Is what I’m seeing from my window as
I type this, and I look forward to reading your choice of favourites when I
return home, having no doubt it has been a tricky one.
In the meantime, see what you can do
with these:
Words
for next week: caution pouch sweat
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday 11th April, words
posted Friday 12th
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.
Despite Holly adding a word, then taking one away, I still cast my vote for Scaris.
ReplyDeleteArgh!!!! Choices, choices … I have so many favourites and I cant decide which one - and its all the fault of every one of you - for being such brilliant writers. I keep coming back to Patricia's 'Alis Volat Propriis' and 'Lulabelle' as well as Daves 'I got a crush' so I will just cheat a little and vote for all three.
DeleteMixed Feelings
ReplyDeleteMarni felt the sweat trickle down the arms of her peekaboo blouse. That man could certainly get to her. Never had she felt so secure, so loved. She so longed to alter her cautious attitude toward men, pack her negativity in some old mail pouch and toss it in the sea.
He stood tall, handsome as ever, charming Marni’s mother with his wit. He was a rarity to be sure. Tonight, she would tell him she loved him. Make him feel good. It was true, wasn’t it? He deserved it. Instead, she shot him in the head.
There you go again, John - setting the bar very high for the rest of us. Good tight writing and a marvelous conclusion!
DeleteI've always been most frightened by the horrors that have a real chance of happening. The movie "play Misty For me" when I was a kid, and now "Mixed feelings". Thanks for the nightmares, John! LOL. It is a very good piece, and I like it muchly though.
DeleteJohn does this a lot moving the bar after many of us have already faulted on our first jump. That said, this is one heck of a story and a surprise ending.
DeleteWhat a wonderful title for a wonderful little tale. I wonder what tipped the scales so drastically.
DeleteWhat more can I add to the above comments? Wonderfully creative and compact writing draws the reader into the story and then delivers (excuse the pun) a killer final sentence. Most enjoyable.
DeleteI feel like I just tripped up! So immersed and then ... whoomph. Clever writing John.
DeleteFar from easy decision but after a re-read and some careful consideration, I'm going to go with Dave's I'VE * GOT * A * CRUSH. True honour to be counted among those who inhabit this talented forum!
ReplyDeleteI really loved Dave's story. I second! :)
DeleteThank you both. I am so glad I don’t have to choose, as I doubt I could.
DeleteI've three from last weeks bumper crop of stories. Sandra's Change of Focus 322, Patricia's Alis Volat Propriis, and Holly's Scaris
ReplyDeleteI'm going for Patricia's Lulabelle - creepy scary story which says more than the 100 words she used. Brilliant.
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 55
ReplyDeleteAtlas sat by Armi all day. He applied chewed comfrey and calendula root to his friend’s wounds and with a gentle paw, cautiously probed the large lump on Armi’s head.
He sniffed the air; scenting for that sweaty tang of death that often lingers on the wind. Finally, he closed the pouches on his tool-belt.
He could do nothing more to help the small dillo. He had a mission to fulfil.
As dusk rolled over the horizon, he covered his friend with dried arnica leaves, placed one of Pink-Fairy’s coins into Armi’s paw and loped out into the gathering dark.
I enjoyed how you wove natural remedies into the story so smoothly. Your use of the prompts and how you've humanized them. Good writing.
DeleteThat Atlas is something else. I think I'd enjoy having a beer with him.
DeleteThe bond between Atlas and Armi is beautifully presented, Terrie. And, as always, your writing is so vivid and potent.
DeleteMagnificent representation of friendship in the worst of times as well as the best. I'm wondering if Pink-Fairy's coin correlates in any way to the Roman tradition of placing coins on the eyes of the deceased to pay the ferryman. I do hope it's not an indication of Armi's fate.
DeleteSuch a wealth of information, beautifully presented, as is the bond between two. I weekly anticipate each episode with much impatience.
Deletegreat instalment showing the characters' personalities clearly.
