As usual I began going through the week’s
entries, making a note of potential
winners . Stopped myself when I realised it included every one. So,
this week John gets a mention for
his Bray Chronicles, all the more impressive for his saying he ‘couldn’t do’
serials. That second episode was a fine example of the several vignettes we
were treated to, all magically creating unease without spelling it out. Patricia’s ‘Supply and demand ‘ a good
example of that. Jim’s ‘The battle’
up-ended expectations and David’s ‘Such big eyes you have’ a vivid
modern upending of an old tale.
And since I cannot split the four of you, and am as
admiring as ever of Antonia’s weekly
tale, I’m declaring every one a winner this week. Well done and thank you all
for the richest of writings and caring-est of comment.
Words
for next week: innocent lodge uncover
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday 23th October,
words posted Friday 24th
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 to everyone. Let's have a back patting party.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations to everyone and I just wanted to say on a personal level, I consider Sandra included in last week's list of winners cos I'm not sure that she included herself.
DeleteA hearty "Way-To-Go" to all for last week's entries!
DeleteCongrats everyone!
Deletecongrats to all and thanks for being persistent, loyal and ever supportive. It means a lot.
DeleteThe Bray Chronicles
ReplyDeleteBartholomew Bray stared at the unfamiliar face in the hotel mirror. Since the uncovering in the Nigerian hut, he’d been amazed. He was now just an innocent tourist, free to roam the streets of Casablanca without fear of facial recognition.
So many Moroccans, he thought, so many of them young and virile and oh so delicious. He stopped himself when his tongue practically lodged itself into the back his throat. Sometimes he really could get carried away.
He checked his watch. Almost time for the West African Boys’ Choir to rehearse.
This man will haunt one's dreams. Horribly fascinating
DeleteTruly horrifying that he can now wander unnoticed, though given his appetites I doubt it will be for long.
Deletehorror filled instalment, brilliant use of the prompts!
DeleteSuch an enjoyable continuation. This Bartholomew certainly comes with a lot of character, albeit not all necessarily desirable.
DeleteSuch Big Eyes You Have (Part Two)
ReplyDeleteAt sunrise they found an abandoned SS hunting lodge. Swastikas draped the walls. Silk stockings and bondage accessories littered the bed.
Unsure what exactly they had uncovered Kurt shivered as his wulven pelt fell away. She wrapped him in a blanket and winked. “Remember my Grandmama.”
He pulled her close and squeezed her buttocks. “You were so innocent back then.”
“Not so now.”
She pushed him to the bed. Bombs were falling. The walls juddered. The bed creaked. Slowly the forest came creeping and formed a briar fortress to protect their lover’s union.
Such a magical feel to this, David - with a little kick. If I were a Netflix producer, I'd be saying to myself... hmm.
DeleteYe gods, someone should've told me this was how it ended YEARS ago! And yes, what John says, about the magical kick.
DeleteI loved the imagery of the creeping forest creating a protective briar fortress. What handy magic that would be!
Deleteimages and nastiness combined, like it.
DeleteI think I'd be careful were I the wolf.
DeleteSuch atmosphere associated with this. I always knew Red Riding Hood was nowhere near as naive as she was portrayed. Who knows what else she used to carry in that basket?
DeleteModus Operandi
ReplyDeleteShe was the very picture of blue-eyed, blonde-haired innocence. No jury in the world would convict her. But counsel stood ready to lodge an appeal on her behalf just in case. Wasn't necessary.
Investigations had petered out and no evidence had been uncovered. The fact she stood in the dock at all was purely circumstantial. Wrong place. Wrong time. She walked away a free woman and decided to change her methodology.
Poison in the porridge had became rather old hat.
I like how the golden-haired girl is going to change her MO rather than cease in her wrong doings. Not too many eat porridge anymore anyway. Really nice wording, Patricia. Very enjoyable read.
DeleteThree entries in, and I'm feeling well outclassed. So well told.
DeleteSounds like we'd all better stay out of her way. I'd hate to think what nastiness she'll get up to next. Clever story!
Deleteyes, very clever story. Liked this a lot.
