Friday 26 April 2019

Richness indeed


Not sure whether it was the chocolate (which, for the most part, I avoided, with considerable regret) or the extra holidays, but there was certainly something in the air that spawned a wealth of entries. Which, having revelled in them, it is now my task to attempt to rank in some sort of order. Terrie treated us to three episodes of armadillo activities plus a stand alone, John, the top-class delight of ‘The Mobster’s Daughter’, and Patricia a pair of inventivenesses in ‘Hobson’s Choice’ and ‘Oblivium’, but for me, the top rung this week went to David for the chill of  ‘In the Valley of the Callipygian Hills’. Thank you all for participation and comment.

Words for next week: blithe notch rainbow

Entries by midnight (GMT) Thursday 2nd May, words and winners posted Friday 3rd

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.

142 comments:

  1. Excellent choice Sandra and congratulations David. A very well written entry - striking and enjoyable reading.
    Thank you also for the mention Sandra .. I managed some productive writing last week during Easter break, but back to work now - so without the chocolate infusions and free time I wont manage quite so many entries.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Way to go, David. I had a feeling about the lush valley.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Family Time

    “Daddy, don’t look now, but Rainbow Man is here.”

    I tried not to shudder, reluctantly notching my mental scoreboard once again. “Honey, can’t you have him wait until after breakfast?” I held her tiny trembling hands and wiped gathering foam from her lips.

    “He won’t wait.” Her mocking smile alarmed me. “He’s mad.”

    “Blithe, you have to stop.” I turned her face to mine. “There is no Rainbow Man.”

    Her lips stretched tight on her bloodied teeth, her feverish eyes blinked rapidly. “You dare question my existence!”

    I slapped her hard on the face.

    “What’s for breakfast, Daddy?”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. now that is one twisted gory tale to start this week!

      Delete
    2. Good daddy into the prism and rainbow man out? Yes, and Sybil has nothing on this girl. Excellent story John.

      Delete
    3. A myriad of character switches here, each so nicely executed. I kind of like how the slap pulled Blithe back into a semblance of reality...for now anyway.

      Delete
    4. Thought I'd commented on this ... maybe not because it twisted my mind and sent it haring into dark corners, hands over ears. Insidious horror.

      Delete
    5. jdeegan536@yahoo.com1 May 2019 at 16:38

      Many horrors lurking in this tale, John. How cunningly you suggest them.

      Delete
    6. I immediately felt unease with that first sentence and the Rainbow Man. A chilling, horrible piece and the quick shift back to reality with that final line was so sad.

      Delete
  4. Pot of gold? [Threshold 247]

    With an apparently blithe disregard for propriety, Torc-man’s tugged and re-positioned my grubby shift – red and yellow bloodstains become rainbow with the addition of grass streaks and hitherto unnoticed blue paint blotches from the gig – stroking and smoothing it the length of my body.

    Raven not so sanguine but his ‘too old for you’ comment another notch in the grievance tally stick I occasionally carved for him, along with his mourning a long-dead Lolita, I was not of a mind to care.
    Not when presented with such a deliciously fit package as Torc-man promised.
    ‘He touched my cheek. ‘Your name?’

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. this instalment is as smooth as a rainbow would be, if I knew how to touch it, but carries its usual hint of Things to Come.

      Jeffrey, I'd like to know what's wrong with the words, too! Remember I created a novel from the prompt words myopic chamber and escape. I thought they were tricky! These are good, to my eyes anyway.

      Delete
    2. Maybe she'll, after all this time, tell Torc-man her name. I guess you have to be a deliciously fit package to get it out of her. One things for sure, though; we have to get this girl some new clothes. This rainbow shift has seen better days. Very well done, Sandra.

      Delete
    3. That's two more than excellent stories and yes, I'm intimidated. Wonderful how you wove rainbow into the story and how you continued so smoothly from last weeks story.

      Delete
    4. Do we get to know her name at last? Will all be revealed in the upcoming episode? I somehow get the feeling the mystery yet lingers.