DeleteComradeship, beyond race, species and reality. I felt it, and makes me proud to read your tale of the 'dillos. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteNo Free Ride
ReplyDeleteCautions about hitchhiking are everywhere. Four bodies have already been found along the highway. Dangerous to ride with strangers is another warning. Well, that's a given. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
The overly-short skirt and low-cut sweater are designed to attract attention and the blonde hair shimmers like a halo in the headlights.
His hand snakes across the seat and squeezes her thigh. He never notices her pull the sharpened ice-pick from the leather pouch tucked into her spike-heeled boot.
A sharpened ice pick...what a line and his not so gentlemanly behavior seems to earning it's just rewards.
DeleteNice turn to have the assumed victim become contributor of the body count.
DeleteCleverly misleading tale, Patricia, I especially liked the line ‘the blonde hair shimmers like a halo in the headlights.’
DeleteI enjoyed the twist in the conclusion too. Skilfully done.
True; every girl needs a hobby of some sort.
Deleteclever twist, like this a lot.
DeleteO u t * W I t h * T h e * O l d
ReplyDelete“Honey, trash day tomorrow” she called to me.
I ignored her, and finished stuffing my pouch with the last of the papers. Tickets, statements, new IDs. My old life was done. I had cleaned out the accounts and re-mortgaged the house. The necessary cautions to prevent her from finding out were in place. But, who cares?
As I stepped back into the living room I noticed the plastic tarp under my feet. I saw her and some guy standing there, both in white coveralls, with, guns? My suddenly nerveless body was immediately covered in sweat.
“Jim, we need to talk”.
You did a great job of setting us up for a great twist at the end, Dave! Bravo!
DeleteAnother story clears the bar! Very good writing and use of the prompts and a killer of a last line.
DeleteAnother clever story idea among many with you, Dave. The tables have been turned.
DeleteAnd that's what you get for being sneaky! Sorry...can't begin to feel sorry for the would-be double-crosser...although I can cheer rousingly for the way you portrayed the entire scenario.
DeleteSuch an enjoyable story Dave. You always manage to contribute interesting, and compelling entries - and in such variety - I always look forward to reading them.
DeleteThis is the week of the double cross, the two-faced trickery, and yours a prime example - well done.
DeleteI wonder which of the prompts triggered (sorry!) the double cross stories? This is clever too!
Delete
ReplyDeleteThe First Battle
1st Lieutenant Randy Khnor, commander of D company, 3rd battalion, Terran Marines, reviewed his soldiers. Some are sweating already!
“Listen up you regurgitated pieces of shit! We are going to defend OP’s seven and thirteen on Horseshoe Ridge, from the Ghoram, a new dance partner for us Marines to party with. We’ll be departing at zero 5:30 hours. I expect all ammo pouches full and each soldier will have two extra, along with four TDX grenades. Are there any questions?”
“Sir! What can you tell us about these ‘Grasshoppers’ we’ll be sending to hell?”
“They don’t believe in being cautious.”
Nice lingo, Jeffrey. This was very enjoyable.
DeleteThis was very nicely done. Thoroughly enjoyable. I assume this is the new serialization of which you spoke? Although, it works just as well as a stand-alone.
DeleteOOh-RAH! My kind of tale! Thanks Jeffrey
ReplyDeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 184 - Travelling Companions
ReplyDeleteThe Grande Dame's carriage was crowded and oppressive. She mopped her brow with a lace handkerchief.
"Sweaty innit?" asked what seemed a common streetwalker across the aisle.
The Grande Dame "hrmphed." Horses were known to sweat, ladies glowed. From her carpetbag, she retrieved an eau-de-toilette atomizer encased in an embroidered pouch and sprayed liberally.
"'Ave a caution, missus," said a young man next to the apparent strumpet. "Whiffs like a tart's boudoir!"
He winked at the trollop (if such she was) who returned the gesture.
The Grande Dame was appalled.
How did such riff-raff obtain a first class ticket?
---------------------------------------------------------
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.
----------------------------------------------------------
You say I hide things in my stories or poems. So do you, but where I'm raw or even crass, you are subtle. As usual Patricia, excellent writing and prompt use.
