I’m away next Thursday and Friday. I’ll schedule new
words Friday morning but hand over to you the task of choosing a favourite from
this week’s posts, and naming it on
Friday. I do so with some relief, especially because, as early as Wednesday
morning, I knew selecting a ‘winner’ this week was going to be, in the nicest
possible way, a nightmare. However, has to be done.
Jim’s ‘The sight below turned my breath to ice’
and Holly’s magnificently awful ‘Every sated breath he takes is one from
my sister’s lungs’ are just two examples of the many high spots, buts top prize
this week goes to David for his ‘We’re All Mad Here’ whose first line was
so wonderful (and the rest to-the-point, and breath-takingly gruesome )cured me
(albeit maybe only temporarily) of my knee-jerk antipathy to poems what rhyme. And
I do feel bad for not mentioning the rest of you … Thank you indeed for ALL
posts, so thoroughly entertaining.
Words
for next week: abstain nothing shroud
Entries
by midnight Thursday 13th August, words only posted Friday
14th
Winners to be named by you
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.
Although I hope not to repeat it, but remembering the mess of scheduling I made back in February, I do think it would be sensible to have some sort of back-up – a deputy, a sleeping partner – for Prediction. Unless called upon to take over, there would be no need for whoever to be excluded from being chosen as favourite.; the main requirement is to be a reliably regular participant here, of which there are several. If interested and/or willing to be nominated, let me know.
Definitely last week's standout, David. Many congratulations.
ReplyDeletesuperb writing, David!
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 118
ReplyDeleteWe know they’re all fer attacking’ us, but nothin’ about where. Any ideas, little mate?’
Moses nodded, ‘Yur the only critters organised and able to resist.’
Nigel shook his head. ‘Alone it’s impossible; but wiv Varks and Pangolins, maybe.’
‘Weasels have a rat-army y’know,’ added Moses, ‘the first place they’re gonna hit is base-burrow.
The shrouding silence of the den ricocheted with cries of alarm.
Armi, who had so far abstained from speaking, said loudly, ‘We gotta warn Sarg.’
‘I was goin’ tomorrow, but I’ll leave soon as its moon-dark,’ Atlas bellowed in his friend’s ear.
Your 'shrouding silence' perfectly encapsulates the brooding concern in this scene of worried consultation.
DeleteThis is such an engaging series, Terrie... so well-constructed and interesting. I look forward to a new episode every week.
DeleteGlad you are enjoying it Jim. Although it started out with one of the three word prompts and I didn't realise it at the time, its grown in the telling and you are now reading my novel as it happens.
DeleteI expand on it each week after posting the weekly prediction contribution and am currently just finishing chapter eight. I have a sort of plot plan but no end in sight yet.
brilliant episode and brilliant news, too!
DeleteExciting episode, Terrie. So, in your novel, which is great news by the way, is Armi your main protagonist?
DeleteAlways a joy to read about these escapades every week. I bet the expanded versions are a true delight.
DeleteSnap: post Theo’s arrest
ReplyDeleteNothing so crude as a blanket had been produced to shroud the guilty men discovered collecting from the absent Lucy’s apartment. Having unnecessarily abstained when asked their names, they retained their anonymity behind a veil of wealth and influence, aware revelation would bring public disapproval, severely damaging their futures.
And to the outrage of the police, their crimes were wafted out of sight from several ranks above.
In retaliation, plans were hatched to convert dealer to cuckoo.
‘A crooked cuckoo?’ someone asked, not knowing then said cuckoo would soon be crying, when he heard of the death of his son.
Very sparse but expertly chosen wording knitted together to show a huge amount of information Sandra. This is something you do so well.
DeleteI really enjoyed the phrase 'retained their anonymity behind a veil of wealth and influence...'
this is good, sharp writing, vivid images. More?
DeleteKnowing someone got away with something under the veil of wealth leaves a foul taste in ones mouth. Smooth writing, Sandra.
DeleteVery nicely put together, Sandra. I love the "crooked cuckoo."