      Delete
    5. The visual description of her shift, 'red and yellow bloodstains become rainbow with the addition of grass streaks and hitherto unnoticed blue paint blotches', was such a powerful image.

      Delete
  5. Jeffrey here. Dave great kudos on a great story and the top spot. Congrats to Patricia, John, and Terrie for their honorable mention.

    Not the best words this week but gats what makes this such a challenge.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm curious, Jeffrey - what makes the prompt words 'not the best'?

      Delete
    2. To be honest, I find all three of them to be quite inspirational. I already have half a dozen scenarios buzzing around...didn't say they were any good, just that they have presented themselves. Interesting, Jeffrey, that you find these to be more of a challenge than "callipygian."

      On another note, congratulations to David on a magnificent tale. Like John, I had a kind of feeling about that one. Also, thanks to Sandra for placing me among the esteemed "honorable mentions" company that is John and Terrie.

      Delete
    3. Sandra, 'not the best' means easy to fit into the story/series I'm doing. As words go they're good words but fitting them into a military SF story will be difficult, not impossible.

      Delete
    4. Nice recovery, Jeffrey. I think my least favorite prompt word since I started here has been fuliginous. Petechial is a close second. Don't get me started on pugnacious. And then again, some of them have been downright delicious. It's amazing how we all come up with such unique ways to use them. Write on.

      Delete
    5. I aim to challenge, and although wary of offering a word so difficult it is perceived as impossible, in practice, with such a talented and experienced group as we have now, that rarely happens. In contrast, I have personally experienced, when the selection is bland, a sense of ennui which prevents any inspiration.
      That said, some weeks I do aim to tease.

      Delete
    6. I can definitely see your point on that, Jeffrey. I imagine "rainbow" might be the most difficult fit into a war story. Still, I believe you are more than up to the challenge and look forward to what you offer.

      Delete
    7. And challenge you have, Sandra. Many have been frustrating and yet some might say I've written my best. I will attest that others sure have. John, thanks for the complement and Patricia, thanks for putting the pressure on me.

      Delete
    8. Jeffrey here. See what I mean! Excellent stories to start, comments already in awe of several stories. Now, if the 1969 Mets can win the World Series, I should be able to write a similar story.

      Delete
  6. jdeegan536@yahoo.com26 April 2019 at 16:42

    Congratulations, David! You certainly deserved top prize last week.

    ReplyDelete
  7. [Change of focus 326]

    Pettinger struggled to keep his face straight as he sat through one of the most entertaining interrogations of his life.
    For every question the police put to him, Vladina, knowing he well understood, mistranslated; thus their, ‘Describe the circumstances of finding Tamara Pretty’s body’ became ‘Do you remember how many notches I cut into the tree we shagged beneath? The rainbows in the waterfall?’ and his, ‘Christ yes, me bollock-naked when your twin brother came along,’ became a blithe and sober-faced description of a maimed and stinking body.
    They took his copious tears as sadness. And eventually let him go.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pretty clever there, Sandra. Let's hope nobody there secretly knows English. I think P. has dodged yet another bullet, or soon will. Nicely done.

      Delete
    2. This was very funny, I easily saw the scene. Though I never knew Pettinger had a twin brother. For me this is better than your other.

      Delete
    3. The twin brother has mistakenly been attributed to Vladlina, but I confess it shouldn't be - I was misremembering Goren and Gunita. I apologies for how close 'Vladlina' is to Valdeta. mother of Aleks. There's small chance of this appearing anywhere in its entirety because continuity is crap.

      Delete
    4. Sneaky, sneaky. And Pettinger wrangles his way out of yet another sticky situation. I have to be honest...I never doubted for a moment. Can't wait to see what he and Vladina will get up to next. Nothing too indiscreet I trust.

      Delete
    5. A hilarious discussion. Indeed it would be impossible to keep a straight face! 'became a blithe and sober-faced description of a maimed and stinking body' is quite a memorable line.

