In the end, and by the merest
wolfish whisker, I chose Zaiure’s ‘After
the bath’, and thank you all for the enjoyment.
Words for
next week: facsimile knit roll
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday February 21st,
words and winners posted Friday 22nd
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.
It's great to be among the mentioned, and way to go Zaiure, a worthy entry.
ReplyDeleteYours was a most worthy selection for the top spot last week, Zaiure.
DeleteHere here Zaiure (How does one pronounce that?)! You deserve every bit of the accolades! And yes, I knew I was too late last week, but I wanted to contribute.
DeleteThank you so much!
Delete@Dave I pronounce it 'Zai-ur' or 'Zye-ur'. I made it up a long time ago for a MMO character I had, and used it as a pen name for a while. :)
many congratulations Zaiure, brilliant writing as always.
DeleteBickering Heights
ReplyDeleteHis wife came into the den, a drink in her hand.
“Christ, Harvey, can’t you spruce up the place? Books strewn about, old calendars, Dollar Store roller pens, would it kill you to buy a nice pen?”
“Why don’t you knit yourself a muffler, for your mouth,” he said.
“Classy, Harvey.” She picked up a coffee cup. “I believe there’s mold growing in this. It’s the 21st goddamn century, for crying out loud, does that facsimile machine even work?”
Harvey opened his desk drawer and fingered the monogrammed solid pewter letter opener. Not yet, he thought. He’d sharpen it first.
Um ... not sure monogrammed' is good on a murder weapon. You've certainly caught the tone of complaining wife.
DeleteNastiness expressed in such a direct and brutal way, John. I'm not hopeful this couple will make up. Well Done!
DeleteYou've really captured that undercurrent of venom between the bickering couple, John. Great last sentence too.
Deletethat's very much how it goes, or so I see when couples don't agree in the shop (it happens)... good one, John.
DeleteThreshold 216 was happiness ... of a sort.
DeleteLovely lesson in how a disagreement can escalate. I have a feeling that letter opener may well be used for an other-than-usual purpose very soon. Unfortunately, the monogram may well be a giveaway and Harvey might wish to reconsider....
DeleteJohn, well put together story and it wouldn't surprise me if the monogrammed letter opener has someone else's initials on it. Very good use of the prompts.
DeleteI like the dark humour
DeleteOn consideration [Threshold 236]
ReplyDeleteI’d heard of features knitting in perplexity, attempting to deny a lie, and looked for similar in Raven’s face, uncertain whether he’d bluster male conviction or attempt some facsimile of justification for the hurt he must’ve known he’d dealt to me.
In truth, that questioning accusation – “will we ever be the same” – unfair; since I’d attempted to mislead by hiding my pregnancy, and a roll-call of my mothering ability – one born and one miscarried – and his as a stand-in father, smothering my son to keep him from a more painful death, not exactly creditable.
Quietly, ‘How soon can we leave?’
Very well written Sandra you evoke such empathy for both these emotionally and physically damaged characters.I so want them to find some kind of respite and a scrap of happiness...
DeleteLies, the basis of many a good "burning" tale. Very good, Sandra. More please!
DeleteYes, I agree they need to leave, but where will you be taking us next? I suggest a happy place where they will be 'high fiving' each other and laughing... but likely not.
Deletea scrap of happiness might be nice, but it wouldn't sit well with the rest of this compelling serial!
DeleteWhat a series of unfortunate happenings are hereby revealed. It can only be a testament to devotion that the couple have managed to overcome so much. Although I wonder what secrets one might have also kept from the other. What a complex and thoroughly intriguing web this pairing doth present. Like John, I am doubtful they will find happiness any time soon.
Delete[Change of focus 315]
ReplyDeletePettinger, unable to present even the facsimile of pleasurable anticipation, ‘Impossible for Aleks to live with me while still a child –‘
She rolled her eyes, scorn infected with guilty sadness. ‘D’you imagine living here is any healthier? Haven’t you a mother who makes jam, will knit him jumpers and see he goes to Sunday School?’
So far from reality, Pettinger’s fury escalated, matching gas-flared celebrations at the start of a rugby match. ‘My mother? Allegedly an eldritch daughter, murdered by the brother who fathered me? She went mad and died. Sounds like you’ve been learning English from Enid Blyton.’
