Apart from the exceptionally rich landscape of entries this week, I was
interested in John's picturing Terrie’s army of SAS armadillos in a
meadow. I’d not previously put it into words, but I see their landscape as an
ancient, sometimes jungly woodland, hillocky, and rocky and covering an area of
several miles. I suspect we’ll each have
our own version which is part of the magic of reading stories (and, for me, one
reason I fail to find film or tv adaptions satisfactory).
This week, the winners leapt out on first read, and
stayed there despite many excellent contenders who halted me but didn’t change
my mind. And as I cannot choose between them I declare Patricia’s
‘Siblings’ and John’s ‘Shot in the dark’ joint winners.
Words
for next week: onus plumage vouch
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday 12th March,
words and winners posted Friday 13th
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.
Well done John and Patricia on two excellent reads, nestled amongst a whole medley of well crafted writing, as top choice for this week.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations John and Patricia, I hope I can keep up with my comments this week.
ReplyDeleteTo be included with Patricia is quite an honor. Those were some nasty siblings.
ReplyDeleteAdd my congratulations to John and Patricia. Well done, you two!
DeleteThank you, Sandra...and second win in a row for John! I am delighted to be riding his coattails.
Deletecongratulations to John and Patricia, great reading, thank you!
DeleteThe Reluctant Hussy
ReplyDeleteThe bailiff, imaginary onus on display, rocked foot to foot. The jury sat forward in their collective seats. The prosecutor drummed his fingers on his chin.
The judge cleared his throat. “Would the defendant rise and remove her top?”
Misty did so.
Outside, reporters mobbed around Misty, who remained silent, vouching for no one.
“How did you get away with it?”
“Did you murder your pimp?”
“Is the prosecutor really in a coma?”
The head hooker stood on the corner, open-mouthed, wispy faux plumage draped over her over-mascaraed eyes.
“I’m ready to apply myself now,” Misty said, dressed to thrill.
Seems like Misty stunned all those in court
DeleteSome very good imagery here and a nice twisty ending.
DeleteThat Misty is a female to be reckoned with, that's for sure!
Deletea most interesting heroine!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteHe began his harvest... brilliant. Or it could be a she, which works too. Nice one, William.
DeleteA digital footprint can be traced. Very well done story, William.
DeleteThis a powerful piece William, a vivid slice of life and excellent continuation.
DeleteWonderfully crafted and so current in its references. "I began my harvest" could be the title for a horror film.
Deletethis is excellent, it captures the arrogance of the young villains and ends with a satisfying feeling that we could all wish we were there sometimes. Last night skateboarders raced up and down outside for nearly an hour, passing by the ceiling to floor windows of the Mediterranean restaurant...
DeleteI'll add my endorsement to the cacophony of others for last weeks selections. John and Patricia had two very excellent submissions and wholly deserved their joint selection.
ReplyDeleteOnus, plumage, vouch
ReplyDeleteThe Janus Door IV
The soldiers responded. By Mars, they're acting like soldiers.
Vibius looked for Caseo and saw him sitting against the altar.
"Caseo, you've got to be more careful. Mother placed the onus on me to take care of you."
"You're an equestrian, not a comedian." as he took the rag off his head. "The bleeding has stopped. I’ll vouch that your bad humor reminds me I'm alive."
"Caseo, look outside, it's daytime."
"Did you damage more than the plumage on your helmet? It was daytime when Vesuvius exploded."
"I know. Listen, Vesuvius has stopped, and you can see the blue sky!"
I'm a little concerned about this daylight. I liked how Casio knew he was alive because of his brother's bad comedy.
DeleteWonderfully scripted in dialogue form, which is what you do so well. Love the reference to more damage being done to simply the plumage on a helmet.
DeleteLike John I really liked “I’ll vouch that your bad humor reminds me I'm alive."
ReplyDeleteDressed to kill
ReplyDeleteFollowing your telephoned enquiry I Googled ostrich feathers and was charmed to find adding colour to the magnificent plumage of these birds was termed as both dying and dyeing. Which, technically, I could claim as defence. Mis-spell it in the contract I’d get you to sign, vouching I had your full and unconditional permission, and no blame could be laid; the onus would be on you.