      Delete
  8. Seven For A Secret...

    Sunday's child, according to the rhyme, is bonny, blithe, merry and gay. Their daydreams filled with sparkles, lollipops, rainbows and unicorns. Such innocent little sweethearts!

    I bought a small notebook yesterday. It has three notches. One for the date, one for the time and one for the location. I made my first entry this morning.

    One down, six to go.


    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Unicorns are often depicted as sweet and innocent, but I don't agree. Vlad the Impaler would have had one if he could have.

      I researched the poem a bit (thank you Wikipedia), as I haven't heard it in a while. For such an innocent few lines, there certainly has been a lot written about it. Lots of pent up menace in your tale, Patricia.

      Delete
    2. Hopefully he'll be stopped by Friday! Yet another of your clever takes on rhymes and prompts - I much enjoyed this.
      As I did John's reference to Vlad.

      Delete
    3. Maybe it's a she? Small package excellent story and another unique and good use of the prompts.

      Delete
    4. A sinister piece, made even more horrible by the innocence of the beginning.

      Delete
  9. and this is outright clever, using old rhymes to hint at menace. I'm sure many of them were either political or downright scary!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Stapleton’s Choice

    He thought about pudgy Peter Watson, grandson of that, blithely, bumbling doctor.
    In his minds-eye, he imagined those fat little haunches curling intimately around his secret cache.
    He contemplated Henrietta Baskerville; with her stupid rainbow-dyed hair. He had no love for that family, but swatted the image aside like a fly from bog myrtle: No, not her.
    He smiled, thoughtfully rubbing the notch in his knife handle.
    It should be Shirley: Shirley Holmes, interfering busybody always poking her nose where it didn’t need to be.
    Fitting really, she always wanted to know where her arrogant father had gone.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Admiring of this, too. I've on;y read one Sherlock Holmes, but despite that thoroughly enjoyed the cleverness and the well-told tale.

      Delete
    2. Terrie, you always make your stand alone stories just as enjoyable as the Dilo series. You have beautiful narration, tight writing and smooth use of the prompts.

      Delete
    3. Into the mind of a psychopath it seems we've gone. Really well done with hints (really strong hints) to the Sherlock Holmes mysteries.

      Delete
    4. This was totally intriguing and oh so clever. What wonderful references to the old sleuth of Baker Street and his accompanying characters brought to life by enviable story-telling.

      Delete
    5. A sinister and fascinating tale. I love Sherlock Holmes, so I'm glad you wove something from that world.

      Delete
  11. jdeegan536@yahoo.com27 April 2019 at 01:54

    MORTHAN and I

    I face the “I”, whose fighting skills are legendary. But so are mine, as this blackguard will learn. Make no mistake; my blithe demeanor displays confidence, not cockiness, for I am Morthan, my kingdom’s greatest warrior, a living legend undefeated in battle.

    My shield boasts a rainbow, for a rainbow announces that a tempest has passed, that danger has been conquered. And I am the conqueror. My shield also contains a score of notches, each representing an enemy I have slain.

    We draw our swords and carefully step toward each other.

    I smile and say, “Finally… Morthan meets the I.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh! Oh! I read this with awe and admiration, aware I cannot tackle such a genre, and certainly not so smoothly. And so smooth it was I slid completely into the wonderfully, cleverly-set and amusing trap. Thank you Jim.

      Delete
    2. John, this took me several reads but I did get this one. So well flowing, use of prompts. Another excellent story.

      Delete
    3. It's easy to imagine how difficult a sword fight would be, all the pain and agony, even to the victor. They were a different breed back then. Well depicted tale and oh so enjoyable.

      Delete
    4. And yet another oh-so-clever one. The Prediction is overflowing with them this week. I had to admit to something of a head tilt here until I actually read the last line out loud...and then expressed as "Oh, yeah!!!"

      Delete
    5. I'm in awe of that last line!

