Next week I’m away to Leith and Portobello, to take photos for the covers of ‘Drink with a dead man’ and ‘Snap is not a children’s game’. The following week a wedding anniversary treat. On both occasions I shall be away Thursday and Friday so have scheduled new prompt words to appear on Friday 25th September and Friday 2nd October, but I ask each of you to nominate your favourite from this week and next. I shall be back inbetweentimes, so if I have cocked it up (again!) I ought to be able to remedy.
This week, every piece held a similar quantity of appeal, and on different days a different style appealed, or a particular phrase snared my delight. Because they were all so close, I’ve resisted naming each, but say, at this moment, after what must be a fourth read-through of them all, I’ve decided Perry’s ‘Lookout’ was my top favourite.Thank you all for your participation..
Entries by midnight Thursday 24th September, new words posted Friday 25th
Yours was a superb choice for top honors, Perry!
ReplyDeleteNicely done, Perry. This was an outstanding tale easily meriting top honours.
DeleteThanks immensely. As we'd say here, I'm lured stiff.
DeleteThanks immensely. As we'd say here, I'm lured stiff.
DeleteCongrats, Perry!
DeletePerry, delighted to see you get No 1 spot! Congratulations!
DeleteParadise
ReplyDeleteThe South-Atlantic Armistice, under guise of a multi-national treaty, reared its ugly head as Covid stupefied the island inhabitants. Dropping like spent moths, there were but a few islanders left to activate the codes if the orders were to come.
One by one, sun bleached, sand textured covers slid open and elevators rose as the pristine beaches became dappled with missile stalagmites awaiting launch.
From his hospital bed, Chairman Kokoy ripped out his ventilator, drew a ragged breath, and pressed the send button.
Ohhh,I can see this last vituperation happening. "missile stalagmites" luvvit.
DeleteGreat title for this splendid doomsday piece, John. Great second paragraph!
DeleteYes, indeed, the 'missile stalagmites' got me too.
DeleteLoved the phrases 'Dropping like spent moths' and 'missile stalagmites.' I can picture the sun-bleached quite vividly.
Deletethe scary thing is,. we can identify with this and that's worrying!
DeleteSuch a current and up-to-the-minute entry. Very nicely composed, John.
DeleteThe Meek Shall Inherit
ReplyDeleteThe orchids were bountiful. Their scent perfumed the air. They colonised the marshy canyon beds which had once been the mighty Atlantic and spread in vast legions across the moss covered hummocks of fallen cities.
Dorsal sepals the texture of flowing satin would vibrate to sing of mythical bipeds. While the allure of their seductive labellum stupefied bees and caused them to hum in harmony.
At night an eerie ambition would stretch their stems skyward. In audible sigh they would indulge in the unified dream that one day they might boldly go to seed the stars.
Puts me in mind of a HG Well short story about carnivorous orchids and of old Amazing Stories comics. Nicely done.
DeleteSO novel and creative, David, and rife with vivid images. A very entertaining read.
DeleteThis was really entertaining, David. I enjoyed the colonizing orchids and the mythical bipeds.
DeleteReminded me of a Henri Rousseau painting - not comfortably, because there was one outside the headmistress's office which I often gazed upon.
DeleteLush and evocative. Loved the imagery of the orchids spreading across the canyon beds and the dorsal sepals 'vibrating to sing.'
Deletemelodic and yet fearsome in many ways, the end of everything, the possible start of new things... captured in a few words. Brilliant.
DeletePoetic and mythical. Who could ask for more from a magnificent tale of such limited length?
DeletePRIVACY
ReplyDelete“Sounds like we may see around an attic large enough to touch another continent or two.”
“What?” I wasn’t really interested. My eyes delved the mundane texture of the newspaper as I nursed a post-lunch pint, as if I could lose myself in those long-dead trees.
“It’s cryptic.”
My forefingers pulled back the top of the paper momentarily to view the trespasser before allowing it to spring back to sentry duty.
“No kidding.”
“The crossword.”
He was reading my puzzle page.
A fanciful notion had me stupefying him with the rolled up version.
Instead I sighed. “Atlantic.” It’s an anagram.
This reads like a much longer story with the conversation and inner thoughts. You pulled it off well, Perry. I too would like to whack him with a rolled up newspaper.
DeleteWhy I hate doing crosswords on a train ... yes, as John says, larger than the sum of its words.
DeleteI enjoyed how the narrator's annoyance is coming through. :)
Deletethere's a lot going on in this 'segment' of life, Perry, emotions showing and still telling the story. Nice one.
DeleteI loved this. Captured so perfectly in its exchange and conclusion.
DeleteElemental
ReplyDeleteThe ship pitched sideways, throwing Kit into the wall with a startled curse. Coaxing her magic down into the soles of her boots, she glared at the stairwell ahead of them. “We need to get above deck.”
Eileen, swaying beside her, blinked away the stupefied look from her pale eyes. Irritatingly, her balance seemed unaffected by the ship’s constant lurching. “Do you feel that?” she asked.
“Yes.” Halfway across the Atlantic ocean, they’d weathered their share of storms, but this… this stunk of elementals.
