer Center was packed with sullen faced patients and aggravated caregivers. She squeezed her mother’s brittle shoulder and smiled at the gaunt face, misshapen now, like a sculpture gone bad.
A ruckus erupted down the hall and Stephanie was stunned when she saw the orderly she’d paid being led out in handcuffs. He’d later be dubbed Captain Mercy. She didn’t know what mortified her more; being stuck for the duration or being out fifteen thousand dollars.
This has the uncomfortable ring of a truth we'd rather not articulate, and its horror all the more insidious for that. Excellent, John.
DeleteThe dreary, ominous atmosphere you create for this tale is perfect, John. The misery of such dire events simmers throughout this.
Deleteit's very hard to capture atmospheres, but you did it here and horribly well, if you know what I mean.
DeleteJeffrey here.
DeleteJohn, you exquisitely chiseled a marble masterpiece. Subtle and well defined. An uncomfortable atmosphere hangs on this story.
Clever premise, and rather well executed! Nice one, John.
DeleteA powerful, uncomfortable piece. I thought how you described her mother's face was very striking - 'smiled at the gaunt face, misshapen now, like a sculpture gone bad'.
DeleteWith clever, use of the prompt words you have created some sadly worrying images and descriptions John. A potent and thought provoking piece.
DeleteJohn... here's hoping you have an utterly splendid and very HAPPY BIRTHDAY on the 31st!
DeleteThis is such a thought-provoking piece. The ring of truth is undeniable. I can only imagine how such extended illnesses must take their toll on both patient and caregiver. Marvellous use and insertion of the prompts.
DeleteCongrats to Patricia and Antonia for their excellent and perfect stories last week. No surprise that the cream rose to the top.
ReplyDeletemany thanks to Sandra for choosing Leo's piece as second place, he is well content and has been puffing up his chest all day...with luck he'll calm down in time for him to write his 91st instalment this week.
DeleteAnd congrats to Patricia for her entries this past week, amazing imagination!
EFFECTIVE TACTICS
ReplyDeleteI am twelve and an orphan who has been shuffled among would-be parents for three years without finding any suitable for me. If I don’t like them, which has been the case thus far, I have two means of escape.
One is to display a brittle demeanor. I collapse on the floor and kick and scream. The other is to totally shut down. I sit statue-stiff, just staring blankly ahead for hours. Both have been extremely effective and ultimately result in my returning to the orphanage.
How did I become orphaned?
I hated my birth parents so I killed them.
oh so cold, so starkly cold, which makes it even more horrific.
DeleteJ.D. another beautifully written story, chilling and a bit macabre.
DeleteWell, that got my attention... I suppose that's one way to get the parents you want. Really effective horror writing.
DeleteMy kids like to employ the 'brittle demeanor' technique quite frequently. Thankfully they don't seem to be particularly murderous. Stories with criminal children always give me chills. Well done haha.
DeleteOooooh what a creative and disturbingly matter of fact foray into the mind and world of a homicidal twelve year old.
DeleteThis was so reminiscent of "The Bad Seed." I do believe some souls are born with evil intentions from the beginning. It made me think of the case of Mary Bell, for one. Nicely shocking reveal at the end and imaginatively composed as always.
DeleteIt's our birthday, gonna have a good time...
DeleteCold finality. Shivery.
DeleteTo even be mentioned in the same "breath" as the talent which is Antonia is a huge honour. Thank you, Sandra.
ReplyDeleteLittle Girl Blue
ReplyDeleteMusic fades. Audiences drift away. Again, I am orphaned. Given all I can. Nothing left. Nobody to love. Nobody to care. I return to my hotel room alone.
An exquisite face and sculptured body provoke a desire I can never attain with ravaged skin that is far less than perfection. But I possess value and immortality they will never achieve.
My expressions reveal inner vulnerability. A soul and spirit, tender and true but so very brittle. A voice rich with raw emotion touches many yet still finds me abandoned.
One final little indulgence to ease the sting.
