Patricia’s comment about how far we’ve come since or
beginnings her sent me searching for my first effort, back in February 2011.
Entitled ‘Bastard, it ran to just 54 words: “He had coached her, not wisely,
except in his own self-interest, but too well, and when her third “I’m late”
was said too late, and the grey of his eyes changed as speedily as the Irish
weather, from promise to perdition, she knew to jump. Into the outgoing,
grey-green, full moon, Spring solstice tide.”
I ran away after this
– the competition was hugely
daunting! – only to creep back, already addicted, later in the year.
Somehow, several of you misinterpreted my selection of
winner for last week as David and not Jim – apologies for not making it
clear, The final nomination of 2019, as difficult a choice as ever, but because
I’ve always had a soft spot for Hamnet, is Patricia’s ‘Hamnet’s Quandry‘,
but I hope all you regulars know how much your immense contribution to this
site is appreciated – thank you and may 2020 be as enjoyable.
I hadn’t intended to set words for next week, but if
desired, have a go with my very first-encountered
prompt
words – Irish, coach, tide.
First
words for 2020 entries: feint northern opt
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday 2nd January,
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.
Patricia, congrats on the call out for the top spot last week. A well written story.
ReplyDeleteWay to go, Patricia. I'm not surprised.
DeleteLast week, I was one of the people who mistakenly left Jim out of my congratulations post. My bad. It was pretty clear but I somehow misread it. Belated congrats, Jim.
Yours was no doubt the best selection for last week's grand prize, Patricia. Congrats!
Deletecongrats, Patricia!
DeleteMERRY CHRISTMAS to all my incredibly talented writing friends.
DeleteThe Night Before Christmas
ReplyDeleteSanta's lists, decorated with snow globes, green and red.
Presents were added, while others removed.
The misses brings steaming Irish hot chocolate, to husband so dear.
"Here you are, Old Saint Nick," she says with a smile.
"Surprises many, it's been with you, my dear.”
“Who else would place mistletoe toe above me, every year?"
The portly old man, yawned and stretched, inside his red coach.
"Both lists are done, I can fly with the tide."
"Remember my dear, that this year we switched.
Parents you have, all ready to go,
the little ones are mine,
to cuddle and hold."
It's good to see Mr. and Mrs. Clause getting along so well.
DeleteAh... the rewards of cooperation. I enjoyed the single-sentence approach, Jeffrey.
DeleteNicely done, Jeffrey. And in keeping with the season.
DeleteNot Again
ReplyDeleteNews of Bartholomew Bray’s suicide traveled through Moroccan-American communities like the Irish tide. People took to the streets and cheered.
Hanan Hasan took delight in his own way in that he was responsible for tagging the cadavers at the morgue where the killer was sent.
Unzipping the appropriate body bag and preparing to urinate into Bray’s mouth, he was shocked to find the body of a portly gray-haired woman.
“That’s a nice package you have in your hand,” a voice coached from the shadows. “Perhaps I’ll keep it as a souvenir.”
Oh dear ... a more than spine-tingling moment for Hanan Hasan. (and a 'phew' of relief from me)
Deletegood one, John, you're excelling with this serial!
DeleteSo, the prurient life of Bartholomew continues. I sorta suspected that. Well crafted, John.
DeleteBartholomew is a bad guy, apparently. Like Elric. He might have a penchant for collecting mementos from his victim's like a tourist does from where they visit. Enjoyable series, even if I didn't start from the beginning.
DeleteI knew there was no way Bartholomew would commit suicide. I wonder what happened to that Moroccan boy who purloined the gun. Great continuation!
DeleteThank you so much for that high honour last week, Sandra. Do I understand it correct that (if we so choose) we can do a total of two tales per set of prompt words this week....or is our challenge to incorporate all six prompt words into the one story? The latter certainly would be some challenge...!!!
ReplyDeleteNever thought of using all six in one! As far as I did think it was along the lines of Irish, coach tide being just for fun (and for those who might suffer withdrawal symptoms next week), then feint, northern, opt to be judged on the 3rd January. I am unlikely to be around much next week.
DeleteHmmm....are we up to such a challenge, I wonder.
DeleteMaybe a 200 word story with all six words? Heck, if Sandra's not around, we can get away with anything.
DeleteSorry John. Rules is rules. No more than 100 words.
DeleteDang, busted again...
DeleteChallenge??