The floor rippled, the textured carpet disappearing beneath a layer of blue.
“They’re on the ship.”
I would love to read a longer version of this as it makes one want more. Nicely done Holly.
DeleteAs always this tantalises with the idea it is just the opening and there's lots more to come. But I know my asking who are 'They' will go unanswered, and all that remains is to enjoy what you have allowed us to.
DeleteThe future looks mighty bleak for "They," Holly. I hope they make it above deck. An intriguing read!
DeleteThe motion of an Atlantic-crossing vessel is captured so vividly here. I do hope the reference to "They're on the ship" is merely a foreshadowing of more to come.
DeleteI loved the phrase 'the textured carpet disappearing beneath a layer of blue.' Such crisp, smooth writing! Nicely done, Holly!
ReplyDeletethese prompt words have brought out some exciting ideas - this is part of that - so descriptive.
DeleteChange of focus [395]
ReplyDeleteOn hearing a name he'd striven to wipe from his mind, a name associated with the most depraved chapters of his family history, John Pettinger near choked.
Stupefaction evident, disbelief wide as the Atlantic, 'R-Raptor's confession? I don't… how, how… I didn't even know there was such a document.'
'You're calling me a liar?'
Philly Stepcart's question fit a well-worn groove. Training kicked in. He watched for tell-tale tics. Listened to the texture of her breathing, the timbre of her voice. The red/yellow flicker of eyes that had already mesmerised.
Recalled she was a journalist.
'Yes. Until you prove otherwise.'
I'm trying to recall if I'm familiar with R-Raptor... if he's appeared before. Either way, I'm up for becoming enthralled with the depravities of Pettinger's history.
DeleteJohn, mainly episodes 23 (where he is described as 'Hooded black and yellow predatorial eyes; time-streaked, shaggy feather-fingered mane reaching beyond shoulders) to 58. Claimed to be John Pettinger's (aka Yanno Petzincek) father, but that probably a lie.
DeleteI was particularly taken in by the 4th paragraph, Sandra. 'tell-tale tics... texture of her breathing... timbre of her voice.' So much said in so few words.
DeletePettinger's examination of Philly was also my favorite with 'Listened to the texture of her breathing, the timbre of her voice.'
Deleteonce again you've captured so much in single sentences, the one Holly quoted got to me,too.
DeleteThis was a lovely confrontational installment with a few nice reveals too. Pettinger continues to fascinate.
DeleteExhaustion [Threshold 317]
ReplyDeleteEyes the texture of toast crumbs, brain stupefied by the strain of convincing Raven I capable of driving across a desert in an unknown direction, I declared I needed sleep. Questions as to where we were going and what the situation we had come from – including what the hell was she to him? – would have to wait. 'How do I stop the lights?'
'Change seats, I'll do it.'
Suspicious, 'You know how?'
His smirk deserving of a smack, 'Of course.'
Unknown hours later, shocked awake by voices with a shouting twisted cadence I didn't recognise, I queried, 'whatthewhattheshittingduck?'
'Radio Atlantic'
I like how you come back to 'what is she to him?' I look forward to this new adventure in the strange place where Radio Atlantic is picked up.
DeleteSandra, I love this "Eyes the texture of toast crumbs". Great fresh metaphor to bounce into this next powerful spisode in the adventures of Raven
DeleteThe description from the first line was my favorite too, as well as the phrase 'voices with a shouting twisted cadence I didn't recognise.'
Deleteoh definitely 'eyes the texture of toast crumbs' - startling imagery and something I would never have thought of, no matter how wild my imagination!!
DeleteOnce again, you have me dithering as to the era in which this is set. Sometimes, it seems in past times and sometimes more current. To be able to juggle that and make both believable is a true talent.
DeleteTHE BOX VII
ReplyDeleteWasted-man is Randy Dobson, known beyond The Box as the Route 66 serial killer. Skeleton-man is Rudy Gonzalez, the terrorist who blew up three Federal buildings. And Nick… he died, without legs and arms. The bones climbing the walls are remains of miscreants deposited for decades in The Box. Storms fomented by the angry Atlantic provided drinking water, which was captured in overturned skulls. And food… the menu is limited.
These things I learned during my first week.
Moreover, once stupefied by starvation, I learned that Rudy’s left arm, though the texture of raw, rotting chicken, didn’t taste so bad.
Glad I am I had a meat-free breakfast. This is casual, throw-away horror at its best.
DeleteI think Randy, Rudy and Nick are in the right place, though I'm sure the MC is questioning his desicion to enter the box. I'm glad he is finding food...
DeleteUgh...an excellent and horrible final line. Also grateful I didn't eat meat today. :)
Deleteand I did have m eat... but it was some hours ago and has had a chance to be digested before I began trying to distance myself from the horror of this instalment. Then I thought, just enjoy it... so I did.
DeletePuts a whole new spin on "winner, winner, chicken dinner." I wonder which other nefarious and despicable characters we will find residing within The Box. I can't wait to find out.
