Friday, 29 March 2019

Your wish is (sometimes) my command


Next week I invite you all to nominate your personal winner from the week’s postings from the prompts below.
I could justifiably claim it revenge for the difficulty you put me to each successive week – this week no exception! – but in truth I shall be away from home next Friday celebrating an anniversary, so will schedule only words.

This week another one of vacillation, trying to decide whether that one is marginally the most appealing, in ways which have no rules but are based on mere (and constantly variable) gut reaction. And it is the truth (and no lessening of prime position for the winner) that given an hour either way, had the sun gone behind a cloud or the phone rung, another might have taken its place . What I can say, in this particular hour, the currently most impactful tale of the week is Patricia’s ‘Party of Four. John’s ‘Once a scoundrel, always a scoundrel’ came close and Terrie’s haiku – first one ever on the Prediction? – a third delight.

Words for next week: syrup scrap wrench
Entries by midnight (GMT) Thursday 4th April, words posted Friday 5th

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.

130 comments:

  1. Sandra, my congratulations on your anniversary. I hope that it's a happy and enjoyable time, only to be exceeded by those to follow.

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    1. I echo Jeffrey’s wishes for a well-celebrated anniversary next Friday Sandra. Have a wonderfully memorable time.

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    2. Congratulations Patricia John and Terrie. All excellent works

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  2. Patricia, well deserved kudos for your winning story and also to John and Terrie for your very exceptional offerings.

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    1. Well written Patricia, a cleverly constructed winning entry gaining you top spot. Your consistently multiple and creative weekly offerings are a pleasure to read, as are Johns. I always feel honoured when I gain a mention alongside the talent of authors contributing to this brilliant site.

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    2. I'm late with congratulations and comments, it's been a rough migraine week, sorry! Congrats Patricia, you never fail to entertain us. John, Terrie, worthy runners up. Now to go give some feedback.

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    3. Congrats Patricia! And yay for John and Terrie. :)

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  3. Tainted Brew

    The brew master wanted so badly to throw his spanner wrench at Victoria Miller’s head. Who cared that they used corn syrup? A handful of scrappy Bud Light commercials did not a precedent make. Alternative products were more expensive, but his budget was to remain the same. What idiots.

    He looked around furtively and climbed the platform overlooking the churning vat of Commemorative Ale. Unzipping his fly, he added his secret ingredient. Then, dropping his drawers and squatting, he added another. He couldn’t wait for the afternoon tasting with the entire Miller family.

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    1. Jeffrey here.
      John, this made me laugh. Remembering the commercial( wich is no part of a lawsuit) and the secret ingredients that were added. Clever use of the prompts.

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    2. Yes, John witty use of the prompt words creating vivid and darkly humorous images that just confirm for me why I prefer consumables to be homemade whenever possible.

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    3. jdeegan536@yahoo.com31 March 2019 at 21:31

      Very clever, John, and great use of the prompts. This reminded me of when I worked for Sealtest Dairies. Part of my job was to pull the dead rats from the cottage cheese vats.

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    4. Witty and wicked, and perfectly titled.

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    5. Wicked. Wicked. And wicked indeed, John. This bears the unique stamp of your dark and witty humour. Your style is unmistakable. I would say what strong images, but I prefer not to dwell!

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    6. clever writing, and everything (yuk) vividly described!

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    7. Gross and humorous! I sometimes worry about the potential secret ingredients in things I eat. I loved your title choice too. :)

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  4. jdeegan536@yahoo.com29 March 2019 at 15:47

    Patricia's entry was an excellent choice. Congrats to her! John and Terrie's entries certainly deserve praise!

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  5. What an honour to be counted among such talented writers and amazing stories. Thank you, Sandra. And...YAY...this week is People's Choice!!! To quote the old group known as Scaffold: "Is everybody ready? You bet your life we are!"

