so I’ll just post last week’s equally
merit-earning winners, which were John’s ‘Utopia USA’ and Patricia’s
Cripplegate Junction episode 234 –– and
come back to tidy up later.
I was glad to see the Shadow had
other plans for Jim and totally agree with his comment about the wonderful
verbs choice of Patricia’s – I read somewhere that’s possible the most
important thing for vivid writing.
Words
for next week: distinguish pursue, sodden
Entries
by midnight Thursday 18th June , words and winners posted Friday 19th
Honour to share top spot with you, John. Congratulations...!!!
ReplyDeleteAnd thanks to everyone who post here for the enjoyment they bring every week.
Kudos to both John and Patricia for their well done stories.
DeleteThanks, Patricia. I am doubly honored to share the spot with the creator of one of the greatest feline characters since the Chesire Cat.
DeleteTo John and Patricia... well deserved honors last week to you!
DeleteJohn and Patricia, many congrats! Keep the good work going, please
DeleteChange of focus [381]
ReplyDelete‘There!’ DI Pettinger paused the film. Thrust a finger at the screen. Enlarged the image so the sodden heap that was Dodger dislappeared, to home in on a face that had, at the last minute turned for another triumphant glance, seconds before the camera-man swung round for a final shot
‘Bollocking Christ! He’s just a lad –‘
Philly Stepcart’s voice shamed and shattered,‘ And already distinguished himself for his enthusiasm for a particular type of cruelty.’
Pettinger stared. ‘You know him?’
Eyes shuttered. Shuddering. ‘Ways you don’t want to know.’
Grimly, meaning it, ‘I know I’ll pursue him unto death.’
Pettinger can put a bloodhound to shame when he has a target. A well done episode.
DeleteThat one word, there, in Italics, was perfectly done. Set the whole scene so well. Very nice, Sandra.
Deletehow to racket up the tension...
DeleteThis is truly getting intense. Can't wait for what happens next.
DeleteI'm Back 3
ReplyDeleteHomici dam’Donari was enjoying his food. Fear has such a nuanced flavor, in these animals. The young female lay on the blood sodden sheet. His surgical sharp claw made another cut.
Sweet with a hint of cinnamon, delish! His clawed finger jerked. The female squirmed, her eyes showing a hint of life.
“Has God answered my prayers for mercy?”
“God never existed! A distinguished friend, who I thought dead, has returned for a visit.”
He plunged the claw into her heart, killing her instantly as he howled.
“You ruined my dinner, R.J. For that, this time, your pursuit will end.”
And you said you weren't good at horror....
DeleteNice work with the claw.
This is deliciously devilish, Jeffrey! Nicely done!
DeleteNice work with incorporation of the prompts, Jeffrey. Quite the horrific scenario there.
DeleteSun-tumbled into disappointment [Threshold 305]
ReplyDelete‘Anglia?’
I ignored him.
Muttering, Raven continued to finger-trace across my back. ‘Could be directions – A place. Your place?’
I shrugged. ‘S’pose.’ Sleep-sodden with sunbeams, I was disinclined to humour his pursuit of my past. Born after the end of Before, Marauders, and whoever else, had become indistinguishable. Land hunger part of it; the greed, the need to flee from become desert and head for fertile edge. Anglia bulged eastwards into the ocean.
He persisted. ‘But why? Who wrote it? The man who brought you here?’
Ah. He could’ve been Marauder-descendant. ‘I assumed you’d sent him. To fetch me?’
‘No.’
I thought Raven had sent him as well, dang. As I read this, for some reason, it occurred to me there could have been some kind of event, some catastrophe that put them in the situation they're in. Often times the landscape is desolate and the people are on the rough side, which would could fit this concept. As for 'Anglia,' I'm not convinced it's a place.
DeleteEast Anglia most certainly a place, John, consists of Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex (at least)
DeleteA surprise ending for a good episode. I must ask, what is the setting for this series?
DeleteSetting? Goodness knows, it varies and flits around, as does the time it is set - nil in the way of continuity either. This is probably the first time I've actually put a name to it.
DeleteI'm originally from one of those far-flung Anglia places, and emerged without an Essex accent, whereas my daughter couldn't be from anywhere else...
DeleteRaven continues to be enigmatic, dangerous and ever interesting. Wish the same could be said for some of the Kindle Unlimited I've downloaded lately - and deleted. This is far more interesting but the chapters are too short... (LOL)
Aha - another Essex girl, Antonia? But from the very top RH corner, and Suffolk ever in sight, so accent already muted (and all the more so for having lived in Teesside for 45+ years)
DeleteSo, will we ever find out the origin of this mysterious man, I wonder? So, Raven did not dispatch him...or so it seems. I sometimes wonder if Raven is completely truthful in all situations, but I tend to trust him on this one.
DeleteAspiration
ReplyDeleteThe moon plays hide-and-seek with the clouds. Footsteps that pursue me along the passage carpeted with rain-sodden leaves are subdued yet deliberate. They quicken as I quicken. Tarry as I tarry.
