Too hastily posted, but unwilling to
spell it out over-baldly, I failed to make my last week’s post completely
clear: the old lady was blind, as well as being robbed blind by two opportunist
burglars-become murders – my apologies.
At least this week’s winner is
simple enough to decipher: Patricia’s
five-episode ‘Reflections’ was stand-out. Not so much for the multiplicity of
episodes but the skill in the build-up and repetition of prompts without them
jarring. And, of course, the ever-increasing tension.
Words
for next week: cardboard confluence drama
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday 17th October,
words posted Friday 18th
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.
Congrats Patricia. Well deserved accolades for an ambitious and well written series.
ReplyDeleteThe Bray Chronicles
ReplyDeleteIn a remarkable confluence of events, Bartholomew Bray was in attendance at the opening of the Moroccan Murder Symposium in Casablanca. To his dismay, a full size cardboard cutout of himself was displayed in the lobby with the label of prolific serial killer on a placard.
Risking a dramatic exit, Bartholomew walked away quickly as people began to point. How had the photo been obtained? And why was his bad side emphasized? Man, you kill a few hundred Moroccans and people get bent all out of shape.
To the cabby: “Take me to Algeria. I don’t care what it costs.”
Horrors! Bart's bad side was emphasized! Photographers have no respect for serial killers! The Bray Chronicles continue to be very interesting and entertaining, John.
DeleteLove that opening! And the sharply drawn scene.
DeleteGreat continuation. I love the reference to how killing a few hundred Moroccans gets people out of shape. You always have such a humorous twist to your writing that is enviable.
Deletesuch an attitude to maintain - and he does it well!
DeleteThe Bray Chronicles
ReplyDeleteIn a thatched hut deep into Nigeria, the shaman, who dabbled in plastic surgery, performed the procedure. Bartholomew Bray noted that anesthesia had yet to make its way into these parts. Ignoring the cardboard no smoking sign, he lit a Tiparillo and dramatically blew smoke into the face of his attendant.
Bartholomew said to the boy, “Are you by chance Moroccan?”
“No sir, Egyptian.”
Bartholomew noted the confluent features between his remarkable eyes and his strong forehead. Close enough, he thought to himself.
“Does it hurt?” the boy said.
“Only when I smile,” Bartholomew said, smiling his new smile.
Not sure why, or how, but my mind became most undisciplined reading this. Apologies!
DeleteI definitely feel uneasy for the fate of this Egyptian lad. Something tells me my fears are not unfounded. And you said you couldn't write serials...!!!
Deletethis is a sneaky instalment, twisting things so we're not sure where the story's going next.
DeleteSuch Big Eyes You Have
ReplyDeleteThe Reich was rapidly collapsing. At the confluence of the Rhine and the Mosel Kurt watched the unfolding drama of the advancing American army obliterating the town of Koblenz.
His rifle was jammed and his boots were stuffed with cardboard to stop his feet from getting wet.
The full moon caused painful spasms. His wulven half rose to dominance. Transmorphing he watched the girl stumble over the rubble as she emerged through the smoke. Her red hooded cape was ragged around her. She held out a pale hand. “Liebchen,” she said. “Come away with me to the forest.”
An interesting and complex story, David. Combining the war with a classic story is clever and entertaining. It's about time Red embraced her on again-off again relationship with the wolf.
DeleteOh yes, what John says. In spades.
DeleteHow cleverly you suggested Little Red Riding Hood, David. This could lead to some very interesting future events.
DeleteLovely twist on what we all know and love about Red Riding Hood. I simply adore what I call "Fractured Fairy Tales" and this is one of the best I've come across with its incorporated historical references.
Delete100% with Patricia, I too love twisted fairy tales and this is brilliantly done.
DeletePariah
ReplyDeleteThey try to avoid drama, people who exist on the edge of the night. Desirous only to be left alone and, on cold nights, enjoy the confluence of cronies around the warmth of flames within a metal garbage can, to share what sustenance can be scavenged, before retiring to homes that once housed washing machines, refrigerators and other major appliances.
But there will always be those whose delight in life is to threaten with scathing words and violent actions.
Matches are so easy to obtain and corrugated cardboard makes for such a brilliant blaze.
Congrats on securing top honors last week, Patricia. You are at it again this week, offering a beautiful and vividly crafted scene.
DeleteNicely done, Patricia. My son works with homeless encampments as part of his dissertation at American University. He says being homeless is extremely dangerous, with constant threats of violence and theft. The people are such easy targets and not much scrutiny is paid by law enforcement for their safety. And now, it seems, arson is a threat as well.
