Despite flow charts and spreadsheets, re-writings
and a new starting point, my current
novel has refused to make any progress this week, thus my inability to add
scenes – i.e. no reason to write – is making me bad-tempered. All the more
reason, therefore, to thank you for the encouragement given by your comments on what I did post here.
I’ve said before, I’ve no interest in “winning”
because, as most of you know, that’s not, and never has been, the raison d’être
of this site. I assume, like me, participants primarily welcome the opportunity
to exercise writing muscles by attempting to match in quality the best of what
appears here and thereby entertain. Motivation is personal. As host, my weekly obligation
is to choose three words and to name those who particularly entertained me. This
week (and remembering Jim won last week) I name three who regularly
contribute do so; all very different, all superb: Terrie for ‘SAS
Diaries entry 112’, David for ‘Sisters are doing it for themselves’ and Patricia
for ‘Collared’.
Words
for next week: amuse decrepit platform
Entries
by midnight Thursday 9th July , words and winners posted Friday 10th
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.
A tough decision for #1 last week, but Terrie, David, and Patricia are certainly deserving with their splendid entries!
ReplyDeletethe ccnsistency of tight writing, high standards and intriguing storylines are the hallmarks of the three winners from last week. Well chosen they are too!
ReplyDeleteAntonia... I want to thank you for inviting me to join The Prediction a couple of years back. It is a truly enjoyable experience, and it is a pleasure to read the stunning entries submitted by you and our fellow writers each week. Many thanks!
Deleteyou're welcome, it's been a worthwhile time for sure.
DeleteMany thanks to Sandra for including my humble little tale in the same company as such excellence as Terrie and David...to say nothing of the other incredible talent found herein. I would also like to echo Jim's comment to Antonia and thank her for putting me on The Prediction Path. I feel I have come a long way since my first pitiful submission.
ReplyDeletePatricia, even though I've watched with admiration the ever-increasing development of your writing, I have to say you never were 'pitiful'!
DeleteI think I saw your invite to join The Prediction on the Den of writers Sandra, and I am so glad I took up the offer. My writing has improved such a lot since I started submitting. I feel I am more confident about my writing too.
DeleteTerrie, you're the only one who stayed - greatly to the benefit of all who come here to read.
Deleteit's like any gathering, the ones who are meant to be here and enjoy the companionship are the ones who are here. It's like talking with old friends every week.
DeleteThe Birthday Party
ReplyDeleteThe decrepit old man was not amused. He looked at his watch and read the board above the platform. Three minutes late.
Finally, the train arrived and his sister stepped off gingerly. Decrepitcy ran in the family.
“You look like shit,” she said.
He took her bag. “What’d you pack, encyclopedias?”
“I hope you have soft food,” she said.
He rolled his eyes, as if there were another kind. “You’re just like mother.”
“Don’t remind me. How does she look?”
“Like she’s a hundred.”
“I hope we don’t live that long.”
He opened the door to his Rambler, and she got in.
Jagged and, I suspect, horribly real dialogue and situation. (Wherein lies the horror.)
DeleteLovely scene-setting here, John. One can only wonder what this reunion will result in.
DeleteSounds like a fun time ahead for all John. At least the daughter made the trip for her mother's birthday. I wonder if mom will remember her? This is a good tale of melancholy.
ReplyDeletethis is all set for one of those dreaded meetings where nothing is right... so well depicted.
DeleteReturn Ticket
ReplyDeleteThere was this kid that no one liked. Always running to the teachers if he got a slap.
To amuse ourselves we tied him up, took him onto the platform and dumped him by the decrepit ruin of the newspaper stand. Told him the gruesome ghost train was coming down the line.
We were too dumb to understand how quickly exposure can become a fatal condition.
Now we’re in a young offender’s institute. And so is the kid. Every night he materialises in the dorm. Pale and wan. Whining endlessly – “I’m telling on you. I’m telling on you.”
An entertaining read, David. Kid will be kids I guess.
DeleteAnd, to some extent, haven't we all a tale like this we could tell? Like John's, the horror is all too near the surface.