I glance behind. The silhouette on my heels is tall, gaunt and yet exhibits a distinguished air. With an intake of breath, I shelter within the safety of the shadows.
Blood bubbles in his throat as I relieve him of his valuables.
Chimes echo from the clock tower. The hour is still early. With a little luck, I may well surpass my long-standing nightly tally.
Three down...two to go.
Excellently described and delivered - full-on atmosphere.
DeleteThief with a quota to make or assassin with a contract to fulfill. Well done using the prompts to enhance the setting,
Deletemoody broody setting and some very nasty undertones - and overtones, come to that!
DeleteTalk about turn-about... very well done, Patricia. The chimes from the clock tower were perfect, the icing on this delectable cake.
DeleteThe Generation Game
ReplyDeleteAs many as fifty of them had been tossed from the bridge in the futile hope that they would drown.
They emerged downriver, school uniforms sodden, bloated bellies, hair bedraggled.
In juddering momentum they pursued a group of adults as far as the weir.
From a rooftop a sniper tried to pick out their leader. But it was the fifth attempt to cull them and it was getting harder to distinguish the alpha.
The adults ran at them with pick axe handles and cricket bats, knowing with a despondent fatality that what got knocked down would surely get up again.
if you're looking for cold blooded generation war (forg4t the 'game' you won't find anything be4tter than this. Harrowing images emerging from 100 words of sheer terror and bloodshed. Great stuff, David!
DeleteHeavens, David. This very, very far from my 'chosen' reading, but from what you've written here I could easily become addicted.
DeleteNice to see that the some in the younger generation can learn from experience. A different take on a zombie apocalypse.
DeleteSuch a clear and vivid description of a hopeless situation, David!
DeleteYou're banging it up this week, David. Very tight, very vivid writing. Good stuff.
DeleteAlthough this bears no resemblance to the plot of "Lord of the Flies," for some reason, those are the images that sprang to mind. Perhaps it's the mention of school uniforms or relentless march as they emerged from the river that conjured such pictures. So reminiscent of Jack and his troupe of choir boys.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 235 - Grand Reopening?
ReplyDeleteViolet could not distinguish the platform edge from the train tracks, so dense the billowing smoke. She struggled to her feet, black lisle stockings sodden with tepid tea from the seeping urn, and reluctantly abandoned pursuit of the elusive Crossing Canteen key. But the moment she resigned herself to its loss, there it was in the lock!
Had it actually been there all this time?
Once inside, she secured the door, pocketed the key and decided to make a batch of tea cakes for the Station Master.
She went to the pantry for supplies and disappeared into the darkened storeroom.
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To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale please visit:
http://www.novareinna.com/cripplegate.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
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If a closet can take you to another world, why not a pantry. I was surprised by that enjoyable last line.
DeleteThis definitely a case of 'curiouser and curiouser' (but much more my cup of tea!)
DeleteYou seem to be ramping up the tension at Cripplegate lately. I'm with Jeffrey on the mysteriousness of the pantry.
Deleteit's the pantry and the (possibly missing and then there again) key which intrigues. So many mysteries at Cripplegate Junction...
DeleteIs there a chance Violet will be pleased with her destination? How subtlety you lead us to your gangbusters' last line, Patricia.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 110
ReplyDelete‘Sarg’s message was clear,’ said Armi ‘set up yer contraption an’ be ready. If Moloch’s out there he’s a force t’be reckoned an’ loonier ‘n a slug on stalk powder.’
‘It’s that damn weasel who worries me,’ chipped in Nigel. ‘Did y’see any distinguishin’ marks or catch a name? We dunno if there are more of ‘em wiv her either.’
Atlas shook his head, ‘I know the gerbils are so sodden’ scared of her they‘ll do anyfink tho’.’
‘Could we get em on our side?’ Tosca asked.
‘Now there’s an idea - the kinda idea Sarg’d pursue n’all,’ said Nigel.
Applause here too, and a second round for your use of 'sodden'.
DeleteNice to have you back, Terrie, and with yet another very entertaining episode.
DeleteVery entertaining, Terrie. You did a great job of using several characters to tell this snippet of the story.
DeleteWhat a well done story to return with, Terrie.
DeleteMuch anticipated return of the 'dillos...and you did not disappoint, Terrie. But then, you never do. How lovely to see them back and in such fine fettle.
Deleteoh my. the dillos are back in style! Tosca stirring it up with the gerbils idea... more please, and no staying away again!
ReplyDeleteA match made in heaven
ReplyDeleteCarlton Chambers was anything but distinguished, though he alluded to it outwardly.
Inwardly, he was a sodden lout in pursuit of the higher prize. He found this prize in one Penelope Prior, pseudo-heiress to the Fetzer Institute via several well timed marriages.
At dinner, Carlton fidgeted with the wrong fork.
“I’m not sure if I could do that,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I misjudged you.” She held her manicured hand up for the check.
“Wait, I can do it. Which board member needs to go?”