      Delete
    6. I enjoyed how you wove rainbow in so effortlessly. I wouldn't have thought to put it on the shield! Well done. :)

      Delete
  12. Spy 1666 reports

    Earnest Squeek – invariably nick-named Pip – was as unprepossessing as his name, and therefore perfect for the role of mole since those groups he infiltrated noticed him about as much as they did the wind-scoured sails, the tar-dripped boards and the oar-scored notches along the top edge of their eco-sourced sustainable wooden hull.

    Commander Blithe, the moustachioed, much-medalled head of Counter-Urban and National Terrorists, was equally dismissive of Squeek’s talents. ’You claim to’ve discovered their codeword?’
    ‘Obvious sir. Rainbow Warriors thick as planks. Think backwards is clever enough.’
    ‘Rarely. Well, spill it man!’
    ‘It’s vibgyor, sir.’
    ‘Vibgyor?’
    He didn’t get it either.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sandra, Counter-Urban and National Terrorists, what an acronym and a very good password. Your writing always pleases me.

      Delete
    2. Sandra, I loved that whole first paragraph. I'm not sure if 'role of mole' was just the way it came out or well thought out, but I enjoyed it. I'll admit, I had to look up vibgyor, but I'm glad I did. (for those like me: a popular mnemonic device used for memorizing the traditional optical spectrum.)

      Delete
    3. Good heavens, the cleverness persists in spades. There is also a goodly dose of humour in this week's tales. J.K. Rowling missed out on using the name "Earnest Squeek." It should definitely have been a Harry Potter character.

      Delete
    4. yes indeed, very clever! some brilliant ideas emerging from this week's talented bunch

      Delete
  13. jdeegan536@yahoo.com27 April 2019 at 16:33

    You are very kind, Sandra.

    ReplyDelete
  14. My Own Sweet Way

    I was so happy to secure this job. Top notch company with excellent pay and benefits. My colleagues don't care for me though. They're a tight knit little group who have all been here together since the place opened. I think they resent my appointment as supervisor.

    I brought doughnuts in today to have with morning coffee. Left the box on the counter in the break room. How blithely they accept my treats without a word of thanks. I expected as much.

    There's jelly-filled, glazed and chocolate-covered...but I'm particularly anxious to see who will take the one with rainbow sprinkles.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm feeling distinctly out-classed here. In particular, your pacing is spot-on, the whole of it, poetic. Thank you.

      Delete
    2. I know something's going to happen to the poor chap who chooses the sprinkles. I'm with Sandra on the tidiness of this piece; it just flows so well and even looks good on the page before you read it. Amazing how you do it.

      Delete
    3. like the thinking behind this one...

      Delete
  15. If Sandra is feeling out classed, I shouldn't bother, but then what do I have to lose. Fortunately I don't like sprinkles on my doughnuts. A unique twist on decimating the workforce.

    ReplyDelete
  16. So High Above the Chimney Tops

    When they landed it hurt like buggery.
    Kendall had notched up a decisive victory.
    ‘My theory is proven. Rainbows are bridges across time.’
    Radcliffe considered the movie showing at the cinema across the road.
    Blithe Spirit, staring Rex Harrison.
    ‘Doesn’t prove it’s 1945,’ he said
    ‘How many people are in military uniform?’ asked Kendall.
    ‘If it is? And we are?’ asked Radcliffe. ‘How do you propose we get back?’
    Kendall looked skyward. ‘We are entirely at the mercy of the weather, dear fellow.’
    Radcliffe, sighed, wearily contemplating the infrequent manifestation of rainbows.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Read this three times straight off, just for the joy of the construction of it. Superb, from first to last sentence. Thank you David.

      Delete
    2. David, a time travel story and a great start to a series(hint, hint).a Lovely use of the word rainbow and it's description. Sounds like you've made the seriously consider list.

      Delete
    3. It seems Radcliffe's question of getting back should have come up before he agreed to the adventure, but I suppose he's a little shell shocked. A really well done and seemingly accurate portrayal of time travel. Very enjoyable.