DeleteSomething tells me it will take more than an atomizer,(whatever that is) to make the grande dame presentable. Loved the trollop and the crude guy.
DeleteExcellently enjoyable!
Deletevivid characters in this one, Patricia!
DeleteSIGNS III – THE VAPOR
ReplyDeleteThat sinister word, DON’T, had caution and panic colliding in me like opposing armies. I desperately tried the window. It was locked, and assaulting it with my flashlight broke only the flashlight.
I whirled around in search of escape and saw a door across the room slowly open. Pure fear took hold, swamping my face with sweat and stretching my mouth into a round empty pouch. I watched horrified as an amber glow slithered toward me like a huge stalking serpent.
The eerie glow paused, curled upward, and began to alter. A face took shape.
My screams would go unheard.
This vapor is some nasty stuff. You built fear and tension expertly. Nice.
DeleteYe gods. How nightmarish was this? Our protagonist really should have hauled tail when he had the chance or, better yet, never have ventured inside. What a horrific serialization (in the most positive of cases) this is turning out to bed.
DeleteEnviably skillful depiction of horrific.
DeleteI like the image of trying to smash the window and only smashing the flashlight, it conjures up depths of panic so well.
DeleteNot totally true, he heard them. A very nicely done narration of fear and hopelessness. Well used prompts.
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 56
ReplyDeleteSarg wondered why the usually cautious Cinereus would join this dangerous mission but she kept the thought to herself. She knew the scarred and scruffy prophet’s reasons always had purpose, just as she knew her choice of Nigel and Tosca was the best she could have made.
Cinereus fingered the sweaty talisman-pouch hung at his neck, ‘I have foreseen, this is a journey I must take, and the guardian-warrior, and the light-pawed one must make it also.
Sarg sighed; her faith in the mystic koala grew stronger.
‘What a pain in the tail,’ mumbled Nigel, glancing at his paws.
Nigel glancing at his paws made me laugh. Another enjoyable installment.
DeleteYou are going to have to be careful with delivering us a double dose of 'dillos every week. We are starting to consider it the norm. I know I'd be devastated now if there was only one per week.
DeleteSo good that you have parallel tales going on here. Love the 'scarred and scruffy prophet'.
Deleteit's a good story which is taking you over, keep it going!
DeleteAnother episode, oh goodie! Pain in the tail. That's just great.
DeleteLest We Forget
ReplyDeleteSatin sheets, where the scent of passion's sweat lingers like expensive perfume.
Lest we forget.
A brocade pouch that holds a crimson velvet ribbon once stolen from saffron curls. A cherished token of devotion and fidelity.
Lest we forget.
A small ebony box carved with cupids and arrowed hearts. The lid released by a tiny brass key throws caution to the wind. Two hollows of ivory...a perfect home for the matched twin spheres brilliant, in their detached beauty, as polished green beryl. They stare solemnly from their final resting place and reflect, as fancy strikes, all-consuming adoration.
Lest we forget.
A splendid first line leads us into a poignant setting, Patricia.
DeleteYour words are always such a pleasure to read. I felt rather under-dressed sitting here in jeans.
DeleteHow thoroughly, deliciously nasty, and how cruel forcing my mind to imagine such awdulness,
DeleteYou've led us into a dark place in this story, Patricia. Fantastic.
DeleteThe more things change, the more they remain the same. Your writing among them. An excellent story.
DeleteFrom a supine position [Threshold 243]
ReplyDeleteCaution was necessary: my shift pouched and pinned, an intemperate move could leave me naked (to say nothing of further harming Raven; his skin already silver-sweated).
Slowly I let my eyes travel from broad-set feet upwards over heavy-cloth wide-belted trousers to part-buttoned shirt. The hairless skin beneath neither the pale of mine, nor the ebony of Raven, but something in-between. Product of one parent plain, the other coloured.
Curiosity coloured his expression. As I watched, it morphed to recognition. Made a swift and hasty glance behind. To where the girl Lolita lay unmoving.
Then returned to Raven. Asking ‘Why now?’