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  6. Anything but Merry Men [Threshold 242]

    As Raven fell, leg failing to support him so – intending protection – did I, landing atop his broken arm.
    Lolita’s arms lacked strength to wrench the bowstring back enough to propel the arrow with sufficient speed. It looped rather than flew, its downward trajectory pinning the voluminous shift I wore, now yellow-stained with the syrupy leakage from my burns, to the ground. Raven screamed involuntary beneath my weight. Sacrificing modesty I rolled off him, leaving a scrap of arrow-held cloth to flutter unintended truce.
    Howling rage crashed through undergrowth.
    A younger scream: Lolita.
    I looked skywards as the sun blotted out.

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    1. Very good descriptions, Sandra, which is a noticeable strength of your writing. Nice use of the prompts.

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    2. This serialization keeps me wanting more on a weekly basis . Enviable tight sentence structure moves the action seamlessly from moment to moment. I loved the image of the arrow looping rather than flying straight. The yellow stained, syrupy, leakage on the voluminous shift is a real stand out image for me, as is the final line. What a cliff-hanger Sandra.

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    3. jdeegan536@yahoo.com2 April 2019 at 19:13

      Should I write more, Sandra, I would echo Terrie's comments. This is SO well done!

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    4. Nothing like syrupy leakage from a burn to create a visual. I like the unintentional truce flag. Forgive my memory loss, but is Lolita her and Raven's child?

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    5. No, John (and no forgiveness needed) Lolita has just appeared on the scene. I don't exactly know from where; sort of hoped this episode might explain, but it didn't.

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    6. I really don't think I can add anything to what Terrie has already expressed so eloquently. As always this ends with a cliff-hanger that we wait, with tongue hanging out, to be resolved.

      (On another note, looks like I did post under the Google+ banner which has now apparently been pulled from under me. Still, seems I am still accepted via "Blogger," although I do miss my little avatar. Have to work on getting that back! To be honest, I didn't know I was connected to Blogger, but whatever works!)

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    7. tight writing and prompts buried in it, as usual, and as usual you present a sharply written piece with a cliff hanger ending, again.

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    8. I really loved the phrasing of the line 'leaving a scrap of arrow-held cloth to flutter unintended truce'. Beautiful description! And that cliff-hanger... what is blotting out the sun???

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  7. The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 54

    The syrupy sound of blood-swaddled, gurgling, curses echoed after Atlas as he loped away from the shattered encampment, but he was more concerned with his injured cargo.
    Although the big dillo could feel the scrappy rise and fall of shallow breathing against his back, Armi had not moved since Atlas had gathered him up. The more wrenching concern was the sticky trickle of what he knew was his friend’s blood seeping onto his own bony armour-plates.
    Leaving little sign, Atlas ran, with urgency, until he felt safe. It was dawn as he lowered Armi onto the derelict, library-burrow floor.

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    1. What a good opening line! The rest of this episode is pretty good. Also, good use of the prompts, Terrie.

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    2. Fingers crossed Arni will survive - what a friend he has in Atlas, and what joy it is to read your lovely use of language - 'blood-swaddled' an especial favourite

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    3. At last, Armi is a least in a safe place, so still perilous. Nicely done. What a hero Atlas is turning out to be.

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    4. Oh, here's hoping that Armi makes a full recovery. This comes with such an inspired use of the prompt words (which I am finding incredibly difficult to bring together in a cohesive weaving). A truly enviable combination of action, visuals and beauty of language. How DO you do it?

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    5. this story lives in your head all the time, I think, Terrie - how else do you produce such vivid images each week?

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    6. jdeegan536@yahoo.com4 April 2019 at 19:15

      You make Atlas's concern for his friend Armi so evident, Terrie. You have the reader pulling for Armi's recovery. As always, the way you make words flow so beautifully is amazing!