DeleteThis has very fast become a week of vivid vignettes. That final line especially so
Deleteyes, congrats Patricia, and then you give us this!! Wonderful stuff.
Delete(I just bought baguette cardboard boxes home for the cats, their winter treat, we like to vary the toys)
THE BATTLE
ReplyDeleteThe confluence of Patrick’s fears encircled his spine like constricting snakes. He had no hope against the massive horror towering over him, but he had to face it, for he was Earth’s last hope.
The alien creature was huge; its thunderous growl shook the air.
Swallowing a deep breath, Patrick stepped forward.
“Patrick! Get in here and do your homework!”
Patrick slumped as the drama of the moment quickly waned. “Geez, Mom! Okay!” He leaned his cardboard shield and plastic laser rifle against the steps.
Behind him, the alien creature slipped into the shadows.
The battle would have to wait.
Oh, how lovely and surprising. Hope Patrick gets his homework done ASAP.
DeleteVery clever, Jim. I'm thinking you were wondering what to do with cardboard, and you thought... cardboard shield, and the rest just fell into place. High entertainment with this.
DeleteAw...drew me in and then left me with a definite chuckle. I'm sure the alien creature will still be loitering when Patrick is done with his homework and then the fur is really going to fly...!!! Lovely unique little take on the prompt words.
Deletefrom a child's perspective, how wonderful is that!
DeleteDownfall [Threshold 273]
ReplyDeleteA shriek preceded a sudden ominous crackling. A shower of fine white flakes was succeeded by panels of the ceiling, flimsy as cardboard beneath its floribunda, and the scrabbling legs of Fourth girl Zoe. From above, grunting attempts were made to haul her upwards, then a much larger portion broke free, releasing a confluence of bare legs. Momentarily I feared they all were naked, but drama was averted when, landed, they hastened to straighten their dress.
From the bed, duvet disarranged enough to allow glimpses of our tangled, sweaty limbs, Raven gazed, amused. ‘Shut the door on your way out.’
Oh, this is priceless, the voyeurs falling through the ceiling. A peeping Tom's worst nightmare. I'm glad Raven took it so well, but then again, it would be a shot in the arm to have all those women desiring you.
DeleteCould Raven be any more nonchalant? That man is the epitome of smooth in such situations. Love how efforts were made to haul Zoe upward which only resulted in a total tumble. I love all the episodes in this series but it's a true treat when humour plays a part.
DeleteVery, very clever, Sandra, and quite amusing as well. Raven's reaction to the tumbling ease-droppers is priceless!
Deletesensitive subject, with my bedroom ceiling partly down (and oddly, no longer wet) but I am assured there is not enough room for people to get in there (we have no loft space) For all that, falling through is just an image I can do do without.
DeleteChange of focus [348]
ReplyDeleteLast time, seeing only hobbit-child, ignorant of its identity and thanks to DC Sally Vicksen, Pettinger avoided drama by smuggling Aleks home, where green eyes, fluent Khakbethian and mother’s name rendered doubts of paternity flimsy as wet cardboard.
Two years on, the surely-never-child had confidence as well as English; love, relief and recognition of undeniable resemblance demolished Pettinger’s would-be secrecy in a confluence of laughing congratulation from the unusually crowded canteen they’d taken him to.
But on seeing him, Aleks’ composure shattered. An anguished outpouring, tears unstoppable, brought the room to silence, even though only Pettinger understood the dreadful news.
It was good to see Aleks display so much emotion upon seeing Pettinger. Is it because now, he has only one parent? Nicely done, Sandra, with superior, complex sentence structure you do so well.
DeleteThe affinity between father and son is always evident, but none more so than in this offering. Pettinger has so many facets to his character. I am totally enamoured.
Deletea seriously deep instalment, showing us facets of the characters only hinted at in the past.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 207 - Overture And Beginners
ReplyDeletePoppy often believed herself to be part of an amateur dramatic production. No main player, but an extra or understudy or one who operated from the sidelines painting cardboard scenery and organizing theatrical props.
She didn't ponder too much on how she felt removed from the confluence of the Junction and its cast of characters, only a few of whom radiated sufficient substance to appear real in Poppy's eyes. Her sister, Violet, was a constant thorn in her side and the Station Master was a powerful presence, but everyone else...
Except Marmalade, of course.
No denying the existence of Marmalade.