Deleteit is indeed a reflection of childhood cruelty which we all know of and deplored but how to stop it? This brings horror to the top in fine style.
DeleteI think we all knew a kid like that at one time or another. Hopefully, he or she didn't meet the same fate as this one. What a delightful "out of the box" tale that shows true creativity.
DeleteThe Amusement Room
ReplyDeleteWelcome to the Amusement Room. You will note that each platform offers a different type of entertainment. Some of the gadgetry appears decrepit, you say? Well, most of the gizmos have been heavily used.
You decline to participate?
No such option, I'm afraid.
You see, this room is not for YOUR amusement.
It's for ours.
Entertainment? It appears that someone's curiosity is going to cost them dearly. Very clever, Patricia!
DeleteAmusement takes many forms. To be chosen for this room would be horrifying.
DeleteFull-on horror, implacably told.
Deletethere we go with killer last lines again! brilliant one, too
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 113
ReplyDeleteArmi stifled an amused smirk, ‘yer secrets safe wiv me Nige,’ then he nodded toward Tosca and Atlas busy at the log, ‘cum on, there’s a couple of grubs there with our names on.’
At their approach, Tosca unburied his head from inside the log, ‘I wuz thinkin’, he said, ‘we need t’know these invaders better ‘afore we take ‘em on; that decrepit gerbil cud tell us more.’
As Nigel started to reply, Trub reappeared from the undergrowth, ‘A small platform of rocks, where we can set the contraption and an’ a stinky but abandoned honey-badger den nearby,’ she reported.
And now I'm curious about the contraption, and whether it has anything to do with persuading the gerbil to talk.
DeleteIve been curious about this contraption for some time. I liked the 'busy at the log' line.
DeleteYour writing flows so smoothly, Terrie, and is a pleasure to read.
Deletegreat instalment, sets up some interesting scenarios to keep the reader moving on.
DeleteHoney-badgers? Aren't they the most vicious creatures known to man? I do hope our 'dillos don't run foul of any of them. Otherwise, much like everyone else, my curiousity contnues to grow regarding that darn contraption.
DeleteChange of focus [384]
ReplyDeleteAmused at Sally’s misinterpretation of what had gone on between himself and Philly Stepcart – possessive already, after only one night! – yet needing, for professional purposes, to keep both women sweet, Pettinger made sure his greeting platformed gratitude – ‘Sally! Aleks has just messaged me in praise of your sister!’
He was rewarded with a smile from Sally and a sudden shaft of interest from Stepcart.
No reason not for personal either – he not yet so decrepit he couldn’t satisfy two women (though he preferred them one at a time.)
But Stepcart’s mind was elsewhere. ‘I want to ask you about Aleks.’
It rarely works keeping both women sweet. I like this turn of a jealous Stepcart. Looking forward to hearing more. Always a pleasure, Sandra.
Deletehow many men think they can cope with two women and come crashing down because of it... nice episode, Sandra, sliding us deeper into the story every week.
DeleteSuffering lies ahead for any man who believes he can keep more than one woman satisfied. Pettinger is asking for it.
DeleteI agree with Jim. Pettinger might well be heading for more than even he can handle if he doesn't get a grip. Marvellous installment...as always.
DeleteTHE GLORY OF IT!
ReplyDeletePain hurts… but in a glorious, exhilarating way! I adore it!
I love how pain arouses the human body… how it provides a platform for awakened sensations to be expressed and appreciated! Oh! the glory of pain… of agony, of anguish, of intense and sustained torment!
Pain makes us feel alive!
Even the most feeble and decrepit of us can be elevated to a new and welcomed awareness by the dark yet mystifying power of pain
Pain cleanses our souls!
And if perceived correctly, pain provides amusement. And I, again in need of pain’s pleasures, shall seek my next victim.
Little subtle about this - except the telling of the tale.
DeleteThis started with a bang and kept on banging the whole way. Very well done, Jim. Here's to not being the next victim.
Deletethere's another of those very dark and nasty little stories you do so well!
