Having finally got launched on the sixth in my 'Love triangles with murder' series I'll again be hijacking the occasional set of prompts in an attempt to kickstart a scene or build a character's back story. Titled 'Mercy' there'll be little in the way of continuation but I will try and obey the rules and write a stand-alone entertainment.
Entertainment certainly to be found this week, even though Paris was a pain to use; I thank you all for your several impressive efforts which invariably made picking a 'winner' as difficult as ever. In the end, I chose Jim's 'déju vu' because of its near-silent but relentless and nigh-on invisible brand of horror.
New words for the coming week are: early
mate squalid
Entries by midnight Thursday 21st January, new words 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.
Congrats, Jim!
ReplyDeleteway to go, Jim. Well deserved.
DeleteThanks for the entertainment - great piece.
Deleteworthy winner again,Jim! congrats!!
DeleteMany congratulations, Jim. That was such an entertaining story and well worthy of top spot.
DeleteADMISSION
ReplyDeleteColm watched the twelve-year-old medical prodigy pinch and poke Thomas’s skinny lower leg. The tween didn’t need glasses, but wore frames anyway to set off the pristine lab coat which had earlier been a filthy overall of unknown provenance.
She – Karen ¬– had adopted the squalid garment and cared for it like a lost puppy, nursing it to its current incarnation.
“Holy Chr–”
“Ah-ah-ah, mate,” Colm cut him off. “No painkillers if you finish that thought.”
Thomas deflated. “Is it so bad you need all that?”
A cheeky grin. “Nah, you’re fine – just hate you.”
Colm was suddenly fascinated by shoelaces.
I think I'd curse too if prodded and poked by a twelve year old prodigy. Quite a world here, Perry.
DeleteEnjoyed the phrasing of Karen caring for the garment and 'nursing it to its current incarnation.'
DeleteThat description of Karen's caring for the garment SO intriguing
Deletecrisp dialogue to go with the crisp lab coat... intriguing stuff.
DeleteI know I'm echoing much of what has gone before, but the word "intriguing" is just so apt here.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 134
ReplyDeleteAtlas sat to attention; ears flat and snout wrinkling.
Sarg nodded her assent to speak.
‘Least weasels ; a dam, an’ her brood; got a war-rat army an’ a horde of gerbils. They’re aimin’ fer base burrow, Sarg. We gotta be ready.
Sarg bristled, ‘‘Ow long.’
‘ Early sooner ’n later Sarg.
Found a ‘alf dead gerbil who spilled ‘is snout after Cinereus saved ‘im.
Nigel an’ our mate Tosca reckon the burial burrows, an’ the pangolin Palace with its secret burrow are good places to secure: Squalid, stinkin, ’ an’ revoltin’ fer visitors but deep-dug an’ easy defendable.’
Nose wrinkling at this - and I loved 'Early sooner ’n later'
DeleteA gerbil spilling his snout is an interesting concept. Very entertaining, Terrie.
DeleteLoved the description of Atlas, and I agree, their choice of burrow sounds an excellent place to secure. :)
Deletethis world is so real it leaps off the page at you. Great stuff
DeleteSo much to admire here, but I do believe "'alf dead gerbil who spilled 'is snout" is my favourite of this latest episode.
DeleteNewsmakers
ReplyDeleteThe attractive news anchor said their conditions were squalid. Less than human. She stood there in her red Channel 8 News goose down jacket and announced to the world what filth they lived in.
Cedric told his tent-mate he wasn’t putting up with it. It wasn’t their fault. Many people had the misfortune of having no home.
The next morning, on the Early Show, another anchor stood in an identical red Channel 8 News goose down jacket. This time to report of the suspicious demise of one of their own.
Should I feel cheered by this?
DeleteExcellent choice of title, and I'm curious how many times a new anchor will be sent out this way.
Deletethere's a thought to conjure with, that they would turn on their own like that. Great stuff, John
DeleteSneakily nasty, John. I was NOT expecting that.
DeleteThis Explains Everything
ReplyDeleteTwenty years ago I served as First Mate on a merchant vessel.
Early on the first day of the new millennium we docked in Zanzibar.
Drunk on half my wages I found myself in a squalid flea market. An antiques trader sold me a lamp he swore had once belonged to Aladdin. It should have been something to laugh about when I sobered up.
But it was an act of global terrorism. The Genie I released set out to destroy civilisation. 9/11, ISIS, Trump, Brexit, Covid, it’s all down to my stupid and reckless, booze fuelled shenanigans.