DeleteLament of a Graveyard Suitor
ReplyDeleteMy Aurora Lee lies wrapped in her linen shroud beneath the clammy loam. Her light unjustly extinguished by my murderous rival.
And I am cursed by my temperance vow to abstain. No ale has kissed my lips. I am sober in my grief. I am nothing, a naught within the hollow void of mourning.
The sky is moonless. The cemetery trees are silhouettes of crooked claws. The wind whispers dark promises.
An apparition shimmers to substance. She is here. My Aurora Lee. My love. Reaching with seductive ectomplasmic tentacles to draw me to a cold and fateful embrace.
This is absolutely brilliant David. I've already read it several times. Its so atmospheric and full of sadness. That hint of horror at the ending draws you back to it again and again. Very well done
DeleteReading this, fresh after what has been a daily dose of Heathcliff, via Ben Myers' poetry, I can't help but cast it in similar vein. As Terrie says, the dark emotion of it, the title and the choice of such as 'clammy loam' are so evocative. One to return to, definitely.
DeleteA wonderfully macabre read, David. From start to finish this is a gripping tale. Well done!
Deletea brooding moody piece, so well done.
DeleteA beautiful bit of prose, David. A good reason to avoid graveyards, that's for sure.
DeleteThis is true "Twilight Zone" horror or maybe one of those "Night Gallery" episodes. Definitely one to send shivers up and down the spine.
DeleteChecks and balances [Threshold 311]
ReplyDeleteWhat better could a sibling offer than the roaring, skin-slid ecstasy we’d just shared? Unless depravity appealed? A question I refrained from asking, since nothing would surprise me about Raven’s shrouded, ever-shifting inclinations, and well-knowing, were he so inclined, he’d not abstain from demonstration. (So why did I remain so enamoured? So in thrall?)
Wanting, in several ways, to move on, I asked, ‘You have access to transport? An SUV such as Marauder Man brought me here in?’
‘You can drive one?’
A twitch of potential admiration worth lying for. ‘Of course. You find us one, we’re ready to go.’
Yet another great series Sandra; so much to enjoy in this. What a brilliant pairing you have created . Both emotionally damaged and drawn together in a damaged world. You expertly give the reader a sense of the emotions they feel and that carries us so easily with them as they make their journey.
Deletethere's much to take from this, much to carry into the new intalments, it has that characteristic, the ability to be complete or part of.
DeleteRaven's shrouded, ever shifting inclinations... kind of nailed his ways in one sentence. Perhaps the sister is just a step sister and Raven feels it would be okay to sample her wares.
DeleteI am with our protagonist...nothing would surprise me about Raven's shrouded ever-shifting inclinations either. He is such a fascinating and complex character.
DeleteTo Answer The Call
ReplyDeleteCeremonial origins are shrouded. Participation obligatory. No option to abstain.
Distant strike of metal-upon-metal assaults the ears like nothing else. It is the Smithy, plying skill with hammer and anvil to ensure a blade sufficiently honed for its intended purpose.
This is a worrisome time. Voting tokens not issued until dawn on the given day. The trek is laborious. Leaden legs and heavy hearts. The iron ballot box is foreboding. Hands tremble as numbered markers are deposited.
And prayers are offered to the gods by fearful parents that the name of their child does not appear on the nominee register.
Colourful, doom-laden and ringing with sound - and so imaginative.
DeleteWow, Patricia! This wonderfully drips with dread.
DeleteWow is right Jim, Patricia has the knack of really whacking you in the face with her imagery down to a fine art. 'The iron ballot box is foreboding' 'leaden legs and heavy hearts' totally captures the mood here.
DeleteWhat an awful sense of feeling and place you have described Patricia. You make me feel I can guess what happens next yet the atmosphere you have created makes me really need to know. Great writing.
this is incredibly mood laden and so traumatic, with anticipation of sorrow to come. Loved it.
DeleteHoly cow, Patricia. What a thick layer of tension you've placed over this tale. Well done.
DeleteTHE BOX III
ReplyDeleteI landed clumsily and felt the ground rudely greet my face. I pushed myself upright, shook the blinking stars from my eyes and looked around. Abstaining from pure horror failed, for nothing within my mind’s borders reasonably explained this.