DeleteI fear we have something of a masochistic AND sadistic character on our hands here. How totally fascinating. I do hope we hear more.
DeleteTaking my chance [Threshold 307]
ReplyDeleteI leapt up, forcing Raven to do likewise, only then realising this settee set upon a platform which gave me height enough for eyes at equal level (something hitherto they’d only done in bed.)
Amusement exchanged memories. His fingers no longer limited themselves to tracing words.
I was more than willing for Kitten to find us in flagrante. Disuse had rendered me too desperate to fear decrepitude, despite the arid desert sand, and my fingers had not forgot how to render him full-functional.
But why did he leave me there? Why lie?
And what the hell was she? To him?
You maneuver these two complex characters so skilfully and leave me wondering, like the nameless one, about Kitten. You kind of have a jealousy theme going this week.
Deleteoh those tip tumble questions that baffle the mind and cause a lot of wrong thinking, very well portrayed here, Sandra.
DeleteSuch searching questions, the answers to which we are as eager to know as our protagonist. I just love the phrase "in flagrante. Such a delicate way of saying it.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 238 - Hamnet's Quandry/Part Three
ReplyDeleteHamnet, delivery boy for Elsie's Dairy, discovered his long-lost trolley in the weeds near the Dining Car. It was the worse for wear, broken-down with a missing wheel. Miss Elsie would certainly be cross at its decrepit state...assuming he could ever take it and find a way out of the Junction. Little success thus far.
"Seems the turnstile to the Arches is now operational," said the Station Master.
Hamnet squinted along the platform.
"I'll be allowed to leave that way?"
The Station Master was amused at the question.
"Perhaps, my fine young fellow. After all, nothing ventured..."
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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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Once again, it is your precise and careful choice of verbs that elevates this serial to something special. Especially enjoyed 'Hamnet squinted along the platform'
DeleteI really like this one, Patricia. Hamnets failed attempts to leave the junction and the mockery of the station master were so entertaining and telling. Nicely done.
Deletewill he, won't he... methinks he won't but I bet he tries... lovely instalment, Patricia, loads of things to create the picture of this strange and wonderful place. Or should that just be 'strange'...
DeleteHigh Diving
ReplyDeleteMichael regretted his associate degree in platform diving from UCLA. Not many jobs in the field... he should have listened to his father. He parked his decrepit El Camino and walked to the gate of Phil’s Emporium of Daring Amusements.
“You must be the new diver,” Phil said, holding out his hand.
“I am.” Michael eyed the rickety ladder and the small tank.
“One hundred dollars per dive, like we discussed. You can start now.”
“There’s no water in the tank.”
“There will be, don’t worry. You can change over there.”
Michael groaned inwardly and walked toward the tents.
Stomach-churning, this, John, when one can't but help consider the possibilities
DeleteMichael as the 'new diver' makes one wonder about previous divers - until the exchange about water in the tank. Nicely done, John!
Deletenow that's a seriously nasty one...
DeleteFor a while there, I thought Michael might have entered an alternative Kursaal. Regardless, sounds like Phil's Emporium will be equally as menacing. You are on a superb roll this week, John.
DeleteNot exactly romantic
ReplyDeleteTwo days into this honeymoon cruise he was already regretting getting wed. As they entered the Cromarty Firth she pointed at the half-dozen giant Meccano-like structures, whose surfaces, barnacled and bobble-edged with rust, added to the impression of decrepitude, her shriek of pseudo horror near deafening him.
‘What the –?’
He glanced. ‘Gas platforms. Here for …’ Renovation, he well knew, but ... ‘It’s a Matrimonial Challenge. Being filmed for the telly. Brides jump in and husbands have to rescue them, swim to the platform and climb up. First to the top gets five thousand pounds.
‘One, Two, Three – Go!’
Damn. Edited out 'unamused' from her shriek of horror.
DeleteThe dialogue in this is great. So complex, but easy to read. I'm certain the husband will rescue his bride... or not.
DeleteMy bet is that this unhappy hubby will choose becoming a widower over the money. A wonderful opening paragraph, Sandra!