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To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale please visit:
http://www.novareinna.com/cripplegate.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
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Ok, this is unusual. Aren't we all part of some amateur dramatic production? Or is it just me? It almost seems as if a sane person has entered the foray... Go poppy
DeleteI find this fascinating - an important truth masquerading as a musing. And life played as an amateur bit part ... yes, that is very familiar.
DeleteI'm with Sandra on this, truth masquerading as a musing. I often think we're all playing a part in the game of life and wonder when the game is over, what is really the prize. Definitely go Poppy and of course there's no denying the existence of Marmalade!!
DeleteSupply And Demand
ReplyDeleteShe wasn't big on showmanship and conducted dealings with minimal drama. She peddled her wares wherever a confluence of people gathered looking to purchase what she was selling. Business was invariably brisk.
These were cash-in-hand transactions. No deliveries. No deposits. No layaway payments.
Customers could bring their own shopping bags but she also kept a supply of leak-proof plastic-lined cardboard sacks (at an additional charge, of course) for those who preferred the more disposal carrier.
"leak-proof plastic-lined cardboard sacks" eh? In your hands they have the potential for nightmare.
DeleteYou left my mind to conjure images of the contents of the cardboard sack. The images were mostly gruesome, though you didn't indicate so... but still...
Deleteit's the ability to say much without going into graphic detail that makes these one offs so outstanding.
DeleteStop the Week, I Want to Get Off (67)
ReplyDeleteI think the confluence of Shaun’s personality and mine is what has made the shop the (limited) success that it is. People come to talk and don’t find cardboard assistants, but real people. There’s drama aplenty when they get talking… currently in overload from furniture with yet more to come, a ‘vintage’ bedroom suite from the 70s. No, no, no, the 70s were last year! It doesn’t sound ‘old’, not to me anyway. The remembrance window is next, the poppy appeal is launched on the 25th. And so the year slips away, the moment that’s over, it’s Christmas!
When I was young, I had an aunt who was a window dresser at C&A...if anyone in the Mother Country remembers THAT store. I always found her displays fascinating and the same can be said when you describe what will be seen through your shop windows. I'm with you when it comes to the 70s, Antonia. They're sure only a breath away in the past.
DeleteYesterday's paper said 1978 was the unhappiest year in living memory. It was also the year child #3 was born. I remember it well.
DeleteAnd when I was at school a window dresser at C&A was several girls ambition (they still have them in Germany)
Nice, Antonia. I sure would enjoy visiting your shop if it wasn't such a long drive. I still have a couple pieces from my 70's bedroom set. They made them good and strong then.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (126)
ReplyDeleteAnd so the drama continues, with this and that stopping the actual withdrawal. That confluence should never have been allowed to take place in the first instance, then this fiasco would not be happening. More cardboard is needed for signs for people to flash before the cameras. Waste of resources, time and energy. No one cares about individuals, you are all treated as one whole that exists as a source of revenue when this tax and that needs to be increased without there being a reckoning as to why it is needed. Someone should ask why.
I wonder, if the "why" question were answered, if anyone would fully understand the answer. I'm sure it would probably be disguised in the usual political hogwash that we're all so used to hearing.
DeleteI think a politician's greatest talent is the ability to endlessly skate around a yes or no question. I liked the part about more cardboard being needed for signs.
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Eighty Two) - "Who Are You? Who, Who, Who, Who?"
ReplyDeleteThe identity of the cricket ball retriever, after Benny Jester hit a rocket into the stands for six, was a dramatic and gob-smacking reveal. The kerfuffling confluence of onlookers parted in a state of shock and confusion.
Baggy pantaloons, gigantic shoes and overflowing pockets of balloons.
All distinctive trademarks.
There were questioning murmurs of "Capers?"
Surely this must be a cardboard cutout or blow-up doll!
Capers the Clown had already been dispatched to that Great Grimaldi Grind Show in the sky, his cremated remains laid to rest. Only his siblings knew where.
But if this were not Capers, then who?
---------------------------------------------------------
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: Benny Jester and Capers the Clown have both featured in previous episodes.
Oh no. This is a hand over ears/eyes episode. Kindly remove the clown, simulacrum or otherwise.
Delete[The above is intended as a joke - not a site-host instruction!!]
DeleteA Capers wannabe? Or a resurrection? My bet is on the latter. Good one, Patricia. Loved the song reference in the title.
DeletePhew. Thank you, Sandra. For a while there I feared I'd broken the rules and got myself a warning. :)
DeleteIs Capers back? If so, watch out, world...
ReplyDeletegreat instalment, Patricia!