What I saw when shoved from the chopper was no illusion. Four walls surrounded an open expanse of earth. Upon the earth were scores of bones pushed into piles against the walls. And among the bones were human skulls.
I shuddered and tried unsuccessfully to ward off a chilling shroud of hopelessness.
A voice came from behind, “Welcome to Hell, friend.”
Under some circumstances "friend" gives a measure of relief. Not sure that is the case here.
DeleteI can see we are going to have some difficult choices this week as this is another brilliant piece of writing.
DeleteWhat a dark sense of foreboding you have created with this continuation, Jim. What a mix of emotions it brings.
It most certainly makes me fearful for this persons safety and even sanity now they are in the box.
It reminds me not to go poking my nose into places that are not my concern but equally it makes me ask what the heck is this box place. - I cant help but want to know more. What a solidly intriguing hook of a story you have created .
writing around but not actually saying what the box is adds to the dark mystery of this serial, which grows darker by the week.
DeleteThis was visually...horrifically and deliciously...a total delight. What visions but I'll happily suffer the nightmares for such a reading treat.
DeleteWhat a place this Box is. Man, a real terrorizing experience. I can't help but wonder if the MC regrets his decision to visit. If this is truly Hell, there must be other boxes around the world to hold all the sinners out there.
DeleteChange of focus [389]
ReplyDeletePettinger assembled his team for a briefing.
‘Dodger was one of many children stolen from the streets and forced to participate in porn movies by a woman known as Omega. The whole operation so well-shrouded I knew nothing about it.¬‘
‘Stepcart discovered it?’
‘Aye.’ He’d abstain from giving details. ‘When novelty wears off, they’re ‘allowed’ to escape. Not knowing they’ll be filmed doing so, and end up starring in their own snuff movies.’
He put up the appalling selection of stills. Pointed to the last. ‘We’ve identified one of the cameraman.’
‘Another victim?’
‘No. But he’s about to become ours.’
This is an area of cinema to steer clear of. So creative to take this slant on Dickens's work, Sandra.
Deletethe prompt words disappear into this like mist, absorbed into the storyline, which continues to hold the attention.
DeleteI agree with Antonia. The prompts words disappeared for sure. I'm certain they're there...but in all truth invisible.
DeleteOne never wants to star in one's own snuff film, regardless of the aspirations. I really enjoyed this glimpse into Dodger's background. Very telling. What a great cliff hanger at the end.
DeleteThird wife
ReplyDeleteThat the blanket box contained a body was unexpected. A body not so much shrouded as bandaged. Wound round, herringbone-fashion. And not the usual once-cream cotton or linen but strips torn from some patterned whole which, more closely examined, suggested it may once have been an ancient map.
You forced a debate about the merits of unwrapping – what condition would the body now be in? – offering diversion as to the staining properties of ichor. Abandoned it when I abstained from comment and you read my distaste.
Mis-read I should say, for it was nothing more than irritation at your ignorance.
What a corker of an opening line Sandra and a brilliant description of the body wrapping.
DeleteAlthough the body discovery was not expected you have none-the-less created a sense that the writer is no stranger to bodies, wrapped or otherwise.
The prompt words simply faded so easily into the text I had to go back and look for them .
you see, Terrie had the same reaction as me to the way you lose the prompts in your stories, Sandra! this is excellent.
DeleteNow this was essentially magnificent in every respect. Luverly stuff!
DeleteYou're hitting on all the cylinders this week, Sandra. Not many V-8s these days, but surely a turbo charged V-6.
DeleteThe Bray Chronicles
ReplyDeleteThe abstaination of Bartholomew Bray was accomplished under a shroud of secret desires. He felt he was cured, healed from his afflictions, ready to begin anew.
Even as he watched the Moroccan choir boys perform in the park, he felt nothing; no inklings at all concerning their eventual demise.
Suddenly, one was before him.
“Please sir, would you care to contribute to our choir?”