There's more than a grain of truth here, I fear ... or there could be.
DeleteDrinking up half ones wages is never a good idea. So, can we blame the genie??
DeleteVery curious about what the narrator wished that set off such madness, or does the Genie have freedom to act? This would explain some things...
Deletewould explain a lot of the nasties we have to live with!
DeleteSo now we know how it all really happened and in my book, this is a reasonable explanation as any. Great writing from an impressive imagination.
DeleteBetter Late...
ReplyDeleteI wait patiently in this squalid setting that was once a venue for joy and hope. I am probably early. I always seem to be early. He will surely be here soon. My heart's desire. My true soul mate.
The grime of time has discoloured the lace, dulled the satin, and still, I wait.
How long? Who knows? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?
I have lost track, but long enough for this place of elation and expectation to fall into disrepair.
But it will resurrect, as will he for whom I wait.
He for whom I wait...here...in this dismal eternity.
This is superb, Patricia. I read this and saw Mrs. Havisham from Great Expectations. 'The grime of time'... beautiful use of language.
DeleteDesperately heart-breaking.
DeleteI'm quite taken with this also.
Delete...once a venue for joy and hope. Not a good place to wait for ypur heart's desire. Very nice, Patricia.
DeleteSuch sadness with those lines 'I am probably early. I always seem to be early. He will surely be here soon' especially with what we know is coming.
Deletea novel's worth of sadness in those lines. Beautiful stuff.
DeleteTHE UNWELCOME PARTING OF LOVERS IN THE GARE DU NORD
ReplyDelete“Gran, how beautiful!”
“Notorious for lovers’ murders.” Gran grabbed my wrist, “She was beautiful. He was married. Their squalid affair done; she wanted him once more.” Gran’s passion frightened me. “Her pull was strong. He arrived–eager and early. She shot him then herself.
“Dying, he swore it was an accident. But she confessed. She wanted punishment.”
“Was she imprisoned?”
“She was too beautiful. She attempted suicide many times, finally succeeding she rose to meet her soulmate.”
I hid my smile, “You are a romantic.”
“I met my soulmate in the war.”
“The Englishman?”
“Yes,” Gran hid her wrist.
------------------------------------------------
Hi, thank you for your comments, sorry I didn’t post any, I can’t seem to figure out how to do it from my iPhone but I’ll keep working on that. Just not sure my comments will end up in the right place. Also, I note the categories you’re seeking–trust me, this will be horror. At 100 words a clip it takes a while to get there. But perhaps I should just jump right into it. Maybe next time. Congratulations, Jim!
Ooh, a continuation, just as I wanted. Thank you Dona (and, guilty myself of lacking horror much of the time, no-one will castigate you for writing as entertaining as this.)
DeleteI was hoping you would keep this going. You have a way of ending with a bang, leaving me wanting more. A good quality to be sure.
DeleteVery curious about Gran hiding her wrist. It sounds like she has numerous fascinating stories to tell.
Deletewrite some more, follow it through, it will be good, believe me!
DeleteSo happy to see a second installment. I loved the Edgar Allan Poe feel to the title. Gran hiding her wrist leaves much room for speculation. I love tales that end in such a fashion.
DeleteVisitors
ReplyDeleteThe Mourning Dove comes to my courtyard early every evening. There was once two of them but now there's only one. I hear they mate for life, which may be why this bird is alone and melancholy.
A squalid existence if you ask me, pining for that which is gone. Move on. Get over it. Out with the old. In with the new. Well, that's my philosophy anyway.
But I must go get ready now. My new gentleman caller will arrive soon and I still have to don my captivating black gown with the red hourglass-shaped motif decorating the bodice.
You have so any voices, Patricia, all enticing.
DeleteGet over it... you grieving dove. I like Sandra's reply, about your many voices. I wonder if the gentlemen caller knows he may be next?
DeleteOooo love the hint with that captivating dress. I agree with Sandra, you are definitely skilled with voice and scene.
Deletethe tightest writing imaginable and our imaginations fill in the rest, and how!
DeleteRegrettable distraction [Threshold 332]
ReplyDeleteI stared as Mendit and escort grew yet nearer. 'Whatever his early promise, something went badly wrong. Long enough ago for me to think he failed to ensure the continuance of his line – you'd need a bag over your head to mate with him now.'