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    7. A lot of interesting, vivid phrasing - 'The syrupy sound of blood-swaddled, gurgling, curses echoed' and 'library-burrow floor'. I love any place with books, and a library-burrow sounds incredibly fascinating to me. :)

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  8. Unexpected Opportunity-11

    “I wish I could live longer.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t want to die.”
    “Your syrupy request has a wrench in it and we have scrapped your offer.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “We’re not allowed to. You’ll live the normal seventy-five to eighty planetary revolutions around your sun. Please follow the lighted path out of our ship. We’ve completed repairs and our presence has caused enough problems.”
    I left their ship and walked down the ramp when I realized what they had said;
    I’ll live the normal 75-80 years for human!
    I leaped up and clicked my heals with a big smile.

    NOTE: This story in this abridged and modified for the prompts form, of the first story of mine to ever be published, back in 2015. I hope it’s been enjoyable to read as it was for me to present it to you.

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    1. Always a pleasure to read your work, Jeffrey. Your ability using dialogue to move your story along is brilliant. It’s a skill I struggle with all the time but you have nailed it

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    2. jdeegan536@yahoo.com2 April 2019 at 19:08

      Another marvelous use of dialog, Jeffrey, and I enjoyed the way you included the three prompts in a single sentence. Nicely done!

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    3. The aliens are surprisingly nice. I hope if it ever happens, we get these aliens.

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    4. The joy expressed at the final revelation of this tale is contagious. I do believe it's one of your best, Jeffrey. Not surprised it was published. Great initial venture into the literary world of the published word.

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    5. is it 4 years back since you were published? Seems much longer than that. Nice piece, this!

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    6. I am very intrigued by his contact with the aliens, and enjoyed the dialogue. I also was impressed you managed to get all 3 words in one sentence.

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    7. Jeffrey here. I want to extend my thanks for all who follwed this story. Your comments were very much appropriated and flattering, so thank you so much for you time. Now, it’s back to poetry writing for another site and what to write for Prediction.

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  9. jdeegan536@yahoo.com30 March 2019 at 17:31

    SIGNS II

    YOU WERE WARNED: those luminescent words launched a discomfiting tremor along my nerves and turned my words, “A haunted house? Really?” into a feeble, syrupy utterance. My flashlight toured the room and revealed a Hollywood-staged setting: galaxies of cobwebs; moonlight seeping through grime-coated windows; clusters of mold devouring the ceiling.

    Undeterred, I was easing toward a shadowy staircase when a low, raspy growl smothered the silence. That was sign enough for me to scrap plans for further exploration.

    I staggered toward the nearest window but froze as my guts wrenched into a knot. The word DON’T glowed on the window.

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    1. What a problem he has now. Low raspy growl was a good line.

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    2. With wonderful, stand out, imagery, my favourite line has to be galaxies of cobwebs ;moonlight seeping through grime-coated windows ;clusters of mold devouring the ceiling - it just rolls off the tongue like syrup. Well-incorporated prompt words also added weight to your eerie and atmospheric story . Anticipating the next instalment.

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    3. Yes, the 'galaxies of cobwebs' delighted me, even as I read this through my fingers.

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    4. Just when it seemed he'd do the smart thing and leave... Nice tension building.

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    5. Magnificent continuation. I was so hoping there would be more. There's those signs again. I can still hear that creepy music beginning very softly and then gradually becoming louder...

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    6. definitely hear the creepy music and wondering why he didn't get out of there when he could...

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    7. Terrie called out all my favorite lines. I loved the imagery in this piece and how you described his words as 'syrupy'.

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  10. I ‘V E * G O T * A * C R U S H

    Fat Bob thoughtfully shifted the soggy cheroot in his grubby, liquid mouth as he worked the controls of the hydraulic “car-squasher” , the pride and joy of his scrap-yard kingdom. Under the clear Texas sky, he was king of all he surveyed, which, unfortunately, now included a spreading puddle of syrupy goo escaping the trunk of the vehicle he had been happily smashing. He cursed the vagrants and gang-bangers, because he knew all fluids had been removed before staring the crush. He wrenched his cell from a greasy coverall pocket and dialed 9-1-1. Third time this year. Shit.