Plus, dye a few extra – you specified ‘a random selection of colours’ – and I’d have enough to trim the coat I wear to your funeral.
Because I’d only sprinkle yours with fine-ground strychnine.
Maliciously delightful, Sandra! Super final line!
DeleteIt's all in the spelling. Jim described it perfectly: maliciously delightful.
DeleteHow inspirational was the comparison between the two versions of "dying" and "dyeing." And at risk of being duplicative, this was indeed maliciously delightful.
Deletethis was clever writing, as we've come to expect from Sandra... very well depicted.
DeleteFine written piece with evil intent, I wonder if the contract contains a force Majeure clause.
ReplyDeleteOnus, plumage, vouch
ReplyDeleteThe Council of Canossa 3: The First Dream
“I was walking the countryside of Avignon, watching peasants constructing five wooden houses, but none were of sound build. They commented that death isn’t an onus when it’s viewed as freedom. They cried to me, “Etienne, bring us water, we’re dry and parched.”
I went to the well. A message was scrawled on it. “Vouchsafe that the water is good, though the well is poisoned.”
There was a field covered with birds, next to the well. The noise of my using the crank, made them take flight. I saw the visage of St. Francis in their colorful plumage.”
Your first sentence is really well done; sets a nice tone for this. The visage in the birds' plumage is very intriguing.
DeleteA piece full of engaging nuance , can’t wait for the next installment
DeleteVery visual, Jeffrey. This was one of your best in terms of descriptions I think.
DeleteA marvelous use of the prompt words in this entry, Jeffrey. 'the water is good, though the well is poisoned'... such an intriguing turn of words.
ReplyDeleteIf The Shoe Fits
ReplyDeleteHe knew the onus to find a queen. But neverending horseback treks from hamlet to hamlet searching for a suitable partner played havoc with his royal posterior. His chafed derrière vouched for that. Sole saving grace was the dazzling garb akin to a peacock's plumage that comprised his travelling ensemble.
Initially, the manor house held little promise, but then occupants were brought forth. Eyes sparkled as the slipper was retrieved from his saddlebag. Shapely calves, slim ankles, dainty foot.
No mistake this time!
Unconventional choice? No doubt!
Was Prince Charming enamoured? No doubt!
That Buttons was one fine looking fellow!
And you've done it again! Led me up the wrong path. With wit and sparkles.
DeleteI had to discover what I initially didn't get about your story. Fortunately Google helped. Perhaps that's why Disney didn't have Buttons in their version. Can't make movies parents wouldn't take their kids to. I really do so enjoy a story that I enjoy and learn from. Thanks for this one Patricia.
DeleteApparently a cultural thing, Jeffrey. I apologize for the confusion.
DeleteNot much worse than a chafed derrière, or chafing of any kind in that general area. Nice to see the prince broadening his horizons. Well done, P.
DeleteDandini caused me joyous confusion as a lad, but go buttons. A most excellent write, and a joyous read.
Deletelovely twist! I do like twists on the old tales, this one is a delight.
DeleteChange of focus 367
ReplyDeleteRelief played peek-a-boo with guilt and tiredness, like an over-used stripper’s ostrich plumage attempting to vouch for her desirability. As successfully and, at times, as tawdry as his taking on the onus of fatherhood.
He needed a long-term solution. Thirteen too dangerous an age to inculcate self-responsibility. Trustworthiness. Aleks’ street-cred too different a brand; he’d seen men kill. Seen lawlessness, lies and lasciviousness to a greater extent than he’d experience here.
A boarding school?
Might crush him, and he’d no desire to lose that spark.
A wife? For himself?
Pettinger sighed.
That could all too easily crush his own spark.
Loved that opening sentence. Pettinger in the hunt for a wife would be a great twist, but we'll see where this goes.
DeleteA well observed dilemma, loved the opening line too, reminded me of my favourite siouxsie and the banshees Song.
DeletePettinger's musings on wedlock rather remind me of Fagin's "Better Think It Out Again" from "Oliver." Yet another intriguing installment...and #367 to boot. What an achievement!
DeleteI sat here pondering the work that has gone into 367 instalments and then read Patricia's comments, yes it is an achievement! A fine instalment it is too.
DeleteAvian-Sapiens
ReplyDeleteThe Proctor was displaying full male mating plumage. Feathers curling like erotic fronds of fern.