Deletenow there's a devious quick witted husband thinking his way out of a matrimonial trap... beware, all you wannabe brides!
DeleteThe marital state obviously grew tedious in next to no time here. Talk about ill-gotten gains. Yet another magnificent stand-alone...but I'm not surprised.
DeleteMuch Needed Compassion
ReplyDeleteThe statue stepped from the platform and confronted the protesters.
“So, you would destroy me… for just doing my job in uncertain times?”
Marylou spoke up. “You represent repression and bigotry. Plus, you reek of decrepit mildew.”
“Well, I have stood for over two hundred years.” This brought an amused murmur. “And there's the pigeons.”
“Perhaps we could spare you, if you repent your ways.”
“No, I would rather be toppled. I have no method to voice my beliefs that you would understand.”
“I’m willing to listen,” Marylou said.
The statue shrugged his granite shoulders and began to speak.
He'll be lucky to get a hearing.
Deletelovely thought, following through all these deposed statues! great.
DeleteYour creativity really shines in this entry, John.
DeleteCreative is certainly the keyword here. A somewhat futuristic scenario that dovetails so nicely into current events. Did I already mention that you're on a roll this week, John?
DeleteThe Joys of Mediumship no 12
ReplyDeleteThe main visitor so far is Pyotr Tchaikovsky, amusing me by switching from formal to ‘chat’, saying he’s pleased to find his music still appreciated. Other composers say the same. Their music is being given a platform still. There is nothing decrepit about the soaring pleasure of Ode to Joy, for example. Heartbreak, this brought the memory of Jane Seymour coming in hysteria and tears to tell me ‘I didn’t want it!’ and to horrify me with the news the child was cut from her to save its life, at cost of hers. Some messages are very hard to write.
Venturing into the Tudor Age. My favourite period of English history. I knew Jane died after giving birth but had no idea of the actual horror. As always, Antonia, you entrance with the tales of your visitors.
DeleteIf I'd been asked to spell Tchaikovsky, I would've failed every time I tried it. I too knew nothing of Jane's death. How horrible.
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (105)
ReplyDeleteNot amused, refectory table, yes, we can buy it. Then the guy sells it over the weekend and tries to palm us off with other bits. Sometimes customers and sellers can be impossible to deal with. Garden tools stored in a decrepit metal locker me busy with new display platforms…and loving my new screen, shaped Perspex set in a wooden block. It’s classy, different, unique; like the shop. Shaun’s discovered epoxy, there are more goodies to come… and still the work goes on. Each day is another step forward as it is with the ‘new normal’ we now live with.
You shop does indeed sound unique. I would love to rummage through the many treasures I'm sure can be found within its nooks and crannies. Some of which, perhaps, even you have forgotten about.
DeleteNever a dull moment at this place. I loved that last line about the new normal. Where's the reset button of life?
DeleteThe Mad Italian (164)
ReplyDeleteI freely confess to being highly amused this week by an item about the re-opening of galleries and exhibitions. It said ‘we get a chance to review the Mona Lisa and find it an indifferent portrait.’ At last, truth is spoken! The format, the paint, everything about it is decrepit and it should no longer have its revered place. It matters not, there are many other paintings. The arguments go on in the world about the virus; each has chosen their platforms and staying with them, even if they’re wrong. There is no hope for a cohesive solution to this.
I was appalled to read recently that it it barely possible to view the Mona Lisa for the speed at which one is hustled past it, and the forest of held-high mobile phones snapping it. Whoever permitted phones to be used in museums and art galleries deserves to be shot.
DeleteI'm sure not even cameras were allowed last time I visited an art gallery...cell phones weren't around at the time. In fact, I recall seeing a work by the Mad Italian...don't recall the name unfortunately, but possible "Cartoon"...that was displayed in such low light in order for preservation. Sometimes I think we have forgotten how to honour and respect the old treasures.
DeleteIt's interesting to hear the Italian speak of his work. And a mighty fine body of work it is. I'm not surprised by his attitude about the Mona Lisa.
Delete