ReplyDeleteChilled by my over-long exposure to the northern wind, the steamy interior of this grotty-on-the-outside café felt like heaven. Opting for the Irish stew a no brainer. Followed that with treacle tart and custard, thinking I’d earned it and had begun to doze over my cup of tea when the door burst open and a tide of ancient grannies burst in. A coach party. Last thing I needed, they looked – mauve cardigans, perms and pearls – the sort that’d start singing any minute.
But first the loo. I tricked them by feinting in the wrong direction. Then got there first.
Pure entertainment, this was. Get to the loo before the blue-hairs is recommended to be sure. Hopefully, they won't sing.
Deleteoh what fun!
DeleteVery descriptive writing, had me seeing this in my mind and smelling the stew. Good that you brought in multiple senses.
DeleteLovely little tale. The idea of a "grotty-on-the-outside café" brought back many memories. Some of the best places to eat look "grotty" from outside. "Treacle tart and custard." Ye gods, has been years since I've dug my spoon into such a treat.
DeleteChange of focus [357]
ReplyDeleteJake Cherriman, an Aussie with the charm of a Northern Irish tinker met only after Pettinger had bedded his woman. The tide of guilt all the greater for his currently being involved in investigating her parents’ murder. And then she – Sally-Ann Hopgood – had been found dead.
Worse was to come.
Jake, it appeared, had opted into some scam run by Pettinger’s Khakbethian kin. Incestuous twins Goren and Gunita had coached him in their wicked ways, the two of them evading capture as skilfully as a master swordsman feints and parries. He’d buried Jake once. Only to see him come alive.
Jake, after surviving somehow, and then being coached by the incestuous twins, will be a force to be reckoned with, both physically and emotionally.
Deletewhoo, what a final line there, leaving it open to any manner of continuations.
DeleteComing back to life is never a good thing. Some well done narration in this story, Sandra.
DeleteIncestuous twins AND Pettinger in one story. Now that's a combination worthy of more than one perusal.
DeleteEvery silver lining … [Threshold 282]
ReplyDeleteAs Raven had coached me in the ways he loved and wanted to be loved: an Irish kind of logic, both opting for trickery, feinting from my every approach, he simultaneously taught me stoicism. A hard-held northern ability to withstand every blow, keep my balance as the tide of his rejection threatened to sweep me off my feet.
But the three days that followed the night beneath the remnants of the apple orchard softened my defences, melted my ability to withstand his irrational mood swings, until, observing, judging it complete, he took full advantage. And left. Taking both horses.
I have to confess, today the writing muse has been well and truly with me - I was up at 5 and had written 1200 words by half six. Doesn't often happen like that so I struck while the iron was hot!
And ye gods, are we appreciative that you did...!!!
DeleteThat Raven is a deep guy. I must disagree with his logic at leaving and taking both horses. Not many women would put up with that.
DeleteHow you managed three stories, each with 6 prompt words, makes my head hurt to think about attempting. Nicely done.
this is good, sharp, knife like sentences, fitting the mood well.
DeleteRaven never came across as a heart breaker. He did what was necessary, regardless of circumstances. At least that's how I remember him in previous stories. Yes, a hearty congratulations for using all six prompts.
DeleteDidn’t We Have a Lovely Time?
ReplyDeleteThe tide came in. Swallowed the sand. Illuminations flickered on the promenade. Laden with sticks of lettered rock a clutch of weary day trippers clambered onto their coach.
The driver put on a track banned by the BBC. Give Ireland Back to the Irish by Paul McCartney and Wings. He counted off his passengers. It wouldn’t do to leave anyone behind in 1972.
All present and accounted for.
‘All aboard the charabanc,’ he announced. ‘Destination back to the future.’
The air crackled with static. High on nostalgia everyone whooped for joy as the coach swirled into the wormhole.
This gets creepier with each successive read, but I'm not sure how you've managed that.
DeleteLoved: high on nostalgia. What a trip that would have been. Very enjoyable, David.
Deleteoh I like this, right down to the politically correct removal of the McCartney song and all... clever story.
DeleteA time traveling carriage, what a great idea. Though it would be a wonderful story if a passenger was left behind. Dave, you've very good use of the prompts and a very good story.
DeleteMagnificent piece with so much to pin a reference on. This surely must be Blackpool...or something very similar. I haven't heard the word "charabanc" in years. For some reason, I always associated it with "blancmange." I really don't know why. As I said above, this was magnificently composed.
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Eighty Eight)
ReplyDelete"The Mysterium Manuscripts/Part One"
Excerpt from documents found in The Mysterium.