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    1. I do so look forward to your weekly submissions Dave . You choose such inventive titles for each piece I’m never sure what the story line is going to evolve into. This week my initial thought was loves young dream kind of ‘crush’ but I should have known better. The unflattering description of grubby Fat Bob at work soon put paid to that.
      Well woven prompt words, a great setting and something, or someone, mangled in a ‘car-squasher’ … a good opening hook for a longer story.

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    2. Thank you Terrie!It makes me feel very good to know that my little contributions make you all happy.

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    3. Admiring, Dave, rather than 'happy' exactly. It takes skill to depict such visceral nastiness. Well done.

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    4. Greasy, grubby, soggy, liquid... that Fat Bob is something else. I can see him sitting high in his car crusher as plain as day.

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    5. There is something very Stephen King-ish about this. Choosing a favourite is going to be so incredibly difficult. What a character you have created in Fat Bob. Love to hear more of his scrap-yard kingdom. There is the potential here for an entire wealth of stories.

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    6. jdeegan536@yahoo.com3 April 2019 at 18:35

      Fat Bob might be doing the community a service without realizing it. Good thing he enjoys his work. Well done, Dave!

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    7. nicely done, sympathies to Fat Bob, calling 911 brings a stack of people and paperwork... and it's his third time that year... give the man a medal for endurance!

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    8. That first line about Bob is perfection. I loved his description! I also got a Stephen King vibe, like Patricia! :)

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  11. I don't need much imagination to know the color of that goo. Soggy cheroot in his grubby liquid mouth was a great description.

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    1. Thanks, Jeffery. Communication is my life!

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  12. Shrouding Starlight

    Wrenched and torn by gritty solar wind, worlds crash
    and roll against the shadowy crook of chaos rising.
    Scraps of light dance and spark, and burst,
    against the deep bowl of unending space.
    And there, like syrup, floating and folding and flowing,
    perpetual, mist curls slowly, and with purpose.
    It coils against the dark; cocooning stray stars,
    that shoot within the kiss and curve of its embrace.

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    1. Beautiful. A portrait of the mind.

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    2. Holst's 'Planet Suite' came to mind reading this - needs a big screen to do justice to the imagery thus produced.

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    3. Terrie, your're a wordsmith. No wonder you write such damn good tales.

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    4. I can only echo what has already been said. Not easy to pick a favourite line/phrase since they are all beautifully composed, but I think "cocooning stray stars" has to be near the top for me.

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    5. surreal images that make sense when you re-read, which you should.

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    6. This is gorgeous. I would buy a book filled with this. :)

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  13. A poem with some vivid imagery, soft light whispers for the mind. The line I liked most was "It coils against the dark; cocooning stray stars."

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  14. jdeegan536@yahoo.com31 March 2019 at 00:34

    Such a masterful array of powerful images, Terrie! You do have a way with words.

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  15. Alis Volat Propriis

    Medicating syrups, pills and injections kept her alive now. The tiniest scrap of real food meant nausea. Nothing brought joy. She had endured beyond her time.

    The photograph of herself and two brothers when young was heart-wrenching. When did they die? Who went first? She couldn't recall. But the shadow which fell across the counterpane remained vital in her memory. He was standing upon the window ledge, hand outstretched.

    "Remember the way?"

    "Of course!"

    "Then why wait?"

    "What about...?"

    "Oh, you don't need that any more!"

    She spread her arms.

    "Second star on the right and straight on 'til morning."

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    1. Another twist or rather a sequel. Beautifully done and I will always want mine.

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    2. What a beautiful way for the story to end. Or does it?

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    3. Lots of cleverness here. The Latin title and the indication that it might be an aged Wendy from Peter Pan is really cool.

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    4. My total lack of Latin, and piss-poor recall of long-ago read tales means this is doubly intriguing, and no less enjoyable for it.