Did I read this correctly? Pettinger is the product of an incestuous relationship? Is this a new revelation or has it been brought to light before and I just missed it? So many questions here. You have taken me down a totally different path this time, Sandra. What an incredible reveal.
DeleteThat was the truth according to Raptor (episode 29) who claimed to have been his father. The truth of that never confirmed 100%. Episode 99 Pettinger fleetingly refers to an Anglo-Saxon inheritance as told him by another mother but I think he was confused on this occasion, by Charity Cherrystone.
DeleteI do so wish I held the strings of my serialization in such an orderly fashion as you do yours, Sandra. I fear I meander all over the place!
DeleteEach of my serials has one main character around whom things happen - it's a LOT harder trying to keep control of the cast of thousands you so admirably orchestrate.
DeleteI love the texture and weave of this.
DeletePettinger, another guy who could use a huge dose of happiness. What a compelling character he is... so well done. I must say also, I enjoyed your conversation with Patricia.
DeletePettinger is doomed to walk the dark side - and he does!
DeleteAh...my fascinating Pettinger. Will I ever know everything about you there is to know? I doubt it and that only serves to draw me in even more.
DeleteThis is NOT an entry but something of a personal tribute.
ReplyDeleteI know we shouldn't attribute human characteristics to machines and the like or form any type of emotional attachment, but I found the "death" of Mars Rover "Opportunity" incredibly sad. Particularly since its last message to Earth was: "My battery is low and it's getting dark."
I thought it was quite sad as well. I think it's natural that we try to connect with everything. We have a little Vector robot, by Anki, on our kitchen counter, and I admit it makes me happy when he putters around and chirps at us. They did a really good job making his eyes emotive.
Deletesome day a brilliant SF writer will take that last message and turn it into something we will all recognise and remember, Patricia and yes, I am with you all the way on this one. I mourn the loss of any machine we have dispatched to the far reaches of the known universe, heading ever onward past unknown unnamed planets and stars... one day... one day we will be out there.
DeleteWow, what an honour to be included in the aforementioned list of runners. I can tell you had a difficult job with this one, Sandra. Anyway, many congratulations to Zaiure...last week's shining star amid a sky of brilliant twinklers!
ReplyDeleteThanks Patricia! I loved your story. :)
DeleteThank you so much, I'm honored! There were so many good pieces last week.
ReplyDeleteAvant-Couriers
ReplyDeleteWe are a close knit group. Totally unalike in appearance but nonetheless facsimiles of each other in many ways. We're not liked. We're not welcome.
We cohabit with impending catastrophe and cannot be stopped.
Our horses are the fastest in Christendom and we are expert equestrians.
That's how we roll.
Ooh - could this wonderfully-titled piece be the beginning of a new series? "We cohabit with impending catastrophe and cannot be stopped" a marvellous line.
DeleteCatastrophe on a fast horse, that smells delicious. Nicely done.
Delete100% agree with Sandra and John here, this could be something really good.
DeleteThat would be a great description of a medieval order of crusading knights.
DeleteAn effective recruitment poster. very well placed and use of the prompts.
Strange Voodoo
ReplyDeleteMother practiced a strange kind of voodoo, fashioning dolls out of wool, rolling them in wet clay. If anyone upset me, she’d fashion the clay into a facsimile of their image, then bake the doll in the oven.
It gave me a sense of sadistic satisfaction to watch her latest victim jump and squeal as she pricked their doll with a pin
As I grew older and rebellious, we stopped seeing eye to eye. When she locked me in my room, I sat seething, clicking my pilfered needles. She would rue the day she taught me to knit.
Yes, I think you hit a home run here. All the good elements are there!
DeleteHow very unsettling, in an extremely clever way - leave the reader interpreting for the worst.
DeleteEnticing and enjoyable. This brings up a question: what would happen if two voodoo people started warring with each other?
Deletelike this, conjures many images, none of them good...
DeleteOh my word. This belongs in the "Twilight Zone" anthology of stories or perhaps the more modern "Black Mirror" version. Either way, this comes with an atmosphere that for me, conjures swamps beyond the window and the music of mysterious drums.
DeleteDavid, an excellent story. I like John and Patricia's comments.
DeleteLoved the image of 'clicking my pilfered needles'
DeleteMother has only herself to blame for the fate that awaits her. A tight, well-written tale, David. Nicely done!
ReplyDeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Fifty One) - "Through The (Twisted) Looking-Glass"
ReplyDeleteThough far from facsimiles of each other, the FunHouse and HorrorHouse (both owned and operated by pint-sized defrocked parish priest, Ambrose Oxenford) shared a common peculiarity...obscure pathways that converged like crossed knitting needles at the one-of-a-kind floor-to-ceiling distortion in the center of the Hall of Mirrors.
This dual-sided anomaly, only reachable via one of the suspect thoroughfares, could be utilized to pass from Fun to Horror (and vice versa) without need for additional admission costs. Indeed, the rolling, rippling, reflective surface invited visitors to do that very thing.
Once the choice had been made, however, there was no going back.
---------------------------------------------------------
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: Ambrose Oxenford together with his his FunHouse, HorrorHouse and Hall of Mirrors have all featured in previous episodes.
A taste of things to come? Your stories, Patricia, make mine feel like fortune cookie slips. But I do enjoy them so.
DeleteRegardless of not being able to go back, the trip, for some, might be worth it. Very interesting, Patricia.
DeleteKursaal rocks...
Deleteintriguing, this crossing of pathways at significant points, leading to - methinks insanity on the part of anyone crazy enough to do it!
DeleteNot sure what happened to my earlier comment, but I found this unsettling in the extreme.
DeleteOne persons fun is another horror. Another well written story Patricia.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 46
ReplyDeleteIn a draping facsimile of flimsy gauze, woolly clouds knitted together and rolled across the moon.
Thoughtfully, Nigel watched them drift, ‘ow many soldiers are yu talking about Sarg?’
The Varks an’ Pangolins ain’t soldiers Nige, but twenty good SAS soldiers.
‘An’ fer the record Sarg… who’s in charge of this fecking army?’
Sarg chuckled … It’s about time you flexed yer leadership muscles Nige,’ she winked at Tosca, ‘an’ I fink Tosca ere‘d make a darn good back up and camouflage expert. Aubrey an’ Clancy don’t know shit, so wot you say goes, ok
Tosca’s dark eyes glittered.
Oooh, sweet mayhem awaits, methinks
DeleteI'm once again impressed and astonished at how vividly I visualise this wonderful series. As ever, your precise choice of verbs massively contributes.
DeleteA brilliantly constructed first sentence pulls us eagerly into yet another engrossing entry, Terrie.
DeleteAnd to think... this all started when 'armadillo' came up as a prompt word. You've done well with this, Terrie. So enjoyable.
DeleteThis is left wide open for Tosca's next moves... which are eagerly awaited, for sure!
DeleteThat first sentence must stand out as one of the most vividly descriptive passages in the history of The Prediction. It's amazing how you can weave such whimsical phrasing and then plunge us into the bold world of our beloved 'dillos and have the two so perfectly mesh together. Nicely done, as always. I believe most of us are running out of suitable words to express appreciation at this series.
DeleteI do hope you've saved all of these stories and are considering putting them together, adding more and looking to publish it. With such deserved praise already mentioned, little I can add except my thanks for creating this series.
DeleteC A N’ T L I V E W I T H ‘E M
ReplyDeleteWith a bit more skin added to her cheek, she was finished. Not a “real” woman, but an amazing facsimile thereof, if I do say so myself. Her face and hips, breasts and… lady bits, all knit from things found around the house, as one does. But, if one is not above picking a few real ladies from amongst the throngs for, supplies, well then, creation of facsimiles is not that difficult, what? After all, my roll is that they will never suffer the ravages of time; never feel the pains of growing old. And, divorce is much easier, thankfully…
Full-on nastiness here Dave, leaving me peeking through my fingers, horrified.
DeleteThank you Sandra! I was looking for a reaction like that
DeleteThe nonchalant musings of a psychopath; really well done, Dave.
DeleteThe wickedness an evil mind can devise. I loved the way you dropped in the "real ladies." That hit like an exploding bomb. Well done, Dave!
Deleteserious nastiness going on here, Dave!
DeleteThe creative mind can so often take a twisted path...as so admirably depicted here. What is that old saying...something about a fine line between genius and madness? Variations on Frankenstein will never grow old. I love the delicate description of "lady bits." Reminded me somewhat of Monty Python's "naughty bits."
