Friday, 15 May 2020

Sunshine on a pewter hip flask ...


... caught my eye when I sat down to type this; the lines of the Charles Rennie Mackintosh engraved design picked out sharply. Near as sharp as this week’s writings, from which I am expected to a single … favourite. The one that, in this week, this hour (another hour might bring my thoughts to change) especially appeals, a duty which accompanies the hosting of this site.

Patricia’s snakes and ladders  in ‘Cripplegate Junction/Part 231 - Playing The Game’ evoked good memories, Jim’s ‘square inch’ just one highlight of  ‘The Shadow Series: I still Am’, and John’s 5th episode of ‘The curious cases of Dr. A. Marie Abernathy’ earned several re-readings and top place.

Words for next week: harvest  panache  sorry

Entries by midnight (GMT) Thursday 21stMay , words and winners posted Friday 22nd

 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.

131 comments:

  1. There were some expertly written offerings from last week but congratulations to John, Jim and Patricia for the top mentions.

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    1. Thanks, Terrie. I'm really honored to ne named with Patricia and Jim. It's getting harder and harder to be Sandra around here. I'd be a wreck, trying to decide amidst all the great stories on here.

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    2. Oh my...what an honour indeed to be counted among such talented company. I agree with John, though. How Sandra manages to sift out a jewel from the many gems on display every week is totally beyond my comprehension.

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  2. The curious cases of Dr. A. Marie Abernathy, Part 6

    Detective Thorne breezed into the pathology lab, nonchalance on full display. He nodded at the stiff.

    “Is that who I think it is?”

    “If you’re thinking Harry Bercher, CEO of International Harvester,” said Dr. Abernathy, “you get the prize.”

    “What’s the prize?”

    She rolled her eyes and looked upward.

    “Don’t be looking at the writer. His panache is already unbearable, the way he inserts himself into the story.”

    “Okay, sorry. There is no prize. It was rhetorical.”

    Thorne looked away. “Let’s get to the case then.”

    She cleared her throat and jotted on her notepad. “There can be a prize, though.”

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    Replies
    1. Excellent use of harvest, John, and this is becoming a favorite of mine.

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    2. That final line ... she's such a tease

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    3. jdeegan536@yahoo.com19 May 2020 at 16:48

      Hmm... just what is rolling around in Dr. A's mind? Is Detective Thorne really such a dunce or does he have a masked purpose? As always with you, John, great dialog.

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    4. This is such a good example of dialogue doing all the work. I can see the whole scene so easily and can imagine the shadowy figure of the writer as part of it too. I like this.

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    5. Ooohhh...what a teaser of a statement. Now we're all wondering at the potential prize.

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  3. The curious cases of Dr. A. Marie Abernathy, Part 7

    Harvey Huttle considered himself a harvester of sorts. He liked to think he possessed a certain amount of panache. And charm. But he was an intelligent man, and allowed himself these illusions to further his non-existent self-esteem.

    For all those who contributed to his woes: the bullies, the condescending women, the kids in his neighborhood, his mother; he’d honed his harvesting skills and he was not sorry.

    His latest victim, the CEO of his employer, was an example of his best work. He was proud. He defied anyone to figure it out. His skills were undetectable. He was sure of it.

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    1. You express pride very well and good use of the prompts.

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    2. Undetectable skills, eh? Not sure he really means that. Or doesn't mean to mean it, at least.

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    3. A clever introduction to the perpetrator of the crimes. Clever insertion of the prompt words too. What sprang to mind for me was that old adage - pride comes before a fall so Harvey had better be 100% sure of his skill.

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    4. Methinks I sense some over-confidence at work here. Not sure this Harvey is quite as clever as he thinks he might be.

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    5. I read these two as one, they flow seamlessly one to the other and are spiced with tormenting tidbits for the future - My only comment is, there is a best selling crime series in the UK featuring DI Tom Thorne... which Ive followed so at times the repeat of names throws me a little...

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  4. Cripplegate Junction/Part 232 - Homeward Bound?