Veshula quelled her fiery arousal.
“You can vouch for their authenticity?” he asked, beady eyes scrutinising the pale bones she had laid out before him.
“The onus was on me to prove the existence of intelligent simian society.”
The proctor stroked his serrated beak. “You theorise that they regressed as we evolved?”
Veshula jutted her downy neck in agreement.
“Female folly,” cawed the Proctor, clawing the bones violently from the table. “Destroy them.”
Veshula genuflected, soon she’d reveal the thousands she’d uncovered in the Flatlands.
David what a nice beginning you have here. I enjoyed how you used the prompts and will be looking forward to any following chapters.
DeleteIntriguing, and oddly disturbing.
DeleteA great story, David. Kind of like Planet of the Apes of the feathered variety. Good luck getting Veshula to mate now that he scattered her bones.
DeleteGreat haunting concept can’t wait to read more.
DeleteThis read like the opening to a classic fantasy novel. I do hope the tale continues.
DeleteI do hope there's going to be more, it feels as if it has a way to go, or are you tormenting us with just this sample, David?
DeleteSnap: Theo thinks back to where it started
ReplyDeleteBrought up on a fictional diet of swaggering gangsters Theo had been slow to realise today’s underground men more often adopted the plumage of curlews and operated openly. Even so, that first approach not the man himself but some trusted minion come to suss him out.
‘Clapton has vouched for you –‘
Clapton! The man who discreetly delivered the small quantity of drugs he supplied to trusted friends.
‘– and we have a proposition.’
Further details. Larger quantities. Bigger risk. Three, maybe four times the profit.
‘What if it goes wrong?’
‘Onus is on you to make sure it doesn’t.’
What could go wrong? Underground men, large quantities of drugs, lots of money changing hands... no problems there.
DeleteAs it happens, John, I do know what went wrong at the end ... but this is near the beginning of the tale and I'm really, really struggling with the middle.
DeleteIt's refreshing to hear you have an end game on the horizon. I have no idea where any of mine are going for the most part. But then, I don't want to ruin the surprise to myself. Middles are the toughest parts.
DeleteI think Theo had best keep his wits about him. I do hope he doesn't turn out to be a small fish in a very large pond.
DeleteUnexpectedly, Patricia, Theo's journey from large to not just small but battered fish has emerged as the theme of this novel.
DeleteFrom small time to the county line in one leap. A gripping tale that’s got me hooked.
DeleteI can just see 'a tale of battered fish' as the back cover blurb... and why not? It would be intriguing enough to get people read it, and once they start on this story, they'd be incapable of going back...
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 88
ReplyDeleteCinereus held back the undergrowth as the others hid the contraption, laid the gerbil across one ‘dillo’s back and followed Tosca.
Glancing at the dark plumage of clouds swirling across the sky, Cinereus then limped into the gloom of the tunnel.
Water trickled on the steep tunnel making it slippery and the onerous burden of gerbil slowed progress as they stopped to reposition it.
‘Gawd,’ coughed someone as the tunnel magnified Tosca’s odour and made all their eyes water, ‘I vouch ‘e stinks as bad as that bluddy camouflage he wears.’
Tosca chuckled as he scratched and scrabbled up ahead.
Terrie, the first of a trio of 'Dillo chapters for us this week. I fully admire your creativity to do this(and the rest of you who post multiple chapters in a series.)
DeleteIt was a interesting how the tunnel enhanced Tosca's B.O. Logical but one I hadn't thought of. Hopefully it's the camouflage and not Tosca personally.
It must be pretty bad to make an armadillo gag. No offense. I loved how Tosca chuckled about it. Kind of like letting one rip in a crowd. I'm dying to find out what this camouflage is.
DeleteI love that Tosca could care less about his perfumed presence. What great characters you do make of these 'dillos.
Delete"onerous burden of gerbil" - magnificent writing!
Deletethis is sooo good...
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 89
ReplyDeleteAtlas, ready for action faded further into shadow, as the scratching and stink grew.
Books fluttered into lesser mouldy heaps, toppled by someone scrambling, from the revealed tunnel behind, into the murky chamber.
A tumble of gasping armadillos followed.
Atlas recognised master-thief Nigel. He relaxed but didn’t move from hiding.