      Delete
    4. Nice reference to the old classic movie and beautifully constructed tale. This would have slotted so nicely into the Twilight Zone series.

      Delete
    5. You've caught the Blithe Spirit mood, then, David, it works well here.

      Delete
  17. Weaving Light Against The Eye.

    Notched and curled, in patterns of winding colour
    a rainbow, dressed in snake-like hues,
    coils and folds, through rainfall, spilling, in broken folios,
    through a furled-back wide, slack, sky.
    Dazzling the downpour, it arcs in from distant furrowed fields
    and dips below endless wheat, bending blithely and dancing against the rain.
    Multicoloured and glinting, weaving light against the eye,
    It beguiles all with promised riches of green and gold.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. jdeegan536@yahoo.com28 April 2019 at 22:41

      Lovely stuff, Terrie. The rhythm here is like a favorite melody that keeps dancing in my mind. Very nice!

      Delete
    2. A good poem, Terrie. Very good imagery. Really liked the last line.

      Delete
    3. I see a muted watercolor painting, with amber and faded blues, wet on wet; the whole piece drips with images so well written.

      Delete
    4. Gorgeous. I can smell the rain, hear it drumming on the roof and goose-pimpling my skin.

      Delete
    5. I can never offer much in way of comment to your poetry, Terrie. It tends to speak for itself and really defies any analysis. Suffice to say, this is another poetic gem in your literary crown.

      Delete
    6. excellent light touch here,it would have been easy to overdo this, the very lightness carries it to the logical conclusion. Great stuff.

      Delete
  18. Cripplegate Junction/Part 187 - Wonder Of Wonders

    Notching up several elusive maneuvers around waiting passengers, Marmalade blithely navigated toward Alice. Anticipatory whiskers twitched. Small pink tongue licked a small pink nose. Alice would certainly have a tasty treat in her satchel.

    Initially unnoticed, a faded rainbow arched above the station. It was a phenomenon! A curiosity! A rarity! A most unusual circumstance anyway, since it had never been known for so much as even a shower to sprinkle down on the Junction. Surely a phenomenon in and of itself!

    Marmalade paused mid-stride, claws extended.

    This was an unexpected occurrence.

    Marmalade was always suspicious of Cripplegate's unexpected occurrences.

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

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Marmalade, the feline detective. Another well crafted story, Patricia. Good writing and prompt use.

      Delete
    2. After reading this, the first thing I did was copy it to a document to expose the overage of words. But alas, 100 on the nose. Yet another mystery of the Junction and the rain that seldom falls. Good use of Marmalade to tell this story. So enjoyable.

      Delete
    3. Cripplegate's first rainbow? Golly! But how lucky Marmalade was there to witness it.
      (and that John's an overly-suspicious contributor, ain't he?)

      Delete
    4. it always looks like more words than it is, but yes, John is a suspicious contributor, about a suspicious as Marmalade is in this instalment!!

      Delete
    5. As suspicious contributors/characters, Marmalade and I have Sandra and Antonia in our sights, so beware...

      Delete
  19. Kursaal (Episode One Hundred Sixty One) - "The Amorous Affairs Of Arbuthnot Jester/Part Eleven"

    Arbuthnot Jester was nothing if not creative in the boudoir. He aimed to please and if that meant a little role play, so be it. His ladies were particularly fond of "Shaun the Leprechaun" and Arby's diminutive stature enhanced the illusion.

    He perfected an Irish brogue, donned a ginger beard (which deliciously tickled) and in green hat, britches and jacket (sporting a shamrock in the buttonhole of his notched lapel), blithely executed a jig prior to more earnest capers.

    And as all his ladyloves attested, there was far more than a pot of gold at the end of Arby's rainbow!

    ---------------------------------------------------------
    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: Arbuthnot "Arby" Jester has featured in (many) previous episodes.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. One has to admire Arby and his creative techniques. Who would think to do a jig before hand? Me, that's who, now that I know it works.

      Delete
    2. Sorry, but pot of gold or not, I utterly fail be be tempted by a fake ginger beard. Lovely episode though.