Just one....
An excellent soliloquy on life and perhaps death or it's lack of. Your use of the prompts was very good.
DeleteI picture a performer, trapped in her existence, pleasing all but herself, turning to drugs, despite the negative effects. So sad and exquisite in its language.
DeleteYou capture despair and hopelessness so well in this, Patricia.
Deleteintense sadness radiates out of this. Look at the variety of emotions we've discussed from one short piece. Brilliant writing.
DeleteYou always make me envious of your compact and skilfully constructed offerings Patricia. Your clever use of the prompts within the stories never fail to take me through a ranging scope of emotion.
DeleteBeautiful and haunting. The despair is very real here, though there is also the struggle for rising above it, with the narrator's 'I possess value and immortality they will never achieve'.
DeleteActually composed with a certain rock goddess in mind, but I'm pleased to see it transcends beyond the obvious.
DeleteExcellently depicted picture of a hollow life.
DeleteA Banquette Before the Banquette
ReplyDeleteIt was breath taking to behold. A magnificent sculpture of a dragon, constructed entirely from peanut brittle, spanning the entire length of the banquette hall.
They admired their handiwork before opening the doors. In the wake of the stampede the air hummed to the sounds of crunching and slurping as the children engorged themselves.
The women watched, salivating in expectation, almost overcome with nostalgia.
“Just like the old candy houses we used to build in the woods,” sighed one.
And as the orphans devoured the dragon the witches slunk off to fire up their ovens.
Didn't think of peanut brittle; nice. Loved the image of the witches salivating over the children.
Deletesuperb twist on the old tale, David, great one!
DeleteWhat a brilliant twist on a familiar fairy tale David .Love it.
DeleteI love your take on the fairy tale, and the dragon sculpture must have been a masterpiece to see. Very imaginative. I loved the last two lines, especially the moment of nostalgia. :)
DeleteI just adore these types of reworked tales. I call them "fractured." Not sure of the actual term, but that works well for me. This was magnificent. Love the image of witches slunking away to light up their ovens. Nice use of "brittle" too. That definition hadn't occurred to me.
DeleteVery vivid imagery. Very chilling end.
DeleteLovely use of brittle and a great twist on an old classic. Very good story David.
ReplyDeleteThis is great stuff, David! A very imaginative and well-written take on that old story!
ReplyDeleteMandatory Elective
ReplyDeleteI got home later than normal from my night class.
“Dear, how was your art class?”
“Frustrating. I’m the orphan sophomore taking an elective. A few seniors, they’ve offered to help but those getting advanced degrees most ignore me. My pottery is gauche, brittle, and beneath them. They sculpt in stone or metal.”
“The kids stayed up until you got home.”
Avalon and Maverick always evoke a smile. Their autistic journey so much harder than mine. Their joy so much more. I kiss and hug two of my three masterpieces. At least I got it perfect in one medium.
Jeffrey, this lovely. Thank you.
DeleteI agree with Dave. A great tribute.
Deletethis is good! An indepth look at aspirations and putting them into context of what matters in life.
DeleteI have to agree with all the above Jeffrey . What an emotive and special story .
DeleteA beautiful piece, and I love your use of medium in the final line.
DeleteNicely done with an imaginative twist. I love the names "Avalon" and "Maverick." Any particular significance?
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
Delete
DeletePatricia, Maverick and Avalon are my two youngest and are both autism spectrum disorder children. My oldest is named Tempest.
My thanks to all of you for your comments.
Where The Heart Is
ReplyDeleteThis orphanage was my boyhood home. It's been closed for a while. Perhaps condemned would be a better word. Only derelicts and degenerates live there now. Like me.
Our custodians were callous guardians, Stony-faced as Roman sculptures with the same empty eyes. They battered malnourished bodies, shattered brittle bones and inflicted many other torments I won't go into here (for which I'm sure you're grateful).
They instilled in their young charges a legacy of scars, both external and internal, together with perpetual night terrors and an undeniably overwhelming passion to continue the tradition.