DeleteJohn, the supermarkets are busy selling porridge still!!
A crafty criminal adapts, just as this blue-eyed killer plans to do. Very nicely done, Patricia!
DeleteFinger Food
ReplyDeleteIn search of suitable lodging, Brandi began to lower her standards as it got later. She pulled into Wild Felipe’s Inn.
“We’re booked,” Felipe said, eyes afire. “It’s the damn bull fights. No rooms anywhere.”
A short distance down the dusty road, she pulled into Pepe’s Pit Stop. Innocent enough, she thought.
“We’re booked,” Pepe said, uncovering a dish of something deep fried.
“What is that?” Brandi said, wrinkling her nose.
“Rocky Mountain Oysters, from yesterday’s bullfight.” He popped one into his mouth.
“I would think bull balls would be larger.”
“Well,” said Pepe. “The bull, he sometimes wins.”
Very clever, John. No sense letting a good pair of balls go to waste!
DeleteJohn, your imagination knows no bounds it seems - wonderfully fertile ...
DeleteClever and cringe-inducing haha. At the beginning I was staring to worry about her safety (serial killer hotel hosts??) after 'Brandi began to lower her standards as it got later.' :)
Deletenow that one's worth reading twice for the wonderful ending!
DeleteThis was wonde3rful. I love the comment that "The bull, he sometimes wins." How utterly depraved.
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Eighty Three) - "Airy-Fairy"
ReplyDeleteThe innocence of Capers regarding the demise of little Lucy Pepperdyne had never been proved or disproved, but it was generally believed the clown guilty of the nefarious deed.
This was no more apparent than the certainty lodged in Mrs. Pepperdyne's heart, once she accepted her daughter would never again return home...a fact initially beyond her comprehension.
Thus, when the shrinking crowd uncovered a familiar buffoon holding aloft a cricket ball, Mrs. Pepperdyne took action. Removing a mother-of-pearl pin from her straw sun hat, she drove it into the jugular of the cavorter, who immediately deflated like a punctured balloon.
--------------------------------------------------------
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: Capers the Clown, little Lucy Pepperdyne and her mother, Mrs. Pepperdyne, have all featured in previous episodes.
Capers deflating like a punctured balloon brings my mind to wonder if he were ever real. At least she went for the jugular.
DeleteThree cheers for Mrs. Pepperdyne!!!
DeleteI thought you'd enjoy seeing a clown get his just desserts, Sandra.
DeleteNever did trust clowns. Striking imagery with that final line.
Deletedefinitely a fine instalment. And the end of another clown...
DeleteTHE VERDICT
ReplyDeleteThe crime I was accused of was heinous – two junkie whores were cleaved open like slaughterhouse cattle and their insides scattered helter-skelter around a seedy hotel room. I was arrested in the lobby despite my cries of innocence and a lack of damning evidence.
I stood for the verdict.
“On the charge of murder in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant not guilty.”
I smirked smugly and accepted a hug from my lawyer, whose breath smelled like something long dead had lodged in his throat. “You think,” he whispered, “the truth will ever be uncovered?”
I smiled.
It's very disturbing that it appears he got away with it. That lawyer isn't very ethical either. Good writing of scoundrel characters.
DeleteNasty pieces of work indeed ... but neither does it appear he DID do it ...
DeleteVery disturbing and if the character is 'innocent', what is he getting up to with his lawyer?
Deleteit's the sort of reaction my ex used to get when he was working for a particularly nefarious firm of solicitors who represented people like the Krays and the Great Train Robbers. This scenario would fit well in that situation!
DeleteVery nastily composed and that is meant as a high compliment.
DeleteFor The Good
ReplyDeleteWe are entrusted with the task of uncovering evil.
Ferreting out the ungodly wherever it may lodge and proliferate.
We are unstoppable.
We are relentless.
Orders are orders.
Does fulfillment of our directive entail the spilling of innocent blood?
Of course, but...
Collateral damage.
The fighters of evil have an evil streak it seems. Kind of scary to think about, this is.