    Hamnet watched smoke spiral from the train's chimney. Initially black, then grey and finally, ashen as the plumed panache atop a White Knight's helmet. The platform shuddered as the locomotive shifted on its tracks.

    Through the Dining Car window, Hamnet gawked at Marmalade's harvested rewards of a stealthy and successful hunt. Platters licked spotless and a supine, rotund-bellied feline unable to twitch so much as a whisker.

    "I fear that cat will suffer for his gluttony," said the Station Master.

    He smiled benevolently at Hamnet.

    "And sorry to say, young fellow-my-lad, you need to find an alternative way home."

    --------------------------------------------------------
    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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    1. What, the train's not leaving? Where there's smoke doesn't always mean fire in Cripplegate. Good one, Patricia.

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    2. A locomotive shifting doesn't sound good. Very good story and I'm not sure if I should feel sorry for Marmalade.

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    3. Damn - I suspect I should know where Hamnet's home is.

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    4. Marmalade is sure to come out on top of whatever's threatening. full up or not. I did read a comment on youtube last week that cats' ears are genetically designed to allow the human voice to go in one ear and straight out the other...
      which is fine, because it leaves room for the merest whisper of threat and that feline will (surely) be out of there.
      A chilling instalment, Patricia!

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  5. Change of focus [377]

    While Philly Stepcart’s looks far outshone Millet’s 'Gleaners', she was likely no less efficient at harvesting information. At grinding and baking the ears therefrom; serving plaited loaves with all the panache of a master baker.
    She’d doubtless revel in Pettinger’s ignorance.
    ‘Explain “Omega”. In connection with this key.’
    The goldfinch glitter of her eyes fluttered sideways. Was she preparing to lie?
    With reluctance, ‘It’s potential evidence for how Dodger came to die. He was escaping –‘
    ’Escaping? From what?’ Petting read hesitation, ‘Bollocking Christ, Stepcart, I’m not some fragile maiden aunt!’
    –‘Sorry, I thought you’d know–‘
    ’Know what?’
    ‘Snuff.’

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    1. Pettinger might be a little slow every now and then but ignorant he's not. Enjoyed that you had goldfinch in the story.

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    2. I liked how he called her Stepcart. This is quite an interaction between these too. Very enjoyable.

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    3. John, I've recently read a debate (quite abusive on occasion) about how NOT calling a woman by her surname, when men are more often referred to that way, is somehow sexist. And yet it is subtly different isn't it? For Pettinger to call her Philly in these circumstances would have been different, maybe a little demeaning if you want to be really super-sensitive, but it is a professional acknowledgement, I think and deliberate avoidance of implying friendship.
      Thank you for clarifying for me why I, without conscious thought, chose to do it this way.

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    4. The brilliant dialogue really makes the interaction between these two shine. Great stuff Sandra.

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    5. Love that correlation to the art of baking displayed here. Very nicely constructed. I too recently saw reference to females rarely being addressed other than by the first name. Equal is equal in my book!

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    6. interesting point coming out of an interesting instalment. I've been reading crime novels where the DCI and superintendents and others are referred to by their last name all the time and find it grates on me quite considerably. Which probably says more about me than anything.

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    7. Antonia: in my 'Drink with a dead man' (begun 2015) I have the following:

      "'DS Lloyd?'
      Duty sergeant. Called her Fran to her face, but DCI Flanagan – inevitably known as Bud, despite everyone needing to have some alleged comedian explained – insisted on rank and formality when operational. So this’d be a call-out."

      I do tend to very the degree of familiarity depending on circumstances.

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  6. Harvest, panache, sorry
    The Council of Canossa 12

    “Your majesty, a message from Avignon,” said Andoun.
    King John II broke the seal and frowned.
    “Your cousin is again entertaining the idea that the papacy should be in Rome and now he’s had a vision from God, about it.”
    “Sorry to hear that, sire. If he believes this is God’s vision for him to do...martyrs are heaven’s harvest.”
    “You’ve a panache with words, maybe I should’ve made you Pope?”
    “He’s brought Florence to your side against the Black Prince.”
    “Edward did that. They paid my ransom; Edward was an idiot by not paying them back, with their own money.”