A rare double dose of stand-alones this week, Patricia. This orphanage would make a great setting for the horriest of horror movies, now even more sinister than when it was in operation. Gruesome and satisfying at the same time.
DeleteYou painted such a vivid verbal picture of the atrocities that took place in that hell hole, Patricia.
DeleteYour description of the house gave me an very dreary Oliver Twist scene, the Artful Dodger providing the narration. Wonderful use of prompts.
Deletethis one's chilling, it really is.
DeleteLove the evocative alliteration of ‘empty eyes’ and ‘brittle bones’ as well as the stark images created around those prompt words. Definitely made me shiver.
DeleteChilling and horrible. Terrie called out the imagery that stuck with me the most. And that ending line 'and an undeniably overwhelming passion to continue the tradition', promises that the horror is not over.
Delete"Stony-faced as Roman sculptures" an excellent line.
DeleteOrphan
ReplyDeleteTelan held the brittle shard of ice candy in her tiny, dirt-streaked palm, and tried not to cry.
“Do you not like it?” the young woman asked. Her accented voice was confused, as she stared at the orphan.
“I-I do,” Telan said quickly, swiping at her eyes. “It just reminds me of Papa.”
“Ah” The woman knelt and placed a hand on Telan’s shoulder. Her sculptured face seemed more metal than flesh, the skin painted gray, and her eyes shiny inside rings of black. “Memories make us weak, little one.”
She stepped closer, blocking Telan’s view of the blood-washed courtyard.
I thought of you when I read the prompt words and I somehow knew you'd do 'orphan' well. Great descriptive language.
DeleteI was so impressed with your structure of the 4th paragraph, Zaiure, that I read it over and over. Great writing!
DeleteVery good story and I enjoyed how you used descriptions to advance the story.
Deletesuperb writing, capped by the dreadful imagery in the last line.
DeleteYou have really captured the mood of the moment, and transported the reader into the stark reality of the scene Zaiure. Your expert writing cleverly pulled me into the story so I had to go back when I had finished reading to pick out the prompt words.
DeleteI always miss your beautiful interpretations of the prompts when you don't put in an appearance to enchant. Nice to see your return...and to see you have lost none of your extraordinary talent.
Delete"Gentle horror" sounds a contradiction, but this is an excellent example.
Delete
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 42
Armi saw the snarl sculpted on Moloch’s lips.
‘Countin on ‘im noticin’, Atlas mate… He’s “The boss,” or knows who is. I aim t’ get ‘im alone an’ beat it outta ‘im.’
‘Wot yu want me t’do?’
‘Wot yu do best Atlas.’
Atlas nodded, ‘Divershun’s me middle name.’
Armi’s snout twisted into a brittle grin, ‘I fort it was Marv,’ he chuckled, planting a berry-stained kiss on Atlas’s cheek.
An enraged howl carried over the din as Moloch leaped over the table.
‘ ’Ere we go then,’ Armi observed, brightly, ‘ gonna be sum widers and orphans after t’night .’
I can't believe it's been 42 episodes already. Time does fly when you're reading good literature. Sounds like Moloch might be a little jealous. Loved the sculpted snarl.
DeleteHow cleverly you inserted the prompt words into this episode, Terrie. Also, I love the phrase 'a berry-stained kiss.' Nicely done!
DeleteFirst, congrats on going this long with a very intriguing and well written series. This one doesn't disappoint. Engaging dialog and a nice setup for a fight.
Deleteit's the sculpted snarl for me too, John, Terri's done a great job this week!
DeleteThey're such fun, rich characters. I loved the phrasing 'the snarl sculpted' and 'a berry-stained kiss'.
DeleteThe 'dillos have been sorely missed. What a lovely treat to see their return. Love the image of a snout that "twisted into a brittle grin." But then again, there is so much of this episode to delight in.
DeleteWhat a fantastic final sentence. As were the preceding ones.