DeleteTomorrow a couple of American writers, originally met on-line, are coming to stay. Without wishing to be rude (but being realistic) I'd be very wary of suggesting any sort of Prediction gathering, despite how good a writer so many of you are. And this a perfect illustration of the reason why.
DeleteWhat are you trying to tell me, Sandra? Hmmm...?
DeleteA Prediction gathering? What a jamboree that would be. I promise to behave.
DeleteChilling, and it speaks to something grand and fascinating.
Delete@Sandra haha there is many a tale of murder in our challenge.
Evil, it was said by someone, begets evil. A good example here.
Deleteone of your short succinct pieces, Patricia, that say far more than is on screen. And leave some dark thoughts behind them.
DeleteHospitality [Threshold 274]
ReplyDeleteWe slept the sleep of satiation. Woke early to hunger.
In a kitchen lit by the gibbous moon Victoria’s mother, face innocent of condemnation of our black and white pairing – ignorant perhaps of its nature (even though it was evident in the very languor of our movements) – lifted silver-domes and uncovered a breakfast whose pungency and appearance was far superior to most guest lodgings.
She spoke no language we could understand but indicated Wishbone had been stabled and cared for.
‘Victoria?’ I asked, ‘And her four friends?’
A shrug of ignorance. More smiling.
I chose not to mention the ceiling.
Leave it to an English woman to come up with such eloquent English. (Is English woman appropriate?) The very first and the very last sentences are superb and almost tell the story by themselves. Very nice, Sandra.
DeleteVery atmospheric and I love how Victoria's mother doesn't say anything and yet her actions speak volumes. Of course, given the other stories this week I can't help but think this line 'A shrug of ignorance. More smiling' sounds a touch sinister. :)
Deletedefinitely echoing Holly's comment on this, atmospheric indeed!
DeleteHad to chuckle at: "I chose not to mention the ceiling." Something about that just really struck home with me.
DeleteChange of focus [349]
ReplyDeleteTears lodging in his own throat, John Pettinger held his son tight, painfully aware that even the moment of his conception lacked innocence; his mother successful in her intent to cuckold the man she was about to marry. He’d never lived other than in danger; Valdeta flitting from bed to bed, evading (as each was uncovered) the punishment she undoubtedly deserved.
Until now.
Aleks did not know the perpetrator: ‘It could be one of many.’ Adult knowledge not fitting for the head of an eleven-year-old.
No more than his uncovering her slashed and bloody body.
And that of her daughter.
A nice homecoming, to be sure. It's good to be reminded of some of the things Aleks, and Pettinger have endured, both in the know of danger aplenty.
DeleteA sad and lingering piece, especially with the line 'Adult knowledge not fitting for the head of an eleven-year-old.'
DeleteI loved the phrase 'flitting from bed to bed.' How well it captures Valdeta's promiscuity.
Deletefull of images of horror and evil. Nice one!
DeletePoor Aleks, but he is lucky to have a father like Pettinger in his life.
DeleteKeeping the Peace (Shepherdess #10)
ReplyDeleteTucking the Soulstones inside her vest, Haera shut her mind against their whispers and led Dathasha back to the Golden Wren, a pleasure lodge on the city’s eastern edge. The main hall was loud and overcrowded with the arrival of the entire Kethan Deathguard. Dressed in black and bristling with weapons, the wary peacekeepers were watching the Twelve as they flirted and gambled with the other guests.
Esdras uncovered his head and waved Haera over to a corner booth.
Sitting, Haera released Moses. “They’re being reckless.”
“They deserve some innocent fun before we break the world. Where did you go?”
Read the previous episodes here.
I think innocent fun at the Golden Wren would be anything but innocent. What a sight that would be to see the Twelve arrive at such a place. Nice one, Holly.
DeleteThat final two lines so telling, and promising of more.
DeleteSuch clear, vivid use of language in your first paragraph, Holly. A pleasure to read.
Deleteimages again, this week there are a lot of mind blowing images. How do you all do that?
DeleteThis is so reminiscent of a folktale or mythical fable. Or, at the very least, a wonderful trip into the realm of fantasy. I'm becoming rather fond of Moses.