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    1. That's one way to deal with a vision from God; snuff out the visionary.

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    2. Dont' know much about Edward the Black Prince. Wasn't really my favourite era of history, but I do know he died before becoming king and believe the reference to "black" was due to the colour of his armour. However, you obviously much more about this period than I and, as always, your knowledge is enviable.

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  7. Lucinda and the Beast


    Lucinda plunged into the waves long before the rest of the crew awoke.

    Down through the depths to the uniform rows of cultivated kelp, webbed toes spread wide, gill slits on her neck filtering oxygen. She set about harvesting with panache. The foreman would be sorry he ever questioned her productivity.

    At this hour there was no guard. The shark came, snatched her in his dagger teeth, and carried her away, scattering silvery fish in his dreadful wake.

    The fronds of kelp swayed in verdant dance. One furrow mysteriously fallow. And her blood was like crimson streamers in the brine.

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    1. jdeegan536@yahoo.com17 May 2020 at 17:16

      Your feel for poetry is, at least to me, wonderfully evident in this well-crafted piece, David. This is a pleasure to read, despite Lucinda's unfortunate demise.

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    2. The signs do say 'No SWimming without a lifeguard'. Laudable narration, good descriptions and an unexpected ending. All the ingredients for a great story.

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    3. Jim has said what I was about to - interesting how horror, when poetically-told, is still horror. Just a better class of it, perchance?

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    4. Show, don't tell: a classic example and very well done. Loved the dreadful wake.

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    5. This was quite stunning in its horrific substance. Due to the beauty of the language used. What an excellent tale this was.

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    6. delicate, horrifying, inevitable. I think that sums this one up - gloriously rich read.

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  8. Snap: Careless talk costs lives (but not yet)

    While DS McCallan, in charge of the night’s activities – a harvesting of drugs; unloaded in a yet-to-be-identified East Coast inlet and driven north – did not expect 100% success; he was confident Darbyshere’s unexplained absence – ‘Sorry, Neil, Unavoidable,’ was not connected to his plan to simultaneously test for sabotage.
    He was well aware he’d neither experience nor charisma enough to match Darbyshere’s organisational panache but was confident at least one of the four supermarket stake-outs in the early hours of a wet-shiny black December night, would bring success.
    Even if all it showed was the team itself had sprung a leak.

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    1. Sandra, another excellent use of narration, which I'm trying to improve on, so thank you (et. al.) for the way you use it. Loved the setting you've created.

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    2. Well, at least McCallan admits, at least to himself, the holes in the organization and is trying to remedy it. Very smooth writing here, Sandra.

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    3. Your serializations always move along with such ease and cover much ground in a minimum of words. This is no exception.

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    4. seems inevitable that there is a leak, comes with the territory... carefully and vividly described.

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  9. The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 108


    Atlas greeted Armi, snout tip to snout tip, followed by a friendly nudge and, despite Armi’s panache and swagger, Atlas was instantly aware his friend still suffered greatly from his encounter with the lizard, Moloch: He was not the only one.
    Seems fixing hurts is all im good for,’ muttered Cinereus. ‘When the mission meeting’s done, haul your sorry tail my way, so I can take a proper look.’
    As Armi nodded, Nigel noticed Tosca delicately harvesting grubs from a nearby rotten log, ‘’E’s got the right idea,’ he said, ‘we might as well eat ‘n talk, come on.’

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    1. Grubs from a rotten log, lends a new meaning to take out. An well done continuation, Terrie.

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    2. I'm enjoying the team being together. It was great when they were separated and fighting the fight, but them being in one place is entertaining.

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    3. "Eat'n'talk" - how very healing. I can imagine the warmth of their interaction.

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    4. A nice meal and friendly conversation. What could be better? I imagine those grubs were consumed while still alive?

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    5. not quite grub-takeaway, more grub-serve-yourself, talk comes free but be careful who's listening...