I doubt if "sweat" could be more eloquently described than in "silver-sweated." Who is this new and intriguing character? Should I know? Have I missed something? What a cliff hanger to know that the expression has turned to one of recognition. But of whom? Raven? Our protagonist (who continues to be nameless)? And then there's the "Why now?" question. I'll echo that inquiry in spades.
DeleteLolita, the mystery girl: A long lost daughter suddenly found comes to mind, but who knows for sure.
DeleteSandra, very good description, "Curiosity coloured his expression." was a very good line.
DeleteA superb use of clear, powerful language in this entry, Sandra. 'Curiosity colored his expression' is but one of many examples.
ReplyDeletean instalment of questions for us and for the characters, too. Awaiting the next...
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Fifty Eight) - "Out Of Business"
ReplyDeleteIt was with some sadness that Primrose Lee dismantled "Libby's Lichens." The little girl had sweated and slaved to make her venture a success; however, it seemed obvious that Libby Pepperdyne had fallen victim to foul play...much like her twin, Lucy. Perhaps therein lay a cautionary tale.
Libby's ethnolichenological ability had been extraordinary. Not Primrose's preferred field but an impressive talent nonetheless.
The elixirologist packed Libby's inventory of small mesh sachets with their colourful tags into a sturdy box and then unearthed a stash of pouches sans labels. Primrose frowned. Why would Libby have a secret cache of unmarked merchandise?
---------------------------------------------------------
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: Primrose Lee, "Libby's Lichens" and the Pepperdyne Twins (Libby and Lucy) have all featured in previous episodes.
The unmarked merchandise certainly hovers in the forefront. Once again, I counted your words, as it didn't seem possible to get so much into so few words.
DeleteAn intriguement of pouches indeed. Do we get to find out what they contain?
Deleteoh my, what secrets are in the pouches, what light will it shed on everyone...
Delete
ReplyDeleteAwakening
Unwrapped, one eye flutters into wakefulness.
The other quivers against soil,
shifting alongside rock in motion.
Within the unlocked, cave-cracked, glistening deep,
toothy, fire-kissed lips leak blistered steam.
Stirring, She spirals hot breath
through sooty, snouted, scales, into the baked air.
Pouched and powdered as ashes trailing over black-burned bones,
Her petal-pleated skin gathers in sulphur-scented blossoms
of sweat-flamed folds, drenched in ichor.
Tapping out times melody of memories, long forgot,
Cautious claws click rhythmically over fire-seared stones.
Then, diaphanous as thought, brittle as flame, summoning darkness
she moves into starlight
and unravels dark wings against the sallow moon.
Stunning, Terrie. I was quickly drawn into this and so wonderfully pulled along by your skillful use of language.
DeleteWhat scorched beast is this? When she takes flight, God help us all. Very well done.
Delete'diaphanous as thought' is truly wonderful.
Deletewish I could write poetry... this is so image laden it needs reading 2-3 times to appreciate it all.
DeleteThis is exquisite. I love your depiction of a dragon (assuming that's what she is :).
DeleteAgain, Terrie. you give us your amazing poetic side with a true lyrical composition. I have now read this three times and find something new and melodious every time.
ReplyDelete[Change of focus 323]
ReplyDeleteThe Vice DI’s rattling off the standard caution in rural-accented Khakbethian gave Pettinger pause. Would she be less hostile interrogating a fellow-countryman? Or would a claim of insufficient understanding, and a translator whose honesty could be policed, be to his advantage?
Replacing the cell key in the once-pale leather pouch at her waist, now stained with more than sweat-released finger-grease and blood, she prodded him in a place to the left of his spine he’d not previously realised was vulnerable, with a force that convinced him an appeal for female solidarity would be a waste of breath.
'Tādā veidā, stulba’
He's getting in pretty deep. The tension is very thick and gripping. Nicely done.
Deletehe is indeed getting in deep, going to take some effort on his part to work his way out of this one.
DeleteImmediately went to research the final line...Latvian. Not sure I knew such a language existed! I like the idea of the interrogator being female and a not-so-sympathetic one at that. Pettinger is in a bit of a pickle this time around and no mistake.