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    5. really like this, conjures images beyond the prompts.

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    6. A powerful story. There was something about the line 'She had endured beyond her time.' that just socked me in the gut. :)

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  16. jdeegan536@yahoo.com31 March 2019 at 19:03

    Beautiful, Patricia... nothing more need be said.

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  17. Kursaal (Episode One Hundred Fifty Seven) - "Tasteful Matters"

    Ludmilla Bartók wrenched Chief Constable Twittering's interest away from the Imaginarium with promises of high tea at the First Aid Station. The menu featured treacle tarts and a jug of Ovaltine. Two of Twittering's favourite delectables.

    Total rubbish as a baker, Ludmilla scrapped her own attempts at making shortcrust pastry and instead, enlisted the services of Charlotte Fitzroy (owner of Lottie's Larder) who had a delicate hand with the rolling pin and used only prime ingredients like Tate & Lyle's Golden Syrup.

    The result was a toothsome treat, whose sweetness would certainly disguise any potentially unpleasant aftertaste.

    ---------------------------------------------------------
    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: Ludmilla Bartók (and her First Aid Station), Chief Constable Twittering, Charlotte Fitzroy, Lottie's Larder and the Imaginarium have all featured in previous episodes.

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    1. You beat me to Lyle's Golden Syrup - and more skilfully than I'd so far conjured up. There are days I yearn for treacle tart!

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    2. I wonder what taste the sugary treat disguised? Or don't I want to know? Very enjoyable and so easy to read.

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    3. people up to no good again, disguising it with syrup, too., how crafty of them!

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    4. Pastry can be quite difficult! I loved the last line, with that little hint at the unpleasant surprise to come.

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  18. Ovaltine, I do so like the Constable's taste. Really enjoyed your use of the prompts in this episode.

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  19. [Change of focus 322]

    Clang of metal door on breeze-block, the syrup-insincerity of the Vice DI’s ‘Good afternoon’ wrenched Pettinger’s thoughts from rural slurry tank to Khakbethian interview room. From scrubbed-up scrap of a girl whose tattoo proclaimed her family and whose sketchbook was a damning album; undeniable evidence of abuse. From Simeon the pathologist’s fascinated gaze at the identical tattoo on Pettinger’s buttocks to the scornful sneer of a desert-warfare tank of a woman who, Pettinger guessed would choose to walk thirty miles across burning sand to avoid view of such.
    Whose aim today, rather than investigate Tabitha’s murder, was to deep-fry him.

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    1. Yes, Pettinger does seem to be dangling over the deep fryer. As Jeffrey said, this piece really brings the seriousness of the evidence to the forefront.

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    2. Nicely woven reminders of images that have gone before. I must admit to fearing just a little for the fate of Pettinger, but my belief in his abilities far outweigh any true danger. I had to do a double-take at "322." Has it really been that many episodes?

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    3. good one, Sandra, lots of nasties and nasty implications, always a good thing to make people want to read on.

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    4. I really loved the imagery of 'From scrubbed-up scrap of a girl whose tattoo proclaimed her family and whose sketchbook was a damning album' (that got my imagination going!) and 'a desert-warfare tank of a woman'.

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  20. Very good narration and the descriptions are soft but the seriousness of the situation is brought to the fore. A very well written episode, Sandra.

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  21. On a profile picture note, I can't seem to track down what I was originally using, so this will have to suffice for the time being. At least it's a bit more visually pleasing that an orange "B".

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    1. Yay. Found it and figured it out. Perhaps I'm not so dim as I think I am after all!

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  22. LulaBelle's Young'Un

    LulaBelle's neverending caterwauling made Paw's teeth ache, much like the thick syrup Maw served with Sunday flapjacks. See, LulaBelle wanted a young'un but no way she'd get one the regular way. Withered arm. Crooked legs. Cross-eyed. Hook nose. What fella'd take a shine to that?