DeleteAching [Threshold 233]
ReplyDeleteThey say the eyes are windows into the soul. The time each of us spent gazing at the other’s; the view was complex. From the first, Raven epitomised Frink’s stone Tribute sculptures; never before had I seen such vulnerability: his pain reached back to childhood; his treatment worse than any orphanage, not all of which was physical.
Several minutes passed before he spoke. ‘I failed you.’
His guilt, the brittleness of his confidence, was all on my behalf.
I denied: ‘I lost your child.’
‘A girl.’
‘A daughter. Our daughter. We’ll try again.’
‘No. It was likely for the best.’
You thread pain and grief so masterfully through this tale, Sandra. Well done.
DeleteOh, Raven, you can't talk like that. Shame on you.
DeleteReally nice, Sandra. As Jim said, pain and grief done so masterfully.
great sense of loss and loneliness - beautifully set out.
DeleteI really likes this Sandra. You convey the heartache and hurting of both your MCs so expertly. I especially like seeing that brief glimpse of the softer, vulnerable, side to Raven … he drops his guard just a little, exposes it, then bam, back up goes the defence wall.
DeleteThese characters continue to be so fascinating and multi-layered. I grieve for their loss. I loved the phrasing of 'His guilt, the brittleness of his confidence'.
DeleteBeautiful exchange of thoughts and feelings. Too many lovely lines to select just one...but that last line is a total heart-breaker.
DeleteSquatter’s Rites 17
ReplyDelete“Jacob Minor, can you be killed,” ask Mr. Gyst.
“I’m as brittle as you are sonny. Your client and his hussy wife, destroyed my wife, evicting us from my house.”
“Is that why you’re suing my client? Over ownership of the house?”
“He’s an orphan, didn't know shit about his heritage until you contacted him. He thinks soup cans are a sculpture.”
“Objection your honor, the witness isn’t answering the question.”
“Sustained.”
“Yes.”
“Do you need the house to live?”
“No, it makes living easier.”
“Do you use money?”
“No.”
“In fact, you’re the same as a pet.”
“Never.”
When you think of it, ghosts do kind of rely on humans for their existence. Thought provoking.
DeleteExpert manipulation of dialogue once more. Most certainly your strongest forte.
DeleteChange of focus [293]
ReplyDelete‘Mama!’
Aleks – at nine already a diplomat – ran to hug his mother, instantly melting her brittleness, Over his head she regarded Batiste Balincek and Pettinger with equal disdain – a classicist come face to face with an Anthony Caro sculpture.
‘Yanno?’
‘I’m in Khakbethia to investigate a murder.‘
‘Who?’
‘A Tamara Petzincek, Called herself Pretty in the UK.’
‘Another migrant? War orphan?’
‘Victim, certainly. Prostituted from the age of fourteen.’
Pettinger fell silent. He’d copies of the sketches the girl had done, identifying her assailants, in his bag. Had diverted here on hearing of Valdeta’s being burnt out of her home.
Intrigue piled on top secrecy... very unsettling, but delicious at the same time.
Deleteso what now for Pettinger's plans? And how are you holding this together for so many episodes without losing control of it?
DeleteHad to scroll back to episode 277 - body in a slurry pit - which I confess I'd totally forgotten. These catch-up episodes necessary for me, at least!)
DeleteExpert weaving of a story from episode to episode with no loss of consistency. Wish I could display the same talent. I'm afraid my two serializations are becoming rambling and slipping through my fingers. Still looking for a satisfactory way to wind them both up. But enough of that....I will simply enjoy the way a master does it.
DeleteUnexpected Opportunity 6
ReplyDelete“Specialist Cranston, is it safe to approach the shield?”
“Uh, yes it is.”
“Let's take a walk.”
General McDarren almost swallowed his cigar.
“The shield might be safe, the aliens could be hostile. You’re the President’s son, I have to protect you.”
“How would they know what a President is or I’m his son? We’ve fired weapons at them and you think they might be hostile? Communication is an art, like sculpting. I’m the brittle son whose father treats me like an orphan.”