DeleteEnthralled
ReplyDeleteThe sound of water drew her forward, an enthralling drip, drip, drip ahead in the dark. Edging closer, Mari clutched her dagger. She felt for the heavy pouch at her waist and moved nervous fingers up to her forehead to wipe away the sweat dripping into her eyes.
Caution told her to run, to hide.
Turning a corner, Mari stepped into a cavern. She blinked, eyeing the fat candles covering the floor. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, dripping water into small pools and atop the head of a crowned skeleton, sitting on an enormous selenite throne.
“Finally,” a voice rasped.
and? when's the next instalment coming, Holly?
DeleteWhen you recover, I hope! Get well soon.
You have a talent for richly appealing to and stimulating all the senses - this a prime example.
DeleteMuch suspense in this entry, Holly, and perfectly drawn out through "Finally." I don't want to be in Mari's shoes. Well done!
DeleteThis was a lesson in suspense and the art of visuals. So easy to picture that skeleton, crown perched (crookedly, as least as I perceive it) on the skull. Nicely composed last line that is a perfect cliffhanger.
DeleteAnd sorry to hear about the tummy bug. Speedy recovery!
Great job setting the scene of stepping into the cavern. My stomach clenched a bit at the last line. (sorry, shouldn't have said stomach).
DeleteThank you everyone! I'm finally feeling alive again today. :)
DeleteMy kids lovingly gave me some kind of stomach bug, so I'll try to return and comment on everyone's stories before Friday, but I might be late.
ReplyDeleteStop the Week; I Want to get Off (42)
ReplyDeleteHere we are, 42 weeks into a serialisation of life behind the counter… not quite sweating today, I never felt like taking off the top woollen jacket but sunshine, most welcome. Shaun’s on the mainland, tomorrow’s the funeral, then there’s drinks and more drinks… caution is thrown out when Irishmen get together. I’ve missed him today standing outside with a pouch of baccy, talking to all who walk by. Meantime, I’ve used the quiet to make some radical changes, moving first 100s of bulbs, then books, then bike bits… it’s looking good and should bring new energies. I hope.
There's a rare air of calm in this - long may it last.
DeleteThis has a "spring cleaning" air to it. I was trying to picture whether the referenced "bulbs" were the electrical or flowering kind. I finally decided I liked the version that gets planted better and fits it more nicely with my "spring cleaning" perception. Was I right?
DeleteShaun sounds like an interesting fellow.
DeleteSorry, Patricia, it is bulbs, the things that light up. Good job it isn't the growing kind, they won't last but these will for as long as it takes to sell out the several hundred we inherited from the closed down shop next door. I have bayonet and screw in bulbs ranging from tiny 15w ones to the large impressive 75w spotlights and the useful 100w, although 22 of those sold to one person and I am waiting on her coming to collect another 30+ any time soon. She's changed her lamps throughout the house to only take these old bulbs (old in technology, they're old in age too but all work perfectly) as she hates the new energy bulbs. So do I, I squirreled a few small round ones away to home for our sidelights when they came in.
DeleteShaun's been living in East Cowes for a lot of years, knows a lot of people through darts, entertainment evenings around the island with my beloved Terry, through pool, fishing (he's a record holder for a type of fish) his delivery job for the fish and chip shop 3 nights a week, all this comes into the shop, so while he's telling people I'm a published children's author (he forgets my zombie novel!) which explains why I write good advertising copy, he's bringing all his contacts and wide experience to the work we do. I've had a lot of jobs in the past 60 years, this is by far the best!
The Mad Italian 101
ReplyDeleteApproach with caution all who mutter the ‘B’ word, it seems: the populace are exhausted by the discussions, the stance taken by so many. The fact is, were I to throw a pouch of gold into the chamber, all would scrabble for it regardless of party loyalty. Yet they cannot see they risk losing their MP status and wage by persisting in following the accepted stance, ‘we cannot talk with the Opposition.’ It is enough to generate a sweat among constituents, but not, it would seem, the MPs themselves. There is a solution, is there the will to find it?