“Well, all of them, frankly, but it must look like an accident.”
This 'match made in heaven' appears destined for Hell, John. I enjoyed the way you exhibited the moral flaws of these two.
Delete"At dinner, Carlton fidgeted with the wrong fork" - so much said, so subtly.
Deletegeneral nastiness to come, take your pick of the way you'd like the board members to be despatched... lots for the imagination, John!
DeletePenelope Prior...what a magnificent name for such a nefarious character. This has your stamp of quality all over it, John.
DeleteTo quote Allan Parsons, "But the game never ends, when your whole world depends on the turn of a friendly card."
ReplyDeleteWhat well done descriptions for Carlton and Penelope.
A CHOICE MADE
ReplyDeleteHappiness scares me,
I’m the man who rejects
Shelter beneath a towering tree
In a blizzard
Because what he pursues
Still lies beyond.
So he forges ahead
Through the snowy fuzziness,
Believing that each sodden step
Brings him nearer
Rather than takes him farther away.
The distinguishable blindness
Of a thousand flakes
Bursting upon his eyes
Is more acceptable
Than the dark reality
Of clear fields of nothingness.
Thus he struggles on,
Sharing his mind with emptiness,
His heart with weariness,
And his soul with loneliness.
But in this
He discovers the comfort of choosing
His own way of death.
For a poet, the poem needs to bring the reader in such that they see themselves in the poem. In that and with me you succeed extremely well.
DeleteDetermination and toughness shown here. I could feel the impending doom before the reveal. Very well done, Jim.
DeleteBeautiful piece that warrants several readings in order to absorb the full intent in the words. We see far too few rhyming submissions in this forum but when they are as focused as this, they are well worth the wait.
DeleteI’m Back 4
ReplyDeleteI briefly touched my nemesis mind. To call it a cesspool would be to compliment cesspools.
His angry maniacal laughter fades as I guard my mind. I wander the streets of this unfamiliar yet marvelous London. Technology’s cacophony so beautiful, yet so attractive to the debouched.
I killed two in an ally. Idiots! Bringing knives to a spear fight. Magic isn’t a distinguished science, anymore. You charlatans! You sodden magic with your pursuit of ineptitude. Relying on their willingness to believe. You fleece them as they are entertained.
A song about Willy Wonka, catches my ear. The Candyman. How appropriate.
You expose evil so well in this entry, Jeffrey!
DeleteThe Candyman would be an apt name for a serial killer if he adopts it. Nice job in revealing his evil mind.
DeleteInteresting peek into the mind of what is likely a serial killer. I like the idea of technology being a cacophony.
DeleteThe Joy of Mediumship No 9
ReplyDeleteI‘ve been asked many times how I distinguish one visitor from another. It’s easy, they come with trademarks, Wallis Simpson has a jacket which must be sodden with her favoured perfume, Joy, and the duke of Windsor seems to pursue any chance for a cigarette. There’s one confusion I need to be aware of: a medium friend shares his first name and his love for endless cigarettes… Currently composers are pushing their way in, I‘m content with that, the music is refreshing after ‘teen through life’ pop music! Rossini has been shouting ‘The Thieving Magpie’ at me for hours…
The music is a definate bonus, thats for sure.
DeleteWhat a wonderful cast of characters. I'm interested to know if they wait to make an individual entrance or vie with each other for attention at any one given time.
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (102)
ReplyDeleteThe shield is being created today – solid wood base, curved Perspex, it’s got to be outstanding as we are planning on being outstanding. It’s the goal we’re pursuing, anything and everything to distinguish us from the opposition. We’ve seen the coming and going of others, one went in six months; the other is on her way out. I cleaned the newly arrived cheval mirror today with sodden kitchen towel, thinking how good it is to be useful and create something full of light and energy. The cabinet is clear, awaiting its move, the faces at the window say hurry, hurry…
Outstanding is an admirable goal to strive for. I've no doubt you'll achieve it.
DeleteI imagine you will have to practice social distancing upon eventual reopening, but how those on hold will be chafing at the bit. Sound as though you are more than happy to be occupied right now.
DeleteSounds as if you are well and truly sparkling!
ReplyDeleteThe Mad Italian (161)
ReplyDeleteBeing magnanimous with a smile is what distinguishes the PM from his associates. He has rightly changed his stance on school meals, despite the fact he has no idea of true poverty. His need is to pursue the popular pathway to assure the people of the UK he has their wellbeing in mind. There are rains to come, it may be that the intention be swept away with the sodden mud swept towns, suffering from lockdown and flooding at the same time. As if one catastrophe is not enough for them. Politicians will always latch on to things like that!
Tragedy does seem to be compounding upon tragedy of late. If I were of a more religious persuasion, I might be muttering "Armageddon" about now. Does our Mad Italian have any thoughts along those lines?
DeleteRan out of time today. Will return tomorrow with comments.
ReplyDeleteNothing like catastrophee to take minds off current issues.
ReplyDelete