Cinereus, his pelt spiked and twisted into a patchwork of mangy-furred plumage, was last to hobble from the tunnel.
Tosca crouched, ‘we aint alone’ he warned.
The onus to reveal himself fell on Atlas, who moved from the shadows and gave the secret sign.
‘I’ll vouch fer im’ Nigel said.
Nicely presented and I enjoyed the line "A tumble of gasping armadillos followed."
DeleteSuch a lot of action and I'm glad two strands of this story have become one. Love the interaction between Nigel and Atlas.
DeleteOk, I'm kind of thinking this secret tunnel is possibly a sewer pipe or something.Maybe not, just a thought that hit me. So maybe they are approaching human territory?
DeleteNice merging of the two groups. I wonder how many underground passages there actually are.
Deletemore superb scene setting, carrying the story ever onward.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 90
ReplyDeleteThe storm blew itself out near nightfall the next day.
Armi padded quietly through the burrow. He knew the onus was on him to resume his mission and could vouch for the volume of Sarg’s temper if he frittered away more time. He grinned as he passed Pink Fairy’s chamber and saw the frothy plumage of his brother’s bedtime boa rising and fluttering in time with gentle snoring.
Carefully collecting a fully packed tool-belt from the cavern-stash below the Whoremadillo house Armi silently sipped away down the secret tunnel.
Ever vigilant, Brenda watched him go and sighed at his recklessness.
Whoremadillo house, what a great word! Brenda at the end gave me a hint of old Sparta, come home carrying your shield or on it." as they watched their men go to war.
Delete"the frothy plumage of his brother’s bedtime boa" - what a wonderful image!
DeleteI too liked the bedtime boa. This is really building nicely, Terrie.
DeleteWill Armi be the next to join the merge? These episodes only grow more gripping with the passage of time.
DeleteSome wonderfully rich images in these three episodes, such a treat.
Deleteit's the images which you conjure that makes us accept the dillos as normal and that takes skill.
DeleteOnus, plumage, vouch
ReplyDeleteUmbrae Calling
The phone’s ‘brrzzping’ woke Jack from his game-playing zone. ID: PRIVATE. Only my friends have this number. “Speak your peace.”
A male voice said “Well said Jack, my name is also Jack. Before you get your red plumed Mohawk in a tizzy, Let’s play Q&A. We vouch our answers.”
“Why, I’ve no friends named Jack?”
“I’m not your friend, yet…”
There’s no onus in playing and that voice is very familiar.
“I’m piqued. Last night, what was her name?”
“Sherry likes you but not that much. You’re reaching, a cheerleader captain. It’s like middle class dating a lottery winner.”
What is this shadow Jack up to? Intriguing story line.
DeleteThe playing of Q&A seldom leads to anything pleasant.
Deleteinteresting framing/for a tale that looks to become darker.
DeleteMisgivings [Threshold 291]
ReplyDeleteMust’ve been two hours before shadows on distant buildings vouched for habitation but anticipation leached as we passed groups of bloody-beaked and -taloned vultures. Fanciful perhaps, but I took them as harbingers of the glossy and perhaps sinisterly-plumaged Raven’s intention, and when one clumsily rose to fly townwards, I believed it went to warn of my arrival.
A glance at the silent man beside me told me nothing. Expression neither fearful nor pleased.
The onus to escape my fate was mine, whatsoever it might be. I pulled his arm. ‘Can we take another direction?’
‘Birdman said deliver only to him.’
This was a great tension builder, which you do so well. The bloody beaks and the apparent warning are ominous to be sure.
DeleteThis silent man, with his deadpan expression, is indeed a curious character.
DeleteBeware the man who refuses to elaborate. And beware any bird who displays beaks and talons which bear blood. I hope Raven can be trusted...you wouldn't have him be a turncoat at this point, would you?
DeleteI Love ” shadows on distant buildings vouched for habitation“ the tension is really building
Deletewho knows what Raven will be tempted to do? This gets darker and more involved as it progresses.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 224 - Return Of The Rook
ReplyDeleteThe bedraggled Rook, evidenced by drenched plumage, surely returned from beyond the Junction. Rain never fell on Cripplegate. Never. Anyone could vouch for that. The bird landed atop the station clock. In her beak, a Yale key.