DeleteI almost wanted to have fava beans and chianti after reading your story Dave. Reading the comments make sure that I notice and pick up on the entire story, so I don't miss anything. A wonderful story.
DeleteThank you all so much for your comments. They make my day!
DeleteTOMORROW?
ReplyDeleteHe loved watching himself, and I, disgusted, stared forlornly as he stuffed himself while sitting naked before a full-length mirror. This bloated facsimile of the man I once admired – now a 520-pound butterball – ate incessantly, pausing only to answer nature’s calls.
His enormous buttocks spilled over his chair like tethered blimps, rolls of fat encircled his gut like inflated inner tubes, and his brow had knitted into a series of grossly plump folds.
Again I told myself that this unbridled gluttony had to stop!
“Uh… tomorrow,” I said aloud, carefully shifting in my chair to grab another slice of pizza.
I feel like this is talking directly to me! Very well constructed!
DeleteOh, superb twist, following a brilliantly description.
Deletetethered blimps... perfect. A really great transition from delusion to reality.
Deletethe imagery is scarily vivid...
DeleteYe Gods, the imagery of this piece was horrific and totally inspired. I'm with John on the "tethered blimps" reference. Could there be anything more easy to picture? Lovely little twist ending to boot.
DeleteI felt the sadness of an addiction they didn't know they had or could control. It might even be an internal argument of the person. A well written story J.D.
DeleteSquatter’s Rites 18
ReplyDelete“Mr. Minor, can you explain why the house makes living easier.”
“Our world is a blurry negative facsimile of yours. I use energy for you to see me, not so there. When life throws you undead a punch, you roll with it. That punch passes through us, causing pain, Mr. Cheveyo.”
“The house gives you a bettor quality of life?”
“Yes, I would smoke my pipe by the fireplace while Constance knitted something.”
“My condolences on her passing. Do you want any money or valuables from the estate?”
“Nope, just the house and it being kept in good shape.”
It's interesting Minor feels pain when a punch passes through him. You do weave a good conversation.
DeleteAgain, your ability with dialogue shines through. Nice use of the prompt words.
DeleteGood, crisp dialog is always a pleasure to read, Jeffrey, and you provide another great example.
DeleteI can't decided who to root for!
DeleteUnexpected Opportunity 8
ReplyDeleteJack looked at the future. From behind a shield it beckoned and taunted him.
“Knit one, purl one. Grandma always said.”
“Director, what do you mean?”
“What are some of the ideas you’ve had, General?”
“Remove enough dirt from around it and let it roll down the hill. That might break something and lower the field.”
“Why?”
“It’s a facsimile of a hamster ball.”
For an uncouth barbarian, that’s an interesting idea.
Jack looked around. He saw leaves tumbling through the shield as a snake slithered passed it as well.
Why not
Jack stepped through the shield.
One small step for Jack...
DeleteCan't wait to see what loiters on the other side.
DeleteUnravelled
ReplyDeleteShe sits and knits.
Click. Click.
Booties. Matinée jackets. Bonnets.
Click. Click.
Dissonant croonings roll from her tongue.
Tra-la-la.
Tuneless trilling tremolos.
Tra-la-la.
Lullaby facsimiles that no babe will ever hear.
Tra-la-la.
Tiny garments that no babe will ever wear.
Click. Click.
But still, she sits and knits.
Click. Click.
there's a sense of despair and bleak coldness about this which is - terrifying.
DeleteSomeone else I'd give a very wide berth!
DeleteThis could be just an older lady with no children or grand children. It could also be a bit more sinister. I do so hope it's a mohair suit, to go with the electric boots.
DeleteThis is so deceptively intricate on so many levels Patricia. It seemed so simple on the first read, but oh so cleverly constructed I've come back to it again and again. Haunting imagery, disjointed rhythm ,created by quick repetition. My favourite entry this week.
DeleteThis is phenomenal, Patricia. I about fell off my chair at the first 'tra-la-la.' A truly fine piece of writing.
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 47
ReplyDeleteArmi heard the fearful roar as it rolled out of Fat Franks and echoed into the shrubbery leading up the hill where the mad lizard skittered through the undergrowth.
In reply, Moloch gave a stilted facsimile bellow and continued running with drunken determination and without regard for stealth, or gerbil snares, into the surrounding bushes.