Bartholomew’s knees practically buckled. He swallowed to moisten his words.
“Why yes, lad. Follow me while I retrieve my checkbook.”
The abstaination of Bartholomew Bray could wait just one day.
Seems as though Bartholomew needs to work a bit harder on his abstinence routine. The devil... I doubt he tried at all.
DeleteI have to agree with Jim, I doubt he tried, too! Cleverly written to lead us to that conclusion, so next week's instalment will reveal a little more. I hope!!
DeleteYES...!!! The return of Bartholomew Bray. I was hoping he'd come back and in such fine fettle too.
DeleteThe Joys of Mediumship no 17
ReplyDeleteSomeone I did not expect to visit looked in this week, Stephen Lawrence, the English example of racism on the streets and in authority, too. His murder case has been rendered inactive, a formal shroud for a young life. His family won’t abstain from seeking justice, which is what he came to say. As it happens, his message follows George Floyd’s, which pleases Stephen very much. So many correlations between the two of them. It’s good for me to bring people together like this. It’s also told me nothing should surprise me at who wants to have their words immortalised.
I marvel at your ability and talent to keep these visitors separate, but that is probably the comment from one who has never experienced such occurrences.
DeleteYou must have nerves of steel, Antonia. I'd be a wreck if I were visited, by anyone at all, which I'm kind of glad I'm not. Despite the allure of new knowledge and experiences, I'd be afraid. I do enjoy your tellings here.
Deletemissed a prompt word first time... sorry...
ReplyDeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (110)
ReplyDeleteShroud is an appropriate word right now with Shaun saying his dog Asha, who has been ill all day, has kidney failure and probably isn’t going to make it. She’s been a part of the shop, often coming for the day, greeting customers; nothing phased her. Shaun is going to find this hard, she is his love. I can see him abstaining from getting another dog for a good while. Nothing I can say right now will help. It’s just being there. Meantime we slowly build, small sales, too much heat, no floating bridge to bring the customers to us…
Oh no. How heartbreaking. As one who has lost many a beloved companion, I feel Shaun's pain. But time does heal and although the gaining of one can never compensate for the lost of another, each does, in his or her own way, bring an individual brand of loyalty and devotion...and love.
DeleteA sad week at the shop. A celebration of Asha's life is in order. A good dog is so special.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (169)
ReplyDeleteNothing can make the world look better while this pandemic rages. You are asked, but not all are following this, to abstain from group gatherings, to be sensible about face masks, even if you hate them, they are small compared with a shroud.; There are deaths still to be recorded, still to be annotated and checked and a final figure given to the population. How long it will last is not given to us to know. We should be all-seeing but sorrowfully, we are not. But – everything ends. Everything changes. Hold on. Stay safe. (sorry…)
Wise words from our "Mad Italian" this week. I don't believe he's quite as mad as he might have us believe.
DeleteGreat words from the Italian. I was just thinking how nice it would be to visit my local pub and rub elbows with fellow humans, but alas, probably not the thing to do just yet even though they are open here.
DeleteVote?
ReplyDeletePatricia, outstanding horror told with a sense of total innocence.
Back with my vote later in the event someone posts a late entry for consideration.
ReplyDeleteThat's easy for you to say, living on the west coast. I really can't decide. I'd say, if pressed, it's a three way tie between David, Jim and Patricia's stand alone, with honorable mention to Terri and Sandra and Antonia and me. Greta writing this week. Exceptional in fact.
DeleteOkay, I copped out. Sue me.
DeleteAfter some consideration, I think my vote has to go with Sandra's "Third Wife," not least for the impact of that opening sentence, and runner-up for the sheer classic horror of the tale itself, I'm choosing David's "Lament of a Graveyard Suitor." How Sandra manages to do this week after week is beyond my comprehension. It is very difficult....and congratulations to everyone for making it so.
ReplyDeleteI agree with the above comments about voting being tough. There are such good entries and each with a different shining quality that makes it so difficult to choose just one. Arrgh...
ReplyDeleteI am choosing 'Lament of a graveyard suitor' for top slot.