Fluttering feathers showered fat droplets upon Marmalade who, ears flattened, hissed a warning. With a startled caw, the Rook took flight and dropped the key. It bounced off the capsized tea urn into the weeds next to the track.
The onus was on Violet to retrieve the item but Marmalade, with deceptively unhurried pace and haunting eyes, stalked...purposefully...deliberately...ever closer.
--------------------------------------------------------
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.
----------------------------------------------------------
Glad that the Rook showed some intelligence in not messing with Marmalade. I enjoyed how you wove/placed the prompts in this chapter.
Delete"Bedraggled" and "fat droplets" just two examples of your talent for selecting the precise word to enhance colour.
DeleteDang, Patricia. You really got serious with this one. It reads with a sense of urgency. I loved how the rook possibly came from beyond the Junction, with the key to boot. Strange happenings. Marmalade, Violet, the key, the rook and that dang overturned tea urn... Very well done.
DeleteAs Sandra said your pairings of words are exquisite and showcase your talent. I love that it never rains in cripplegate.
DeleteMarmalade, lead character (as he should be) is seriously Up To Something. Will we find out? or will you bury the mystery in Cripplegate forever?
DeleteGathering magic - 5
ReplyDeleteWithin the shadows, something small tickled the mind of The Lord of Deceit and Lies.
Smoke, spiralling like sooty plumage, rose from his skin and hair and the glow of a memory sparked within his eye. He moved, yawning, and stirring the darkness with the onus of his breath as he woke from the slumber of aeons.
The ripple of his breathing touched the world of men and magic and Batt trembled at the scent of it .He knew what it meant, but, he’d vouchsafed his silence to the dark one at the sundering of the worlds so said nothing.
And how well you've evoked the scent of this, reminding me of sullen snot-green smoking coal fires in my childhood.
DeleteAfter sleeping for eons, I can see why The Lord of Deceit and Lies had bad breath. You've had a thing with scent this week. You are always good at stimulating the senses.
Delete'Sooty plumage', 'glow of a memory', 'ripple of his breathing' such beautiful imagery, Terrie.
DeleteI am indeed very fond of this Batt. His history becomes more intriguing with every episode.
DeletePainting a picture with words, is not easy, but stirring other senses along with it is even harder what an excellent piece.
Deleteintrigue alongside images. Brilliant writing.
DeleteSome very lovely and suggestive lines, Terrie. memory sparked within his eye and the ripple of his breathing.
ReplyDeleteOnus, plumage, vouch
ReplyDeleteIskaria 6
I arrived at Master Duhlack’s estate, his sigil, a colorfully plumed peacock, above the gate. Randolph, Stephen Falkenburg and I talked business about weddings.
“Malik, your father placed an onus on us to give you this scroll, after his death.”
I broke my father’s seal and read it. “You both know it’s contents?”
“We’ll vouchsafe the subject, not the details.”
“A double wedding we’ll have. Me to Averia Falkenburg and Stephen’s young son, Conif, to Tamerlane Duhlack, and you’ll both become my vassals. No Baron Rathmore in our lands.”
They stood, saying “Long live Malik Damroth, Freigraf of Iskaria.”
You gotta love arranged marriages. I hope the brides like their suitors.
DeleteI'd like to hear the other side of these marriages, but it appears they don't have a voice. Great use of dialog, Jeffrey!
DeleteDouble weddings seldom bode well either, I think. I sense troubled waters ahead.
DeleteClueless
ReplyDeleteThe onus was on Theodore Peacock when it was pointed out by Professor Plum that the dodo bird was extinct.
“Then what, exactly, is the plumage on my new hat, Theo?” said his dignified yet overbearing wife.
“Dodo bird, just as I said, dear. My man in Katmandu can vouch for it.”
“But the bird is extinct, apparently.”
“It is now,” Theodore said. “But it’s imperative we keep the secret. PETA would have a conniption.”
Mrs. Peacock held her head high and strolled from the room.
I can't decide, but am almost sure Theodore is lying. After all, who knows what dodo plumage looks like?
DeleteMrs. Peacock is one incredibly pompous woman. Theodore had better prepare a list of birds for his Mrs. future hats.
DeleteNice clue references and even more inspired title. I had to chuckle at PETA having a conniption.