“How will you communicate?’
“I'll ask our new neighbors if I can borrow a cup of sugar.”
Nice one, Jeffrey. A realistic, fast moving conversation that tells the story well.
DeletePerhaps there's some sense in the president's son's apparent madness, Jeffrey. I certainly wasn't expecting that last line. This is good stuff!
DeleteThat last line brought a definite chuckle. Thank you for brightening my day, Jeffrey.
DeleteThe Masterpiece is Lacking
ReplyDeleteThe woman stared at the nearly finished sculpture and frowned. “It reminds me of the little eunuch boy they rescued from the palace orphanage.”
Michelangelo looked up from his sketching. “Shit, it fell off again. This marble is so brittle.” He picked the member up from the floor and tossed it in a pile of rubble.
“Oh, you’re throwing it away?”
“I can’t just glue it back on. Each part must be part of the whole.”
As Michelangelo sketched, the woman furtively kicked it to the side and tucked it away in her robes, her eyes gleaming.
As a history major, I greatly enjoy when history is 'played with'. You did one very good job, tight writing and good dialog.
Deleteoh love it! Such a clever use of a (possible) moment in history!!
DeleteAwww...naughty, naughty! What an out-the-box use of the prompts. But I'm not surprised, given the source. I wonder what Michelangelo was sketching while pieces kept detaching themselves from his masterpiece.
DeleteSet me giggling, every time I read it, trying to seriously analyse.
DeleteSo... this was the start of the sex-toy industry, eh, John? Once again, your fine imagination is on vivid display.
ReplyDeleteStop the Week, I Want To Get Off (32)
ReplyDeleteOne of our customers is an eccentric. He bought three heads, Grecian style sculptures, and left them as he didn’t want to carry them home that day. That was months ago. I unpacked the bag today and returned the brittle fragile heads to the shelf. One is of a boy who could be a model for the ‘I am an orphan’ fund raising people… I desperately want to clear the loo of its wood, boxes, stored tools, wood for a put-together unit I want put together before the Chinese New Year… but it means the cooperation of a male…
I cannot help but be amazed how you accomplish this week after week...and with such ease of flow. I truly have to search every week for the prompt words but only do so after I've already perused the entry at least once for the simple joy of reading.
DeleteMuseums have many master pieces and all marvel at what they see. The thing is masterpieces don't need museums, but they need masterpieces. Another worthy story, Antonia.
DeleteWe sold a dinghy to a man who paid then disappeared for a couple of years. After we found it another home, he came back, demanding his money back. Wish we'd thought of charging him rent!
DeleteThe Mad Italian 91
ReplyDeleteBrittle is the perfect word for the atmosphere in the Parliament at this time, with a high possibility of the PM becoming an orphan in the wild world of the EU. She has worked at a complex piece of legislation and deal-making which I cannot see going through. It is too complex and too many people would be disenfranchised, something they will rebel against and so bring down the entire fragile sculpture. Now it is a race against time, which is never a good thing where any kind of deal making is concerned. I can only stand back and watch.
How right you are... apt use of brittle to describe the atmosphere in parliament right now.
DeleteI always look forward to reading the reflective thoughts of the learned Italian.
I'm with Terrie in looking forward to reading what our esteemed Leonardo has to say each week. Long may he grace you with his visits, Antonia.
DeleteLeonardo's observations are bereft of political talking points. Your work with him to bring these to us is appreciated.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 43
ReplyDeleteTosca shivered as an orphan wind strafed the water. He shook himself and hurried from the pool: Nigel followed.
Sculptured against brittle moonlight, Sarg sat atop a boulder waiting for them.
‘I need a couple of soldiers I can rely on,’ she said, 'an’ you two are it.’
I’m yer dillo,’ said Nigel
Me ‘n all lovey.’ added Tosca. ‘Wot we gotta do?’