      Delete
    3. I love a different story and this was such.

      Delete
    4. fake beards ugh but nice try Arby and it did get you what you wanted, lucky devil!

      Delete
  20. The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 62

    Tosca returned, whistling blithely and wearing the stinky camouflage.
    Cinereus appeared not to notice the stench but Sarg wrinkled her nose and quietly whispered orders to Nigel.
    Nigel notched his tool belt firmly into place, ‘So, let’s get this mission on the trail. Where exactly are the support troops, Sarg?’
    ‘Waiting undercover just beyond the bend in rainbow-rock trail; remember, stay alert soldiers, and protect the prophet.’ Sarg poked a small packet into Nigel’s tool belt, ‘Additions to your orders.’
    Clouds created shadows and re-covered the moon as the trio started out along the lower trail behind base burrow.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And I'm on tenterhooks to discover what this intrepid three have in mind. That image of Tosca blithely whistling is brilliant.

      Delete
    2. Clouds created shadows was a uniquely good line.

      Delete
    3. Lovely visual of our warriors marching off into the literary sunset. Can't wait to find our more of this little band's mission.

      Delete
    4. jdeegan536@yahoo.com1 May 2019 at 18:32

      'Additions to your orders' is quite a provocative group of words, Terrie, and has me thinking of the possibilities.

      Delete
    5. yet another great instalment!

      Delete
  21. Quietly whispered orders, then additional written orders slipped in... what's going on here? I seem to recall I had a faint theory for the origin of this stinky camouflage. Did you ever confirm what it is, Terrie?

    ReplyDelete
  22. Looking Back

    Alex peered into the gilt-framed mirror. A sickly aging queen returned the stare. No new notches on his bedpost for over a decade now. Not that he'd ever been an advocate of that practice.

    A curtain of multi-coloured Skittles cascaded down the television screen while a voice urged: "Taste the rainbow."

    Alex blithely raised the champagne glass prepared with his own brand of lethal cocktail and made a toast to his reflection.

    "I'll drink to that!"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. jdeegan536@yahoo.com29 April 2019 at 16:33

      What grabbed me in particular, Patricia, was your very creative use of the prompts. The tale, too, was excellent!

      Delete
    2. As an aside, I apologize to anyone who finds the term "queen" derogatory. It was certainly not intended that way and I hope nobody takes offense. Perhaps I can claim poetic license...? Or maybe I can change it to "drag queen." That seems to be a more acceptable reference.

      Delete
    3. I enjoyed Alex's wry toast to the television. So sad and so heartbreaking.

      Delete
    4. The contrast of loneliness with rainbow Skittles give is such poignancy, and yes, I agree with Jim.

      Delete
    5. Patricia, no need to apologize. An excellent use of a commercial to move the story along.

      Delete
    6. queens are queens... and the story is the story, perfect as it is. Sometimes the political correctness can spoil things. Leave well alone.

      Delete
  23. Friends

    “I think I resent being called blithe,” said Ramona, sipping her iced caramel latte.

    “It doesn’t necessarily have to be negative,” Cathy said, looking toward the street.

    “You said I’m a blithe idiot.”

    “But yet, you focus on blithe?”

    “Listen, you rainbow notched bitch,” Ramona said. “um, I seem to have forgotten what I was saying. My coffee’s cold.”

    “It’s an iced latte.”

    “Even so, I resent your rhetoric.”

    “What if I were to say you are an unconcerned, eccentric goddess?”

    “Ooh, I like goddess.” They touched coffee cups. “I’m so glad we had this talk.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. jdeegan536@yahoo.com29 April 2019 at 16:27

      I wonder what planet is hosting this conversation? A splendid use of dialogue, John.

      Delete
    2. Alarmingly convincing!! Especially enjoyed the cold iced coffee.

      Delete
    3. The planet Valley Girl, which is actually a moon of Venus. Another story, like every story so far that's 9.5+!