Seasoned travellers opted to transport amusements and curiosities...a colourful parade of coaches, wagons and caravans...along a Northern route from Cork to Dublin, where the company crossed the Irish Sea on the next favourable tide.
Competition was fierce and cutthroat. Many promoters in the region had similar aspirations and attempted to drive the newly-arrived operation out of business. But employing highly successful feints and distractions...to say nothing of superior attractions and a certain undefinable mystic charm...business thrived and the Kursaal survived while others fell by the wayside.
This was not entirely unexpected.
-------------------------------------------------------
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: This is an attempt to use six given prompt words within one self-contained 100-word tale
The Kuraal definitely has a leg up on the competition. Real magic beats pomp and illusion any day. Nice, Patricia.
DeleteA very smooth and successful attempt, much enjoyed.
Deletegood one, Patricia, I hardly noticed the prompts, they slid in so easily, so yes, you can do it!
DeleteYou writers with your excellent six prompt stories and me struggling to use three. Very good use of the prompts and the ebb and flow of business success and failure, this story being a very well done success.
DeleteSiblings
ReplyDeleteThe semi-pro dodgeballer from Northern Uzbekistan feinted left and right before being struck with a ball thrown by a Thailander. He carefully set his unthrown ball on the mat and walked off, opting for medical attention.
The trainer honored his request for an x-ray, despite seemingly perfect health. As the ambulance pulled away, the stadium erupted into flames.
“What the hell was that!” the medic said.
“God is great!” he said, before slitting her throat.
“Take me to the airport,” he said to the driver. “And perhaps you’ll live.”
“May a yak piss in your tea,” his brother said, smiling.
I didn't expect that last line! The rest of it was pure horror writing, then the offbeat, off the wall last line. Brilliant!
DeleteGood opening and excellent last line. The moral being the end justifies the means. A very enjoyable story with memorable dialogue.
Delete'May a yak piss in your tea' is classic, John. With your permission, I'm going to use that line.
DeleteI would have know this to be one of yours even if your name hadn't been up there at the top, John. There's no mistaking your out-of-the-box entries, which are thoroughly enjoyable I might add.
DeleteJim, feel free to use the yak piss line, if a situation arises that calls for it...
DeleteSparkling and surreal!
DeleteSome of Shaun’s Irish charm was missing during the pre-Christmas run up, too much cooking, too much changing of rooms, but a sort of tidal wave of ‘new’ stock arrived, he had cleared the spare bedroom… of course some of it wants work, doesn’t it always? He needs coaching on time management but – it’s probably too late for change. Meantime I long for the holiday to be done, so I can get back to work and all its challenges. It’s too easy to fall asleep over a book (or Kindle) and not get exercise. Roll on New Year!
ReplyDeleteAntonia, another shared slice of your life, marvelously crafted. My wife has made similar comments about some of my habits. Using the prompts in a fantasy story seems easier than in a nonfiction story.
DeleteShaun's Irishness really came in handy for that prompt word. I'm glad you had new stock come it... very important in your line of work. I agree that it's probably too late to introduce time management. A very theoretical concept, that time management.
DeleteThe end of the year always comes with a degree of laziness I've found. The idea of a New Year tends to be inspirational with a promise of hope. I too have a Kindle but find there's nothing quite like the feel of a bound book in one's hands. Once again, a delightful insight into the world of this little shop and its wonders.
DeleteWell, it's just about all over now, isn't it? And here we go again!
DeleteThe Mad Italian (136)
ReplyDeleteThe royal coach conveyed the Queen, the tide of patriotic flag waving not quite as pronounced, but Parliament reconvened, the Brexit bill was passed, the PM could look back on a time of great risk which he survived and came out with that smile which we will see much of in the coming months. He has the luck of the Irish, gambling on one of the greatest games there is, politics. Meantime the world continues with accidents and murders and I wonder why, in all these centuries since I walked on your side of life, that nothing has changed.
Lovely how you blended the prompts into this story. My thought would be that people repeat themselves so that history repeats itself. Thank you for sharing these truly wonderful vignettes.
DeleteThe Italian in full retrospect mode is a priceless thing. Of course, he's had a lot of time to perfect it. Here's to a fresh decade.
DeleteLeonardo is indeed reflective this week and his comments are as always an insightful glimpse into the present day world...perhaps not so different from his remembrance of days in many respects.
DeleteSafe and Happy Holidays to all Predictioners. I will return later this week with comments and possibly a few stories.