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  10. jdeegan536@yahoo.com17 May 2020 at 18:16

    THE SHADOW SERIES: WONDERING

    I had every intention to hunt as I crept from your corpse that night, but I soon realized that my deliriously delightful desire to kill was waning. Not for lack of a potential harvest though, for throughout the night and the next I came upon many suitable females.
    But the exhilarating panache that accompanied draining life from someone had evanesced.
    Perhaps because I no longer have a lecherous host feeding me.
    Perhaps…
    I have concealed myself in thick, dark woods where shadows remain unseen.
    A baffling sense of misery and sorrow have me wondering if a shadow can kill itself.

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    1. Did, somehow, the dead host, imprint on the 'shadow parasite'? Jim, I'm adding you to the list of those who I can learn narration and setting from.

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    2. jdeegan536@yahoo.com18 May 2020 at 16:20

      You are very kind, Jeffrey.

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    3. Trust he'll work it out in due course ... certainly hope so, at least.

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    4. Somehow, you make us feel bad for this bloodthirsty killer. I can see him hunkering in the woods, barely seen, contemplating his demise, even if it's not possible.

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    5. Came back to this, just for the pleasure of re-reading the smoothness and the silky choice of words. Thanks Jim.

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    6. I agree with John. You have somehow managed to incite a certain amount of sympathy for this heartless murderer. Not easy to do when the character in question is so obviously merciless. This must be in the running for top spot this week, I do believe.

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    7. the worrying thought is, did Jim draw on himself for this vivid depiction of the murderer, in doing so make him human... truly brilliant instalment, this!

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  11. The Janus Door XI

    Nova Gaia germinated, like the spelt now being harvested did, five months earlier. Vibius and Caseo divided Gaia’s leadership. Caseo, with his oratory panache handled the civil government and Vibius ran the military. The training of forty women as slingers and twenty older boys and women as archers, had finished. Nova Gaia had a garrison.
    “Salve, Vibius. Those creatures are doing well at the mill. I’m calling them Vita Capra’s.”
    “Goats have two horns, not one with a long neck. I’m sorry about our arguing last night.”
    He clasped his brothers’ arm.
    “We’re citizens first, brothers always, and slaves never.”

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    1. That is some garrison. I envision them doing well in battle with their slinging and arching.

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    2. That last line statement certainly carries some depth. Nice one, Jeffrey.

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  12. Iskaria 14

    Kartlemack, was a harvest of information. I used some tallow-tree leaf extract, to aid his healing. He had a relaxing panache about him, despite him being a gnome.
    “I’m sorry for killing your friend.”
    “I’m not, he was stupid and earned his shameful death. Master Malik, your elvish has an unusual accent. You’re not from Nalinor.”
    “True, my mother was. Can you tell me where the Khumbark Trail is?”
    His eyes narrowed and lips pursed. “Why do you seek your death?”
    “Isn’t that how I get to Nalinor?”
    “If to Nalinor you go, I’ll take you close.”

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    Replies
    1. There's more than one way to Nalinor, it seems. Hopefully Kartlemack is honorable.

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    2. Sounds ominous to me. Not sure I'd be over-eager to continue that journey.

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    3. jdeegan536@yahoo.com21 May 2020 at 03:46

      I believe I'd say "no thanks" to that offer. Something seems rotten in Nailnor.

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  13. Failure of improving tales [Threshold 301]

    As a child I had access to the sorry remnants of my grandmother’s childhood library, housed, with jigsaws and harvestmen in a battered tea-chest. Several told tales of finishing schools wherein well-brought-up young ladies were taught to curtsey, whilst balancing a book upon their head. To deal with every circumstance Life dealt. Regrettably if there was one on how to extricate oneself, with panache, from the situation I now found myself in, I failed to read it.
    Failed to comprehend the why of Raven’s cry.
    Or the reason for their hasty-but-careful backing away. Arms extended before them; fingers devil-warding crossed.

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    Replies
    1. So many things happen in life that we were not taught how to deal with. This is a neat little lead-in to Raven's behavior. Looking forward to episode 302.