      Delete
    4. Always difficult to convey a sense of story by using chiefly dialogue, but this was achieved perfectly here. Lovely visuals too especially given the sparse descriptions.

      Delete
    5. I love the latte being cold when it was intended to be cold!

      Delete

  24. Sorry, for got a prompt word.


    The First Battle: Futility

    I blithely walked through the dead ‘Ghoram’ bodies, which reached our line. Three assaults and they keep coming. Seventy-four left, less than half my original compliment. I saw Corporal Jones, passing out ammo.

    “Greetings LT.”
    “Greetings Jonesy, how much do we have left?”
    “A few hundred clips, fifty grenades, and you.”
    “I’m no weapon.”
    “You’re the best, you’re hope. These ‘Grasshoppers’ are good for one thing LT?”
    “What’s that?”
    “The rainbows you make when you blow their heads off.”
    My radio crackled.
    “Lieutenant Khor, this is General Tines. You’re now CO of 3rd battalion. Captain, withdraw to Stygian Notch.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ack...rainbows being made when heads are being blown off. I will never see them in the same light again. Nice continuation, Jeffrey. This serialization is shaping up nicely.

      Delete
  25. Withdrawing to the Stygian Notch... doesn't sound like a picnic or a promising promotion to Captain. We'll see. Nice tight writing.

    ReplyDelete
  26. Stop The Week; I Want To Get Off (45)
    It gets better, then it doesn’t. Goes up a notch and then down again. The energies fluctuate, sometimes we’re capable of blithe feelings, other times we’re searching for those feelings and not finding them. The compliments on the shop continue to come in as last year’s tourists return for another look and find us completely different – and they like it. We’re still looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; indications are from other mediums our tide is not yet ready to turn. So the worry migraines persist… but we will survive!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The ups and downs... almost a prerequisite of life. Here's to more ups.

      Delete
    2. And no doubt the tide will keep on turning, throwing up as much dross as it does harvest.

      Delete
    3. Life often seems to be a sequence of one step forward and then two steps back but it's nice that returning tourists/customers like the transformations that take place from year to year. If I ever get to the Isle of Wight, I simply must come by and see what you have to offer.

      Delete
  27. "You carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag." W.B. Yeats. Sorry about the migraines, happy for your returning customers.

    ReplyDelete
  28. Problems in Paradise
    So I had this foolish idea, they’re performing Blithe Spirit at the Rainbow tomorrow night. I thought we could go, though we could be foolish and flippant and lift our relationship a notch, it’s been sliding… but you’re argumentative and picky and sniping at me so I sold the tickets back to the box office and bought tickets for something else instead. Something that fits the way we are right now far better than a piece of flapper frippery. Come with me, faithless lover, we’re going to see Sweeney Todd.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. jdeegan536@yahoo.com1 May 2019 at 23:51

      A great switch from Blithe Spirit to Sweeney Todd, Antonia, and not so subtle if 'faithless lover' has his wits about him. I wonder if he'll get the message?

      Delete
    2. This starts out so common, like everyday conversation. At first, I thought you were commenting on your day or something. Then it turns a little dark, and then a little darker yet, and gets spiced up with terms such as 'flapper frippery.' Nicely done.

      Delete
    3. John puts this perfectly, lulled me into a sense of false security then slapped me round the head when I wasn't looking.

      Delete
    4. Very good stand alone story, Antonia. Nice use of prompts and a very good ending line.

      Delete
    5. You are back with a vengeance, Antonio, and certainly have lost none of your touch when in comes to stand-alones. I'm with the faithless lover. I too will tag along to see "Sweeney Todd" whether 'tis beneficial for my welfare or not.

      Delete
    6. That should, of course, read "AntoniA." Didn't mean to imply you had recently gone through a gender reassignment!