The sounds of pursuit followed and although Armi was confident Atlas would see the obvious tracks he began peeling off bits of the knitted, pink, feather boa and poking them through a gap in the mat as additional proof of direction .
I am no longer amazed at your crisp, vivid use of language, Terrie, as you never fail to create an amazing entry.
DeleteWhat a wonderfully imaginative use pf a pink feathered boa!
DeleteI adore Moloch's sense of total abandonment. And like Sandra, so admire the creative use of pink feather boa pieces, so much more effective than the customary breadcrumbs, I'm sure. Love it when there's a double dose of 'dillos in one week!
DeleteBe careful, submitting two very good stories gets us addicts hooked on them. That's if we already aren't.
DeleteWouldn't it have been great if Moloch got caught in a gerbil trap? It's little tidbits like these that remind me of the size of these little creatures, which I find very entertaining.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 177 - Return To The Crossing Canteen
ReplyDeleteThe Crossing Canteen remained a somewhat authentic facsimile of how it had appeared when Violet locked the door for the last time and then disappeared through the rear exit. Baking items were stored near the oven: rolling pin, pastry slab, measuring cups and such. All neat and tidy.
However, a wicker basket on the floor beneath an empty bird cage seemed out of place. It held a squeaky mouse, some catnip balls, a toy made from pipe cleaners and several skeins of tangled knitting yarn in assorted colours.
The comfy plush lining of the basket was covered with orange fur.
---------------------------------------------------------
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.
----------------------------------------------------------
oh oh oh, where is he?
DeleteYou're trying to make me believe the canary killed the cat??!!
DeleteHmmm....interesting concept, Sandra.
DeleteSomething wicked is definitely afoot here, Patricia. But what? Very well done!
DeleteMaybe the canary was related to Cock Robin and got revenge. I do love a mystery.
DeleteIt was pleasant to read of Marmalade's little basket, but the basket being out of place and the empty birdcage is disconcerting.
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (35)
ReplyDeleteWe’re on a roll, tiles put on the new shelf, furniture displayed, almost a facsimile of a posh shop somehow knitted together by enthusiasm, determination and sheer joy at working in our favourite place. Customers and family comment on the new look, how much cleaner and tidier it is, how much room there is… what more could we ask, other than they spend a fortune when they come in, rather than nothing… Loads of browsers, no buyers. This business is oddly cyclical, we go with the flow and always hope for buyers tomorrow and browsers pushed to next week…
What a wonderful opening sentence, Antonia - one to wallow in with 100% enjoyment. A shame about the non-spenders.
DeleteI'm more than optimistic that those browsers will turn into buyers very soon. Perhaps they have simply briefly returned home to gather more funds with which to purchase your fantabulous (is that a word?) pieces. Authentic word or not, fantabulous is a perfect description of this wonderful serialization.
DeleteSomeone probably said at one time: when you create more room, you quickly run out of room again. Beware of this pitfall. I loved your last sentence.
DeleteThe Mad Italian 94
ReplyDeletePolitics are ever changing, ever interesting, ever demanding of each person to work out what’s going on. We now have MPs rolling from one party to – what? A facsimile of what they left or something new? Can something be knitted together from so many rifts? Can these people hold the faith of their constituents long enough to make a difference to the political scene? Last week I said ‘nothing seems to move’ – and now there is movement but whether it is good or not we will have to wait and see. I have deep reservations.
I would believe in Leonardo's deep reservations before I'd believe anything a government has to offer. He has the benefit of insight and the perfect sense of what really goes down.
DeletePolitics is like the weather. If you don't like it, wait ten minutes for it to change.
DeleteI don't hear much about Brexit lately in the states. Likely because of the lack of movement.
DeleteFrom what I know, you have every right for your reservations, Antonia. How well you state your position.
ReplyDeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #168
ReplyDeleteThe World Burns
“Natasha, you have to fall! The smoke is rolling over us!”
Natasha dove under the smoke into a facsimile of a clearing, newly created of ash and embers.
“I still can’t see. Oh no! Are there monsters over there? Oh I wish I had my knitting!”
“It’s alright, Elle, those are the towers, they’re safe-stone.”
“Why aren’t we in there yet?! Oh dear!”
“We have to wait for the fire to clear a path.”
“Oh I don’t like this!”