DeleteRoom With A View
ReplyDeleteHarold is a thrifty man. The cost of an Atlantic cruise leaves him stupefied. But the thought of exotic ports of call, where foreign cuisine is mouthwatering, sights are breathtaking and my toes wriggle with delight buried in the texture of silken sands, defines ecstasy.
A substantial windfall enables me to purchase a luxury liner stateroom. The panorama is spectacular. Harold, of course, disapproves of the extravagance (he is a thrifty man), but I persuade him to come along. Unfortunately, his vantage point is, to say the least, limited.
Not much to see from the interior of a steamer trunk.
This is SO viciously entertaining, Patricia. I'm sure Harold is overjoyed that his lady is having such a grand time.
DeleteI am in awe of the skill which, week after week, you present us with these small-but-deadly miniatures.
DeleteA free cruise for Harold it seems, as long as he keeps hi voice down in the stezmer trunk.... that is, if he can speak.
DeleteOooh I was not expecting that! Very curious if he first entered the stateroom in the trunk or outside it. :)
Deleteoh oh, another Patricia 'take you by surprise' last line and what a clever one, too!
DeleteBIRTHDAY
ReplyDeleteThe cutthroat razor chased the loosening skin across the neck like surfers chase Atlantic rollers, soapy greying hairs the curdled surf.
It wasn’t a particularly old-looking face, so the owner was a little stupefied at the numerals associated with this birthday.
“Any older and they’d be Roman,” he joked with the unsmiling reflection. It looked a lot older when sombre.
The actual texture of the shaven skin professed to that of a younger man, though not as young as the mystified inner self still shy of anticipated adult insights.
“Youthfulness is no consolation,” he breathed and started on his wrist.
Superb opening line! And intriguing finale.
DeleteA splendid entry! Nothing more be said.
DeleteLoved the imagery of that first line with the razor chasing the skin 'like surfers chase Atlantic rollers.'
Deletewell, that settles my chosen one for the week. Perry, that's one hell of a description, vivid and so so sad.
DeleteSorrowful, yes...but with such a sense of self-awareness. This reminded me somewhat of Janus, Roman God of Doors, Gates and Transitions, who represented a middle ground and could see both sides of any situation.
DeleteThank you all - wonderful to get such incisive feedback ... and then for it to be positive?! Wow!!
DeleteThank you all - wonderful to get such incisive feedback ... and then for it to be positive?! Wow!!
DeleteThe Joys of Mediuumship 23
ReplyDeleteStill no new visitors but Scott is still around and seems to be content to spend time with my husband, Antony Woodville KG, whose laugh has the texture of silk wrapped rock, the only way to describe it… I cannot begin to describe how stupefied I was when he walked into my large office, saying ‘hello’ and me saying ‘Antony!’ I’ve had many past lives, as we all have, both here and across the Atlantic, I have met many past life husbands but this man is my great love. He was in the 15th century, he is now.
Makes me wonder about any possible past partners I might have had, together with some irrational fears that I'm unable to associate with anything in particular. For instance, I have a huge aversion to being under water...not in water, just under. Even going through those under water tunnel things at seaquariums with sharks, etc., swimming overhead, summons an irrational fear and not of the creatures. Must be enlightening to have past acquaintances visit and provide perhaps forgotten notions.
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (116)
ReplyDeleteNo car hunting, rotten cold doing the rounds and Shaun does not do colds, or illnesses or injuries, very well… he said his throat had the texture of wire wool – not something I want to imagine.
I was stupefied by the contrasts in the days, yesterday devoid of customers, today, first day of shop workers required to wear masks, flat out… and enough rain to look like a part of the Atlantic outside the shop… the mask is a pest, steamed up glasses, constant pulling it off and putting it on… no way can I wear it all the time!
I am so with you on those masks, Antonia. My nose constantly itches and I can't wait to detach the thing from my ears once I'm within safe distances. Loved the likening of rain to being part of the Atlantic. How well do I remember those days!
DeleteI also love the imagery of the rain as the Atlantic. It instantly conjures a wet and stormy vision to my mind's eye.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (175)
ReplyDeleteFrom across the Atlantic the young ex-royals make statements that would be best left unsaid but there is a need in the ex-duchess to constantly express her views. She should learn to curb it. For the rest, the errors, the reversals, the nonsense is totally stupefying and will not be forgotten. The virus, with its spiky exterior, has the texture and nature of something unpleasant. Ask how much is scaremongering and how much is genuine effort to control the uncontrollable. Much that is being speculated on in your newspapers is more accurate than you really want it to be.
Methinks Harry and Megan might have much to learn about being discreet from our Esteemed Mad Italian. And...I had totally forgotten the virus had a "spiky exterior." Just know it's a total pain in the arse and the sooner it gets on its bike, the better..!!!
ReplyDeleteNow for my top choice of the week. Have to go with David's "The Meek Shall Inherit." The beauty of composition coupled with vivid descriptions and unique voice won me over. I also loved the perception of future hope. Something we could all use a little more of these days.
ReplyDelete'The Meek Shall Inherit' is my pick too. I was instantly transported to an alien world while reading it. :)
Delete