DeleteThat’s a feather in her cap and one in yours too. Loved the references.
DeleteI like this! It captures so much of the character of the players in this story.
DeleteGood line: "It is now." Very good story, John.
ReplyDeleteBeware Of The Dog
ReplyDeleteOnly entered to look around? Well, no opportunity to leave now. He wouldn't allow it, not even for dog treats. I can vouch for that. Don't put the onus on me to control him. I'm simply a warden.
His master?
I'd not ruffle his plumage with triviality when his wife has just left to visit her mother. His mood is already foul. Should have taken better notice of the warning on the gate.
"Beware of the Dog?" Yes, of course, but I was actually referring to the one that reads: "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here."
What a unique twist on a classic, Dante would've enjoyed it.
DeleteYes, that sign would have been an important one to notice. Very entertaining read.
DeleteFair warning was given via that ominous sign, so... enter at your own risk.
DeleteI've come back to re-read this several times, finding it uncomfortably charming. It hints at so much, so sly and sideways glancingly. Like oil to which a spoonful of ground glass has been added.
DeleteI can almost feel the quiet satisfaction of the warden as he quotes the alternative sigh, very much a 'poor fool!' attitude here.
DeleteTHE DARK SIDE
ReplyDeleteFinally, a cloudy moonless night has come, one that will absorb me within its dark protective plumage. A perfect night for satisfying my craving.
I eased myself from you and silently slipped into the darkness outside. I moved unseen, easily found a careless female and killed her.
I prefer females.
Unnoticed, I then returned home. You shifted slightly when I reentered, and I feared I had awakened you. But you quickly settled again into sleep.
You can sleep peacefully, for there is no onus on you. I can vouch for that.
I am your dark side.
I am your shadow.
Dang, Jim. That's one bad ass shadow. I think my shadow would be nice. He'd just go out and raise a little heck, nothing monstrous. A chilling read.
DeleteAnd this a second darkly intriguing piece - how lucky I feel for this weekly richness! - as well as thoroughly mind-wrung.
DeleteNever do any shadow boxing with this shadow. An excellent story, Jim.
DeleteCreepy at its very best creepiness. I would love to see this on the screen...preferably in black and white. It would work so well.
DeleteThis one has got right under my skin. In fear of your own shadow.
Deletecreepy yes and then the reader is left to conjure their own take on this tale... which could be very unpleasant indeed!
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Ninety Seven) - "NOT Without A Trace"
ReplyDeleteMaximillian Corviday accepted no responsibility for the missing bicycle. Suggestions that Kursaal staff members indulged in thievery caused his plumage to ruffle like that of his namesake. The Constabulary was on hand. Onus squarely upon them to find the item!
However, since none vouched for when or where the bike was last seen, the inquiry was abandoned. Investigations switched to the small dog, assumed to be the Pepperdyne pup, recently spotted near Lucy Pepperdyne's grave.
The animal had vanished but pawprints in the dirt indicated a path toward town. Equally intriguing, were adjacent tire tracks made by a Raleigh 3-speed.
--------------------------------------------------------
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: Maximillian Corviday (Kursaal Owner) and Lucy Pepperdyne, as well as the aforementioned Pepperdyne Pup, have all featured in previous episodes.
Well, since Maximilian says he didn't take the bike, and the dog likely didn't, that only leaves Lucy, but being dead is a pretty good alibi. Very intriguing, P.
DeleteI'm far from confident this will do anything other than continue to simmer, unsolved, for the duration.
DeleteWell now, the mystery deepens. Some really good writing here and the series.
DeleteNow that has given me the chills
Deleteintresting mysteries and characters abound in the Kursaal, heading for its 200th episode, no less!
DeleteUp In Smoke
ReplyDeleteShe was engulfed in flames. I can vouch for the intense inferno that consumed her spirit, body and soul. I waited for the expected resurrection. Had she not renewed time and time again? The passing hours were interminable. Would the onus to effectuate restoration now fall upon the incompetent masses? We are not up to the task. Never were.
And so that beautiful, brilliant, legendary plumage is doomed to exist only as suffocating embers within the smouldering crater of memorial ashes.
I keep saying it, and fear my repetition might become boring as your writing definitely does not, continuing to go from strength to strength.