    Bit of a wrench for old Maw and Paw to make it across the bayou, but they managed. Worth it to see LulaBelle's drooling expression when they returned with the little scrap of a thing wrapped in a baby blue blanket.

    Maybe LulaBelle would stop caterwauling now.

    Paw sure hoped so.

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    1. There is a matter-of-fact logic to this, against an uneasy background, which so nearly convinces that it is frightening. As is the thought of the future for that 'little scrap.' The range of your imaginings never fails to impress.

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    2. Hell, if you want a young'un, just go get one. They're all over the place. This particular child though, is in for a rocky upbringing.

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    3. jdeegan536@yahoo.com4 April 2019 at 19:02

      I suspect that LuluBelle will not be the best of mothers. Her folks might yet regret their perilous trip across the bayou. You created a shockingly clear picture of LulluBelle, Patricia.

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    4. of all your entries this week, I like this the best, Patricia, the cold matter-of-fact voice telling the story and the implications for the child... scary thoughts.

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    5. Somehow even more chilling with how matter-of-fact it was. The first line immediately sucked me into their world with the reference to Maw's syrup.

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    6. Jeffrey here, always be careful of what you wish for. Lovely descriptions and using caterwauling twice was a great idea.

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  23. Scaris

    Scaris slithered down the dimly lit hall, a confusing hash of syrupy sweetness and promised danger. Her bruised eyes flicked towards me as she passed, and I pasted on a smile to hide the shiver dancing spider-quick down my spine.

    Pausing, Scaris turned towards. She raised a wrench to her face, likely on her way to the engine room, and tapped it against her pierced lip.

    “Loooondon,” she said, rolling my name around inside her mouth. “Your term is up soon, yes?”

    “Yes,” I said. Just one more revolution on this scrap-heap.

    “I’ve a farewell gift for you. An adventuuuure.”

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    1. Well, Holly, you have a shiver dancing spider quick down my spine as well. That was a great line by the way. I'm really curious what kind of vessel they're on and where they're going. Scaris' speech pattern really adds to the intrigue.

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    2. As ever, writing to get high on - a "confusing hash of syrupy sweetness and promised danger" indeed. And loved the used of wrench.

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    3. I just noticed I dropped a word on accident, should be 'Pausing, Scaris turned towards me.' Which means I need to remove a word sooo... first sentence should be 'Scaris slithered down the dim hall...'. Sorry about that! I was in a rush this morning. :)

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    4. jdeegan536@yahoo.com4 April 2019 at 00:40

      Pretty good stuff for being in a rush, Holly. You have me wondering what the relationship was (is) between Scaris and London.

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    5. this is a good piece, bringing images through actions, tapping the wrench on a pierced lip without taking time out to tell us she has a pierced lip, the mark of good writing.

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    6. Thank you everyone! I always appreciate your comments. :)

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    7. Definite feel of a snake-like persona here. And as for "one more revolution on this scrap-heap, who hasn't identified with THAT at some time or another? Loved the sense of an epic adventure in the offing. There will be more, yes...?

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    8. Jeffrey here Holly. I’m at work. A wonderful story. Spider-quick and eyes that flick, truely exceptional word use and promot use.

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    9. Thank you! I may have to continue it...I'm intrigued! ;)

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  24. Cripplegate Junction/Part 183 - Postulations

    The wheeltapper tapped wheels with a hammer and tightened nuts with a wrench. Occasionally, he lubricated rivets with an oilcan. From his vantage point, Marmalade watched thick syrupy liquid leak from the nozzle to puddle on the platform.

    The cat's attention turned to Violet and her sister, Poppy, who was poking an agitated finger at her older sibling. It appeared a scrap would break out momentarily. Wouldn't be the first time!

    Marmalade left his perch and sauntered toward the Booking Office. Alice had emerged. He expected the little girl would have a tasty treat for him in her satchel.

    ---------------------------------------------------------
    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.
    ----------------------------------------------------------

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    1. Just another day at the Junction. Well told, Patricia.