      Delete
  29. The Mad Italian 104
    The talk is of rainbows from the parties due for election locally. The newspapers talk of decimation, enough to damp any blithe spirits. The talk is of a settlement long before the deadline, can the Prime Minister raise her act a notch to achieve this? There is so much in the air, it might as well be a performance of Blithe Spirit for all the serious attention and intention on display right now before the populace. The coming elections will be damaging to all parties for all parties have offended and upset their constituents, so what do they expect?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's never good when all party's constituents are dissatisfied. Talk about a lose lose situation.

      Delete
    2. I shudder to think what coming elections might have in store for us. There certainly have been some horrifying experiences along those lines of late.

      Delete
  30. Angels

    She dances blithely in the hall, her body moving with the boldness of a woman who knows herself. She spins, red robe flaring wide, and her pale body catches rainbows from the window behind my head.

    “Can you hear them?” she asks. Her voice is breathless, rapturous. “The angels?”

    She whirls close, and I shift my bound hands behind my back.

    The notched blade arcs past my face. Drops of blood splatter across my swollen mouth.

    “Please, Calliope,” I whisper. “Let me go.”

    She drops in front of me, eyes wide, luminous. “They’re coming, Meg. They’ll take us home.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well, there go my chances for the week, unless I suddenly learn to write like this. This was superb. The blithe dancer and the helpless, bound Meg. Shiver shiver.

      Delete
    2. Yikes. Another poisoned kernel piece, so beautifully-wrapped.

      Delete
    3. This is a very well done story, builds tension form the beginning. John, the difference is I didn't have a chance when you posted. This week has been IMHO, one of your best weeks!

      Delete
    4. such a startling piece, the bound hands just a hint at the horror waiting at the end.

      Delete
    5. This simply drips with madness incarnate. Beautiful phrasing with the "pale body" catching rainbows. This week's crop of tales has been so diverse it could form its own anthology.

      Delete
  31. P__A__R__A__D__I__S__E

    No one knew when they arrived. But they had stopped all the bad. Truly a blessing, yes? They asked for so little in return. The love of the masses mainly.

    Of course, everyone needs to eat. They only took a few, here and there. Surely no one would miss a child too much? My Sara, for instance. Her blithely smiling face, such pride and joy. She skipped through the notch in the rock, her rainbow hair bow glittering.

    My mind screamed.

    We had no will. Free-will is gone now. It’s for our own good.

    I smiled my own idiot smile.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This truly one of my recurring nightmares, the sort of belief that scares me rigid. And the sense of impotence

      Delete
    2. Dave this is one of your best stories. How much would we give for safety and security.

      Delete
    3. This is such an enigmatic piece. One could read so many different things into it. I particularly liked the title which seems to belie much of what follows. "Free-will is gone now." How close to the truth that is turning out to be these days.

      Delete
  32. When I read, they asked for so little in return, I knew something was coming. I wonder how long the idiot smile will last? Very enjoyable.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Sir. I assume it will last the for rest of his life.

      Delete
    2. cold, calculating and scary, what would we give?

      Delete
  33. The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 63

    Thoughtfully Pink Fairy stroked his rainbow-feathered boa, ‘Business as usual later, Brenda: I’d rather not reveal Mr Armi is here.’
    Brenda nodded, and with a swift pull removed the thorn.
    Armi winced, ‘It’s a fecking ball’s up, Pinkie. Sarg’ll notch this up a failure. I’m no closer t’ findin’ who the Big Boss is.’
    Pink Fairy patted Armi's paw, ‘Well, Atlas reckons it’s not Moloch because, when you were indisposed, he heard a gerbil tell Moloch to take you to The Boss.’ Pink Fairy paused; grinned, then asked blithely, ‘..And just what did you do to my pink feather-boa Armi?’

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Now we have to add 'wondering who the boss is' to the mysteries. I think I have a suspicion. Nice work.

      Delete
  34. The Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #177
    Dibs on Murder


    The blithe idiots that people the Land of Rainbows embassy assume themselves safe from nonbinary assassins, such as myself. They would be wrong. Flying a rainbow flag is no protection from politics. As usual innocents will be safe, but those bastards after the princess will become notches on my bow. She’s mine.

    ReplyDelete