      With that said, if you ever find yourself in a car, in a wooded area by a lake, with a sweetie and a police officer wraps on the window with his flashlight, don't try to lie your way out of it. It only adds to his enjoyment of the situation. (July 4, 1976).

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    2. Umm ... sorry John, but you've lost me there. The one idea I had was not born out.

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    3. This is intriguing, enigmatic and begs further explanation. I always thoroughly enjoy this serialization but I do believe you've outdone yourself with this episode, Sandra.

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    4. I suspect that something untoward is materializing. I don't see fancy hand and arm movements doing much good. The final two lines are so nicely crafted, Sandra.

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    5. there goes digging up a load of memories, I remember those books! and now smoothly you integrated them into the story.

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  14. Raven is superstitious? Then again, just because you are doesn't mean you don't have good reason. An excellent story, Sandra.

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  15. Bullet Dodged

    Wearing a silk leopard-print face scarf he believed added just the right amount of panache, Leonard inspected the clogged shoot on the John Deere harvester.

    “We can’t find Seymour!” a farmhand called out.

    An eyeball rolled onto Leonard’s suede boat shoe.

    Jumping out of the old Ford, his grizzled father shook his head when he saw the scarf. “Lenny, I’ll finish this. Get your sorry ass out to the back 40 and supervise the manure delivery.”

    Later, Leonard’s mother said, “Lenny, go bail out your father. Looks like he ran over another one.”

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    Replies
    1. Really good, John. Accidents do happen. Wonderful use of the prompts.

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    2. Leonard's father needs more than bail out methinks, leopard print scarf or no.

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    3. jdeegan536@yahoo.com19 May 2020 at 23:43

      Accidents seem a rather common occurrence at this farm. I hope word of them filters through the community.

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    4. Sorry, but I couldn't stifle a chuckle when reading this. Lenny certainly seems to be taking such happenstances in stride, that's for sure.

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    5. just loved how off the wall surreal and amusing that last line is!

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  16. Kursaal (Episode Two Hundred Four) - "Arbuthnot Jester And The Obfuscation Orb/Part One"

    Arbuthnot Jester fancied himself a Bulldog Drummond. The rash of Kursaal disappearances intrigued from the get-go. So, when he witnessed Primrose Lee's familiarity with properties of the Obfuscation Orb and seemingly trapped images of the missing, he was keen to investigate further. The Deviant Twins' potential understanding of the spherical phenomena was also noted.

    Consummate harvester of hearts, diminutive Arby had already successfully wooed the three ladies. He relied now upon romantic panache to become privy to their knowledge. Arby felt no remorse for such seductive tactics...he was never sorry for anything...and the women would appreciate resurgence of his affections.

    --------------------------------------------------------
    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: Arbuthnot Jester, Primrose Lee, The Deviant Twins and The Obfuscation Orb have all featured in previous episodes.

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    1. I'm tempted to offer something nasty as a prompt, if only I could be sure you'd upend Arby into it.

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    2. At least he's confident of his prowess with the ladies. It wouldn't surprise me to discover that he's the next image to be seen in the Orb. Very well done. Patricia.

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    3. Panache; what a perfect word for Arby. Sandra, I accept your challenge on Patricia's behalf.

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    4. Well, thank you, John. I will try to live up to your lofty expectations. I'll probably fall flat on my face, but I will try.

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    5. Patricia, it's to have Arby fall flat on his face I'm already scouring thesauri (we've three in the house) ... but I'm betting you'll keep him safe.

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    6. Arby's an intriguing character with nothing but his own gratification in mind and, as he has to cope with the Kursaal, can anyone blame him?

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  17. Gathering Magic – 14


    So, I don’t need these?’ she looked at the collection of harvested skulls.

    ‘No, but used magic like those must be treated respectfully. Bury them where they can’t be found.’

    'Bury?'

    Batt cautiously steered the conversation, ‘dig a hole in the ground, put them in, and cover them up. If you wish, I could help you focus your magic to do it.’ he said carefully.