DeleteThank you everyone!
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 208 - Hamnet The Hapless
ReplyDeleteHamnet, in naive innocence, uncovered the enigma that was Cripplegate by simply delivering supplies on behalf of Elsie's Dairy.
Discombobulated, young Hamnet accepted the fact he'd probably lost his job (along with his trolley) and Miss Elsie would surely refuse to provide him a reference now...assuming he wasn't somehow lodged at the Junction anyway and could eventually get home. He'd already tried unsuccessfully to leave.
Perhaps the chugging engine was Hamnet's means of escape?
"Impossible," stated the Station Master, tone sympathetic. "Since you did not arrive by train, you will not be permitted to depart in that fashion."
--------------------------------------------------------
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.
----------------------------------------------------------
Station master wields his whip again and poor Hamnet the loser.
Deletelocked in the station - forever? or is there some fiendish way of getting out?
DeleteEven if the Stationmaster hadn't stepped in, I don't think Hamnet would have gotten away on the train as the damn thing never seems to go anywhere. In case that sounded like a complaint, I can assure you I enjoy every second of this story, Patricia.
DeleteOh, John. Your comments make me chuckle almost as much as your splendid stories.
DeleteI'm very curious what Hamnet will do next if he can't find a way to leave! Cripplegate is definitely a delightful enigma. :)
DeleteCutting A Deal
ReplyDelete"And you uncovered this where?"
"Beneath the floor of the rooming house where I am currently lodging."
"What made you look there?"
"The boards creaked every time I took a step."
"Did you inform the landlady of your find?"
"No, possession being nine points of the law and all."
"Quite. Quite. Doesn't look like it was intended for innocent purposes."
"Probably not."
"I can give you three guineas for it."
"Taken!"
"And your name?"
"You can just call me Jack."
So many directions this could go... all enticing
DeleteOk, I'm dense. Who is Jack? Other than not getting it, the writing is fun and lively.
DeleteOooo I love the back and forth dialogue and the fact that the person he's talking to is willing to buy whatever the item is, is highly suspicious.
DeleteAnother piece which sends the reader's mind soaring!
ReplyDeletethe mind whirls with images and thoughts after this one!
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (68)
ReplyDeleteThe rain keeps falling and Autumn this year has managed to disappear in a flurry of brown and soggy leaves and problems. If it isn’t colds; it’s twisted ankles, Shaun fell out of the van. I say no more… I pretend innocence when it comes to men and their ability to create havoc in people’s lives. He’s been out today to see what he could uncover while I stacked up more calls which could lead to more possible purchases to lodge in the overcrowded shop. The windows look good, the shop looks crowded, I look forward to selling it all…
There's no accounting for the trouble men can find themselves in and cause havoc for others by simply existing. Your weather description reminds me of past Guy Fawkes Nights when the smell of smoke and upcoming winter was heavy in the air.
DeleteYeah, but what would you women do without us. You'd get so bored, it would be unbearable. And vice versa.
DeleteThe leaves in Michigan are brilliant this year. We had that early browning, wet fall last year. I'm sure the crowded shop is a delightful place.
Luckily we still have quite a few gold and red leaves here, but they'll turn to brown soon enough. Oh dear, turned ankles are never fun.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (127)
ReplyDeleteI divert this week, politics having become a bore and ask, have you seen the news of the exhibition of my works? In my innocence I thought it would be easy to stage but with objections lodged by countries, especially Italy, it has taken ten years to showcase my genius. The new rays uncover the layers, there is much to see and marvel at and I have been doing just that, walking the corridors and admiring the exhibits. I am grateful to Her Majesty the Queen for donating more obscure works, ones I had forgotten. For once I am content.
What? What? Some of Leonardo's more obscure works are now available for public viewing? There truly is no place like London.
DeleteThis is wonderful. I can see the Italian wandering the halls and checking out the exhibits. Heaven help the one who labels something wrong.
DeleteThat does sound like something amazing to see! It would be strange to return after death and witness your work displayed in some fashion. I often wonder which of my stories will survive me after I'm gone.
Delete