ReplyDeleteThe Cambion Proposal: #4
ReplyDelete“Lathark, indulge me in several games of Irish? It’s like Backgammon but doubles are like any other roll. Then I’ll coach you in the flowing tides of how we’ll make love.”
“I’m game for both.”
Dawn’s light woke them, as they lay naked across the bed.
“Melthane, you’re a very enjoyable and remarkable young lady. You have what you paid for.”
“Wait, I’d like to ask for another thing.”
“I’m listening.”
“May I have my child for some time before you return?”
“I’m not without heart. For ten years but you’ll only have eyes for the child and love.”
I don't blame Lathark for waiting a while before taking the child. Might as well get all the rearing completed. It strikes me though, that Lathark might be coming back for his own child, provided their lovemaking resulted in conception. Will be interesting to see what transpires.
DeleteThis Lathark is indeed a strange sort. What lies ahead for him should be very interesting.
DeleteYet another intriguing dialogue driven piece. This Lathark is a very interesting character.
DeleteTHE GAME
ReplyDeleteThe Irish faced the Crimson Tide,
Stellar jocks were on each side.
Neither team had lost this year,
The better one remained unclear.
Each had a coach of great acclaim,
But only one can win this game.
The whistle blew, the game began,
Soon blood was seen upon each man.
Each sprang out at the snap of the ball,
To struggle, to battle, to grapple, to fall.
Each gave his all and never gave in,
The only goal each had was a win.
Yet despite how every man had tried,
When the whistle blew, the game was tied
JD, this is a nice, catchy poem. I enjoyed it and read it several times. Thanks for creating and sharing.
DeleteWho says it's only a game? Definitely not the players in this case. Very enjoyable, Jim.
DeleteAlways such a delight to see the rhyming word here. It doesn't happen anywhere near often enough. This came with a beautiful flow and entertaining storyline.
DeleteI shall hopefully return with more comments and perhaps a tale or two before the deadline...assuming my fickle mouse pointer can hang around long enough for me to maneuver the forum. Damn thing keeps either freezing or disappearing on me altogether. I fear it's naught but a symptom of a much more fatalistic problem.
ReplyDeleteBump in the Night
ReplyDeleteThe sound of the creaking Northern Red Oak floorboards startled her awake.
“Jim,” she whispers as she shakes her sleeping husband.
“Someone’s in the house.”
"You mean besides the two of us? Okay, I'll check out the noise."
Downstairs in the living room, Jim saw a crystal ball on the table, with a dull purple glow. That's when he remembered the séance his wife had and that he’d opted out of. The widow curtains fluttered but that was a feint. Someone moved a chair at the table. A female voice said,
“Sit Jim; who the fuck is Mary?”
Jim, it seems, should have stayed put. I'm very curious as to what will next happen, Jeffrey.
DeleteIt sounds as if this intruder is jealous of Mary. I'm hoping this is the start of a larger work and we find out more. Very intriguing Jeffrey, and a great start for a wild ride.
DeleteGreat lead in for what would prove to be a very interesting serialization, should you decide to continue with the tale, Jeffrey.
DeleteTRUE LOVE
ReplyDeleteI struggled for composure before I spoke.
“The most profound love ever expressed since time began cannot compete with the love I have for my wife, Detective Morrow. Total the purest examples of love ever shown by man to woman; they’d be feeble feints of my love for her. The stunning allure of the Northern Lights pales to insignificance when compared to the unrivaled beauty and elegance of that enchanting woman, my… my wife.”
My voice broke. I cried uncontrollably.
The kindly detective waited until I pulled myself together before asking, “Really? Then why did you opt to kill her?”
Sounds as if the perp waited too long to realize how much he loved his wife. But then, some show their love differently. Really good stuff, Jim.
DeletePassion leads many to say the wrong things or maybe do the wrong thing. Good story, JD.
Deleteinteresting ideas here, nice one.
DeleteVery interesting scenario. Regret is obvious and makes me wonder the reason for the crime.
DeleteThank goodness for kindly detectives!
DeleteGetting Brexit Done
ReplyDeleteTo reward the constituents who had voted for them the Government created a voluntarily opt out from every aspect of employment law.
With no minimum wage or health and safety regulations the Chinese and Russians invested heavily in the Northern powerhouse. Full zero-hour employment for all.
In a thinly disguised feint towards solving the poverty which ensued Poor Houses were reintroduced. The homeless and destitute could spend every waking hour soldering circuitry in exchange for austere board and lodgings.