    He eyes sparked, ‘I can do it,’ she flicked her fingers with exaggerated panache, but nothing happened. After a moment, she breathed deeply, faced him and said quietly, ‘help me.’

    Batt felt sorry for her.

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    1. So lightly-painted, this scene, but sends me grabbing colours and trying them for size and shape, so much do I want more.

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    2. Batt is making some progress, hopefully. Knowing how to bury something is important for this girl. I think.

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    3. jdeegan536@yahoo.com19 May 2020 at 16:39

      I hope her loss of magic is temporary. We need to see more of her powers. A very smooth and easy read, Terrie.

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    4. The capture of the child's character in its innocence is outstanding. I like how she had no concept of a burial and Batt, of course (and I'm fast becoming a fan), has a great desire to help. This came across as so gentle and compassionate. What a lovely continuation.

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  18. Failure is disheartening yet can be a learning experience. Nice continuation, Terrie.

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    1. burial is so much a part of ritualistic magic it was time the girl learned about it but it's what else Batt will teach her that's the big question.

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  19. The Harvester Grill & Pump Room

    It was a sorry, seedy, sordid area of the city with an ever-changing population of vagrants, drifters and the insignificant homeless. Transients came and transients went without leaving so much as a footprint on the landscape.

    Hardly the ideal location for a thriving restaurant, but The Harvester Grill & Pump Room pulled it off with panache and flair. Its Bloody Marys were the best in town and customers came from miles away to sample the devilled kidneys and specialty of the house, liver and onions with gravy.

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    1. Liver and onions with gravy is usually a rare treat for me ... but has suddenly become unappealing.

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    2. jdeegan536@yahoo.com19 May 2020 at 23:35

      Liver and onions... always one of my favorites. I believe I can maintain that attraction as long as I avoid The Harvester Grill and Pump Room.

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    3. I'm sure it gets a 5 steak rating from the Ghouls and Vampires that fequent it. A very well done story, Patricia.

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    4. seedy bar with 'first class' cuisine... I think I'll give it a miss. The mere mention of liver and onions is enough to put me off food for a week anyway, let alone in a place like that!! great story. Great scene setting.

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    5. This part of town, I think I'd avoid, especially The Harvester. The name alone would deter me. Really clever and enjoyable.

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  20. Having your desire filled, like a wish granted, isn't always the reality you expected. Nice narration and it was easy for me to envision him in front of a mirror thinking this through. Good episode Sandra.

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  21. Snap: Sliding to finale

    He checked the wing mirror yet again. Was sure. Almost sure she’d seen too, but … Christ, this was tricky. He the man (he was now!) and ought to take charge, but – just three days ago, a mere apprentice. In the spring of his life. (Springing with life!) Whereas she – as her harvest bush so gloriously indicated – in the autumn of hers. But female. And several times today during this ill-decisioned, increasingly snow-slowed journey, the panache with which she’d deflowered him had been entirely absent.
    So he really ought to say. Better safe than sorry.
    ‘Lucy, we’re being followed.

    [reposted due to error spotted]


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    1. So mysterious. I am loving it.

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    2. definitely mysterious, his driving is almost dangerous because of his need to compulsively check the wing mirror...

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    3. Sorry, Antonia - should have made it clear, he was the passenger. This the seizing of another opportunity to seed a development in my current wip following a visit to the intended scene of the subsequent accident - took a bit of an effort imagining the snow.

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    4. all we've had are storms, wet stuff and windy stuff, snow? distant memory. Not that I'm asking for the country to be paralysed with the white stuff but it would make a change on the news...

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    5. Several times, huh? Still a little spring in the harvest bush. Building up nicely, Sandra.

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    6. jdeegan536@yahoo.com21 May 2020 at 16:53

      I would have liked to be a fly on the wall when she "deflowered" him. That must have been some great experience.

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    7. I've not written that scene yet, Jim, but I could try and incorporate a fly ...