The path seems to be getting more into the woods with every passing moment these days. One wonders if the light at the end of the tunnel exists any more. However, I like Leonardo's (somewhat) optimistic conclusion.
DeleteThe only good thing I can see of these exhausting negotiations is we get to hear from the Italian weekly.
DeleteOK, taking time out to say thank you to Sandra.
ReplyDeleteThe Prediction Challenge has been running for a few years now, with some good people at the helm and some who didn't take it seriously enough and we'd be left for 2-3 weeks with no hint of winners or new words. At its peak there were at least 29-30 people contributing weekly, I have 29 names in the back of my zombie novel, The Skullface Chronicles. The book began through the Challenge. I'm not sure I could cope with that many people now but...
Sandra took over at a time when the Challenge was foundering, by being there every week with comments, contributions and new words, it has become an essential for us regulars and infrequent visitors alike. It looks easy but it isn't, it needs dedication and commitment. Sandra has shedloads of both.
So, a very big THANK YOU to Sandra for all the work and for being there and keeping it going. The group is valuable, supportive, addictive and great fun. No one could ask for more.
Thank you Antonia, and thank you all. Were there less full-blooded support, (by which I don't mean numbers) running this could quite easily tip into a chore, but I delight in finding prompt words, am stimulated, appalled, admiring and horrified on a weekly basis by the ingenuity of their incorporation and 100% supported by your participation. And get the chance to have some of my writing read.
DeleteI'm the sort of person who makes a commitment and sticks to it; the previous unreliability drove me nuts, so even though I didn't have the horror-writing credentials, I did know I would be reliable, as far as I am able. And it's always nice to be appreciated.
It's people like Sandra at the helm and Antonia as a regular that makes The Prediction an amazing place to come and scribble tales every week. Personally, I am constantly in awe of what is conjured here time after time and feel sure I'm in the company of some oft-published authors who are too modest to broadcast the fact. I feel...and hope...my meagre writings have improved since my visits began. At the very least, I have more than enjoyed the rich and varied tapestry that is presented without fail. I truly don't know where I would dip my plume if this place every closed up shop.
Delete"Every" should read "ever," of course...!!!
Delete(Apparently, my skill at creating typos hasn't decreased any!!!)
Thank you for saying this, Antonia. I appreciate you and Sandra (thank you for your leadership and keeping this going!), and all the contributors. I'm not sure what I'd do without the Prediction, though life does force me to skip a few weeks here and there. It's a delight to participate here!
DeleteI also must say I'm glad it expanded away from horror a little bit so I could share my fantasy and sci-fi imaginings (more my style), but it was fun seeing what terrifying tales I could come up with when horror was the genre of choice. Unfamiliar challenges are always good for the brain!
DeleteWe are grateful to you, Sandra!
ReplyDeleteThe Caution Pouch
ReplyDeleteInside the Caution Pouch Katsumi began to sweat. Her hands hovered over the controls as she approached the anomaly. No one had been this close before. The skin of the Pouch stretched but did not tear. She saw the anomaly in all of its vast kaleidoscopic glory - jagged slithers of past present and future, swirling and colliding.
The Pouch began to tumble and drift.
She became trapped in a pulse and repeated the moment.
She became trapped in a pulse and repeated the moment.
She became trapped in a pulse...
Very nightmarish and extremely visual. That repetition at the end certainly drove the point home. And what a unique use of "pouch" by turning it into a vessel.
DeleteSuch a clever us of caution - passed me by it was a prompt!
DeleteWho would think one could fit all the prompt words in an eight word sentence, and nicely at that. Clever story, David.
ReplyDeleteextraordinary, and it works, with horrific images that we conjure from your few words.
DeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #174
ReplyDeletePlans Before Sleep
Night is falling and I’m surrounded by towns. Wonderful. I’ll have to stay in someone’s garden. Humans don’t like strangers in their gardens. Last time they tried to steal my pouch of poison flowers. This time I need to be cautious.
That one has a good tree.
This climbing thing would be a vast deal easier if my sweaty hands weren’t melting the tree snow.
There we go. I think this should be high enough.
The full moon is lovely over those walls.