DeleteNo matter how much I try, I always look up and see so many writers above me. Patricia, one of several excellent stories.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteA beautiful bit of writing, Patricia. The masses are never good at resurrection, so perhaps it's up to the narrator to carry on. (Go ahead and say it... what the heck are you talking about, John).
DeleteI’m in total awe of your talent Patricia.
Deletethere's sadness at the outcome of this death and a sense of bitterness that the resurrection didn't happen and - you can read so much into it.
DeleteThis news is not good! Has time run out? Beautifully crafted last line, Patricia!
ReplyDeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (88)
ReplyDeleteSmall improvement now assisted by Shaun’s garage clearance and idea to create a workshop and improve tatty furniture. The onus, he says, is on him to fight for our future. I can vouch for his commitment, it comes wrapped in the plumage of a true Irishman! There is much to do and I am busy doing it, advertising, discussing a virtual shop front with the local selling site, whilst cleaning, photographing and advertising the items emerging from the depths of the garage… waiting to see what other goodies emerge into the daylight. ~Surely it can only get better.
I've often thought it would be satisfying to refurbish furniture. But it seems hard, so I don't do it. Here's hoping to find gems in the garage goodies.
DeleteSounds like you and Shaun make one hell of a team, Antonia. I have every faith things will improve considerably very soon.
DeleteGood to hear of Shaun's Irish-wrapped commitment.
DeleteKeep busy, Antonia. Things seem to be looking up!
DeleteVirtual shop fronts are the way to go to pursue another avenue.
DeleteKudos to both of you, rowing in the same direction. This will definitely start improving.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (147)
ReplyDeleteThe news is endlessly virus. Plumage is dimmed as the impact is shown to be worse than anticipated. There will be those who can vouch for the fact they were forewarned… now the onus is on them to keep the country going. How many will falsify symptoms to claim time off work is incalculable while others will work even though infected because their existence depends on it. There will be deaths, there will be many survivors. We can only hope they are grateful for their existence and do not damage it wilfully, as many will be inclined to do.
There's a virus?
DeleteOk, I'll admit I know of it. Today, the largest employer in my city announced its workers will work from home whenever possible. If it's imperative they come in, great precautions will be taken. Kind of scary but this will be a great inconvenience.
I understand the virus is now a global pandemic. I do hope it runs its course very soon. My retirement funds are taking one hell of hit. I note the Mad Italian is not unaware of the situation.
DeletePretty scary stuff this virus. Most folks are jittery and on edge, and who can blame them? Let's pray it quickly slides into history without doing any more damage.
DeleteI have spent all week writing continuity plans and service heat maps, I normally work from home, but my broadband died three days ago, so moved to my dads house to use his broadband. Think I need to invest in a MiFi box, as writing these bits on my phone is hurting my eyes. Interesting piece from the mad Italian.
DeleteWhy does disaster brings people together, helping us remember what's important? The first positive case in our county showed up today. Wise words through time still ring true.
DeleteBeautiful Poetry
ReplyDeleteThe plumage of a downy duck,
often times is hard to pluck.
The onus borne by such a plucker,
is somewhat that of an ice road trucker.
To vouch for drivers who run amuck,
can make one look like quite a schmuck.
To fashion words that rhyme with puck,
requires restraint… and a little luck.
And SUCH restraint, John! Well done.
DeleteA good chuckle I had,
Deletefrom a poem the opposite of very bad.
Is there an uncensored version and where can I read it? Come on, John...we both know this is has been cleaned up!!! So now you are adding a poetic string to your bow. There's just no keeping up with you.
DeleteI have just roared out loud with laughter, a great wit.
Deletelove it! So so clever!
ReplyDeleteInadequately Yours verse 2 (the response)
ReplyDeleteInadequate you were, and that’s not what this lady needed.
I wanted someone going places, not a dreamer that will eventually be defeated.
Someone like me should be dined and treated well,
Sandwiches on a bench? Crawl back to your shell!
You vouched your dreams were worthy, well that onus is on you.
If you really wanted me, you knew what you needed to do.
I have no need,of your raucous plumage, and your high romantic views
I’ll still make something of this by selling my story to the news.
A good poem and I'm curious about her story.
DeleteGood riddance I say. Entertain poetry.
Delete