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    2. A languid, optimistic Marmalade. Somehow, I think that'll last only so long as he wants it to.

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    3. Images of Marmalade sitting waiting patiently but resenting every moment of waiting... cats have such expressive body language and you've captured that here.

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    4. I loved seeing the events at the station through Marmalade's eyes.

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    5. Jeffrey here Patricia. Little that I can add except for the consistency of the episodes in this series

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  25. Stop the Week; I Want To Get Off (41)
    A shop of memories as people talk: today we were discussing syrup and jam sandwiches - for the sugar rush, though us kids didn’t know the term then. It was a wrench to come back into today’s world; we went on to discuss the sugar tax… Shaun is struggling with the bad back, not good as there is work ahead. A freezer needs collecting Saturday… no idea where it’s going. Might round up some brass for the scrap metal people. That will bring in extra money. Shaun’s full of ideas, if half of them work we’ll be fine. We’ll see…

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    1. I remember my mother's shock on hearing some of my friends had bread and treacle for tea.

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    2. Isn't that what grandparents are for? To get the gets hyped up on sugar and then send them home?

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    3. I loved the line 'It was a wrench to come back into today’s world'. Hopefully some of Shaun's ideas work out as he hopes. :)

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    4. "A shop of memories." I can't think of a better description. As always, these tales are a total delight. I've forgotten what this forum was like without them...and hope never to find out.

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    5. Jeffrey here. These wonderful slices of life are like Key Lime pie. Have you ever used Shaun’s comments in them? I wouldn’t mind enjoying his view. Just a thought. These are very relaxing and enjoyable vignettes, Antonia. Thankyou for sharing them.

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  26. The Mad Italian 100
    Surprises happen, it has no doubt been a wrench but the two ‘leaders’ are actually talking. Much will need to be scrapped if this deal is to be done in time, but if coated with enough syrup the gullible MPs will accept it and allow the country to move on. Those who hold out will be the losers, for the voters are tired of flim-flam and procrastination. They have had long enough. They should have all been removed, replaced, rendered redundant long before now. Perhaps this shake-up will do just that and the politics of this country become sane again.

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    1. These days it seems everything has to be coated in syrup to draw the eye of those making decisions. I'm constantly hoping sanity will return to the US.

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    2. I think voters have been disappointed one way or another since politics first came into being. I know you can't please all the people all the time, but at least a small percentage would be nice. Leonardo sounds somewhat optimistic here. I hope HE does not become disappointed.

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  27. Sounds promising. Maybe some members have been accessing this site and reading Leonardo's pieces.

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  28. jdeegan536@yahoo.com4 April 2019 at 18:52

    Sadly, Antonia, anywhere you look in the world today, sane politics is as rare as hens' teeth.

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  29. Should be interesting to see who comes out on top in the vote tomorrow!

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    1. Interesting indeed. I'm going to have to go back and read everything at least one more time. How Sandra does this on a weekly basis is beyond my comprehension. I only filled in for her for a couple of weeks and these decisions definitely take their toll. Although, that having been said, I do appreciate the occasional Peoples' Choice Awards.

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  30. Last week's words.

    The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #172
    At the Station


    And now I’m a poster-child. Don’t they realize I’ve not been a child in a century?
    I suppose this bodes well for the revolution. Wanted posters count as name recognition, right? Of course then you have to deal out more bruises. Oh well, that’s not difficult.
    There’s the train. To the mountains I go. I wonder if the prophets are still around.

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  31. This week's words, though a bit late.

    The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #173
    Lethal Trudging


    Off the train and into the snow. Those people are tapping for syrup. I wonder if they’ve got a scrap of toffee?
    North I go, through the snow to that princess’s castle.
    Oh dear. That car seems dead, the wheel’s been wrenched off. It’s empty, that’s a pity. I’d better continue on.
    The snow’s almost pretty, in a Jack Frost sort of way.

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