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  22. The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 109

    Pink fairy twisted his feathery boa into a rumpled sorry, tangle.
    ‘Business is booming, Brenda, but dangerous times are apaw so keep customers to a minimum and don’t let them wander unsupervised.
    Shut our private apartments off and maintain one working entrance. With a bit of flair and panache no one will even notice the changes.’

    Brenda nodded. She’d see Armi leave so was aware of the tunnel but she guessed there was something more down there as the brothers often disappeared together for long periods with ill-gotten gains they’d harvested and she knew they didn’t leave the whoremadillo house.

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    1. "Dangerous times are apaw" as opposed to "afoot." Absolutely love it!

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    2. jdeegan536@yahoo.com21 May 2020 at 00:57

      Something more down there, eh? Could Brenda be contemplating a trip into the tunnel? SO nice, Terrie.

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    3. I'm musing over the things the brothers might get up to and with what...

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    4. The changes at the whoremadillo house kind of tie in with today's events with the distanced customers and reduced entrances. I agree with Jim that Brenda is intrigued by the tunnel.

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    5. Brenda always strikes me as a Watcher, who thinks about what she sees more than she acts.

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    6. Dangerous times are apaw is a very good line. The power of observation and lip reading would be very much a benefit in such a location.

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  23. The Joys of Mediumship part 5
    This week brought me two visitors. Steve Biko, South African civil rights organiser, who came for the Politicians book and Johnny Marks. He spent his musical career writing Christmas songs, so he has that panache, that flair. We can thank him for Rudolf The Red-Nosed Reindeer, for one! He has been trying to talk to me for some days. I gave in to Rudolf in the end… I was sorry to see Steve Biko leave but he seemed uplifted by the many uses others have made of his words in the battle for equality. A fine man to talk to.

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    1. Always an interesting experience to find out who will come a-visiting next, Antonia.

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    2. Gotta love Rudolf. Were the other reindeer named before he wrote the song?

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    3. try this:
      https://www.cbc.ca/documentarychannel/m_features/the-real-story-behind-rudolph-the-red-nosed-reindeer

      doesn't look as if they were!

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    4. Alway enjoyed Rudolf. Thanks for the link, Antonia.

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  24. Stop The Week, I Want To Get Off (98)
    I managed another visit to the shop and was sorry to cut it short but there ware dramas at home, Out of them came the final parts of my restored bedroom, only taken seven months… a harvesting of bits and pieces helped us finish it off, once B&Q re-opened, that is. We’re not getting excited about our plans, just displaying a little panache, we know we’re not 100% accepted by local tradespeople. We do what we can to show off a little… without making it obvious, apart from the large gold 7 balloon in the window, 7 years!!!

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    1. Seven is playing an important role this week it seems. A most significant number which symbolizes many things. We could ponder on the consequences suggested here for quite some time, Antonia.

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    2. Panache away, Antonia. It's good to see some light in the horizon.

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    3. I like the subtlety of a large gold balloon!

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    4. Another enjoyable slice of your life. That last line "We do what we can to show off a little...without making it obvious." a nice commnet on life.

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  25. The Mad Italian (157)
    There seems too much emphasis at the moment on figures, as if harvesting the numbers of dead is something to be proud of, something to add a touch of panache to the leaders of government who, if they are not careful of their utterances, will find themselves sorry to be in opposition rather than leadership. I sense no coming together at this time of great suffering and life changing habits. No meeting of minds to help the people, not themselves. Sometimes I find my words harsh but in this situation, is there any other way for me to be?

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    1. One thing you can say about Leonardo...he never fails to tell it like it is.

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    2. jdeegan536@yahoo.com21 May 2020 at 00:49

      You are spot on, Antonia. It is quite disheartening to watch our pompous bumble-brained politicians acting as though the world depends on them.

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    3. Who is that masked man? (a Lone Ranger quip). It could be anyone lately. All the masks must make liqueur store clerks very nervous.

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    4. And when an MP furloughs himself and sees no wrong in it ... words and numbers fail me.

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    5. The truth can be harsh, but it's always said to help, not bring down.

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