Findin’ out might cure yer eagerness’ Sarg warned,
Aubrey, Clancy an’ you are gonna march the Vark an’ Pangolin forces t’ this side o’ rat bottom gully an’ dig in. I want that Pangonel ready fer action.’
Oooohhh....a second episode. I think I might like this one even better than the first this week. "I'm yer dillo," said Nigel. It just don't get no better than that!
DeleteI'll second the double entendre of "I'm yer dillo". Good episode.
DeleteLovely, original use of prompts - and so enjoyable.
DeleteAnother splendid entry, Terrie! Keep 'em coming!...orphan wind strafed the water... and ... Sculptured against brittle moonlight ... great stuff!
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 174 - In Memoriam
ReplyDeleteThe Conductor blew his whistle. A brittle sound that shattered and silenced the hubbub of the platform. He found the quietude unsettling and wasn't even sure what had possessed him to blare such a fanfare in the first place. He shrank into the crowd and pocketed the offending instrument.
The Station Master, sculptured features in profile, appeared irritated at the interruption but then continued his conversation with Clive Bailey.
"Do you recall when one wing of the Sanitarium also housed an orphanage?" he asked.
Clive did remember that. But why? How?
The Station Master nodded.
"Thought you might, old boy."
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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/cripplegate.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
----------------------------------------------------------
Was Clive a resident of that orphanage? Good mystery in this and writting.
DeleteUnsettling for sure, and I loved the brittle whistle.
DeleteHm... and just what did the station master have to do with the orphanage wing? Very interesting, Patricia!
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Forty Eight) - "Wax And Wane"
ReplyDeleteThe wax sculpture of Capers at the entrance to Giselle's Timeless Tableaux had deteriorated alarmingly. Giselle's creations usually endured. In this instance, wax became prematurely brittle and flaked into pieces that littered the ground.
To Cinders, the deceased clown's sister, the crumbling effigy was distressing. She watched over her little brother when they wandered, like orphans, between venues in earlier days and it was Cinders who found Capers' lifeless body.
Tittering giggles, shrill and girlish, from a nearby source unseen caused Cinders unspeakable umbrage. Such disrespect!
Though known as the "Convivial Clown," Cinders could be most vindictive when fancy struck.
---------------------------------------------------------
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: Clown siblings, Capers and Cinders, as well as Giselle's Timeless Tableaux Waxwork Exhibition, have all featured in previous episodes.
Convivial, good word and very well used. I worry about Cinders. Another good episode.
DeleteYou've created an atmosphere of melancholy in this one, Patricia.
DeleteI N H I S I M A G E
ReplyDeleteA brittle sculpture, it had no purpose, supposedly. Its creator was good-naturedly laughed at for his seeming folly. Delicate and weak, the world that was created for it would surely destroy it quickly.
‘He” said the creator, “not it”. “HE will be my child. HE will be above all of the creatures down there,” he said, gesturing down at the blue ball. “He even looks a little like me, yes?”
This brought forth a new round of chuckles and rolling eyes amongst his peers. But he was loved, so they let him have his little creation. What could it hurt?
Very well thought out and creatively composed. I liked the somewhat offhand delivery. It fit very nicely with the concept. Now I wonder what might be an alternative name for the "blue ball"....hmmmm.....
DeleteYes, for me it was the voice that made this so effective. Thought-provoking.
DeleteA nice take on creation, Dave. Like your use of the prompts and the last line was good.
ReplyDelete"What could it hurt?" What a great finish to this tale, Dave. That line opens up a score of intriguing possibilities. Very nicely done!
ReplyDeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #165
ReplyDeleteBecause You’re Injured
Henry swooped in as my too brittle ankle was being repaired. Between gritted teeth and ‘I’m not fainting, pirates don’t faint,’ I understood that someone meant to make me an orphan.
The dark elf was merely a vindictive distraction. We’re to stay away until it’s safe.
It’s not fair! I know lots about hiding in sculptures, and Mother’s in danger. Why can’t I go?
So very satisfying and enjoyable - thank you Rosie.
Delete