It was a golden age. Everyone went back to accepting their lot. The rich got richer. Nothing trickled down.
Dave an good story about how politics make for strange bedfellows.
DeleteGolden age, indeed, David, and many around the world believe this type golden age is on the horizon. Very clever!
Deletethis gives a whole different view to the Brexit problems, like it...
DeleteVery clever piece and reads almost Dickensonian in its scenario.
DeleteOoh, I almost missed this one. Clever little innuendos abound here. Still waiting for the trickle down...
DeleteSiblings
ReplyDelete“You’re a flawed individual,” the terrorist said to his brother.
“Who chose this safe-house? It’s a pigsty.”
“Your optimism resembles the shit-tide of a Calcutta outhouse.”
“How many infidels died, do you think?”
“Not enough.” The terrorist searched his phone. “920 dead… 33 missing.”
“I almost feel bad for the Irish medic.” His brother suppressed a smile. “Don’t tell Father, but her breasts were like mounds of woven silk.”
“I don’t want to know how you know that.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Where to next?”
“The most infidel infested country on earth, of course.”
“May God be with us,” his brother said.
It is nice to see an all-dialog entry, John, especially one as interesting and well done as this. 'infidel-infested country'... which country might that be?
DeleteMagnificent dialogue-only driven piece. Nicely done, John, revealing yet another string to your multi-talented bow.
DeleteFascinating and mind-soaring.
DeleteLovely line that shit-tide of a Calcutta outhouse. I do wonder if their destination is what we think? The Crusades and religious purity created the Spanish Inquisition. All chuckles about Monty Python not included. Well done story, John.
ReplyDeleteThe Cambion Proposal: #5
ReplyDeleteIn the northern city of Tagzig Olmo, a caravan made ready to leave.
“Khal-Rin, you will be Pasha-Mir,” said Zindar, the Pasha-Mir. “I’m opting out of that role, for this trip. I’m guard captain Rin, I’ll be able to see Xanthos city as it is and find it’s heart.”
“Captain Rin, I understand and will do my best to be the feint you need.”
oOo
King Ruthan worried about the curse afflicting Melthane? She may as well be blind. Only able to see people as various colors and being three weeks pregnant. That was the least of both their problems.
This reads almost mythical in its creation. Intriguing submission indeed.
DeletePatricia and Jim, thanks for keeping up with the series. I greatly appreciate your support and regular comments. The "oOo" comes from another site, an erotica one and indicates a scene/location shift.
DeleteOnly three weeks pregnant... I envision much to come. Happy New Year Jeffrey.
DeleteSeems like increasing dire circumstances await these two, Jeffrey. I'm curious about the oOo. Very nicely done!
ReplyDeleteStop the Week; I Want To Get Off (78)
ReplyDeleteTrade was steady between Christmas and New Year, satisfying even if sometimes a customer’s moves were no more than a feint, handling, then putting it back. We’re used to it but when there are bills to pay, it’s still disappointing. We need to opt out of a yearly bill for the Transit insurance, go monthly, slightly more but easier to find. We’ve not had the usual northern tourist invasion this year, still to come, I guess. Back to normal life, normal work from tomorrow. My two sick cats are on the mend, I can leave them without worry now.
'Tis always amazing how you can so expertly weave the prompt words into a non-fiction piece that constantly entertains and delights. So happy that the kitties are getting better.
DeleteHere's to a new year and many northern tourists, who will take items to the check-out counter instead of just browsing.
DeleteAnd it's only today that it feels like normality for me ... don't know where my mind has been!
DeleteThe Mad Italian (137)
ReplyDeleteWhilst Parliament is having a break, we can take time to consider the PM’s tactics, his feints, his scheming, it all paid off. His problem this coming session will be northern, the Scottish independence referendum is not going away and it isn’t something anyone can opt out of. Meantime, the news is that a Picasso has been maliciously damaged. I saw the painting, if I can truthfully call it that, and understand completely why someone would wish to damage it… did Picasso really have so little regard for the persons viewing his work? Eye strain and headaches…
I wonder what Picasso thought of Leonardo's works? Probably too realistic for his tastes. It's kind of nice when government goes on break.
DeleteYep, it takes a different eye to appreciate Picasso's work. I don't have that eye.
DeleteSo, Leonardo has small regard for the works of Picasso. Somehow, that fails to surprise me. Nice to see our Mad Italian pondering on things other than the political.
ReplyDelete