'But breed he did. And his rise, from some squalid shepherd hut to –'
'To desiccated obscenity – Raven, it hardly merits admiration!'
'He, he – shit, what IS your name? I know you claim you told me –'
'I did not, It was O’Bedrun let it slip –'
'O’Bedrun. Yes. Who failed to breed with you.'
Someday, Raven, as well as us will learn her name. All this mating and breeding... a nice way to put it.
DeleteSo close to her name! Loved the tone of her voice in: 'To desiccated obscenity – Raven, it hardly merits admiration!'
Deleteoh this serial is so entertaining, so much going on and yet there's still time to build pictures in our minds.
DeleteOh, so near and yet so far. I seem to remember that you actually stated that our protagonist DID have a name...known presumably only to you and to her. The suspense is absolutely agonizing.
DeleteChange of focus [409]
ReplyDeletePettinger could see all too well how Sally Vicksen would interpret Philly Stepcart's near-nakedness as squalid. Would cite damage to Aleks's tender sensibilities, not knowing (not her fault) he'd witnessed corruption from the cradle. (From conception if you believed in the possibility of such early sentience, though the knowledge that he somehow – internally? – experienced the mating of himself and Alek's mother was … disconcerting.)
But the lad at least had the wit to seize the plateful of cakes from her unprepared hands, before they became ammunition, and the charm to take a bite and thank her, as she backed away.
Oh, forks, I spit on my keyboard. Thank goodness you didn't post three in a row or I would have, well... let's leave it at that. (This is meant to be in response to Sandra Davies' two hilarious posts, let's see if I've got it in the right place.)
DeleteLoved the phrasing of that final line. I also laughed aloud. :)
DeleteYes, Alek's tender sensibilities aren't really that tender. I'm trying to recall his mother. Was it Carmella or some similar name?
DeleteJohn, you're not the only one struggling to remember; it was Valdeta, though I can't now remember whether or not she's still alive. Nor what happened to the baby daughter.
DeleteI like it... all those intriguing bits lost forever... go digging, see what goodies are revealed...
DeleteThat Aleks is certainly a chip off the old block. He is wise beyond his years, that's for sure. How you manage to keep the momentum going here is outstanding.
DeleteTo Travel Hidden [3]
ReplyDeleteI am not afraid, I chant soundlessly, fingers knotted in my skirts. I ignore the sound of claws to my left. The witch promised they won’t hurt me, but chills still skitter across my arms. The ship lurches, and I groan.
There’s a thump, then a flash of lamplight as the door slides open — revealing the squalid state of the floor, and hundreds of eyes, glittering like black diamonds. Nuarthan steps inside, and I lurch up to grab his arm. “We’re there?”
“No.” He smiles mockingly. “The first mate says it’s too early yet. We wait on the tide.”
Deliciously dark - you have such a talent for creating atmosphere with well-chosen words.
DeleteShe's not afraid, so she says, as she chants and knits her fingers and skitters chills down her arms. Nice writing, Holly.
Delete'...eyes, glittering like black diamonds.' This arouses many ominous thoughts. Very nice, Holly.
DeleteYour tales are always a feast for the eyes, Holly. Some beautiful phrasing here...so many that I'm hard put to select just one. And so, I won't.
DeleteShe's not afraid, so she says, as she chants and knits her fingers and skitters chills down her arms. Nice writing, Holly.
ReplyDeleteMy delete button disappeared. No need to read the above comment.
DeleteALL delete buttons have disappeared - not sure why. Blogger HELP has one unanswered query on the subject dated June last year, fingers crossed it will resolve itself ...
Deletecomputers and sites appear to be doing what they want. I had a tea break, came back and my computer has the icons down the side, rather than along the bottom... I shall just get used to it and it will revert back, for sure. There's some delightful descriptive writing here.
DeleteDEJU VU – ALL OVER AGAIN?
ReplyDeleteLike the year before, a friend and I steered to the bank of the Chusoveya River and intercepted an elderly woman, the same woman from a year earlier.
Though nonplussed, I asked, “Remember us?”
“Qui, but you are decades early this time. Things change.”
My “What?” brought no reply, so I asked, “Have you no mate… no family?”
“Non.”
We again took her downstream to the town. It wasn’t there. Incredibly, the contemporary town of a year ago had become a squalid strip of seriously neglected wooden buildings.
Baffled into silence, I looked at the woman.
She smiled. “Things change.”
Shades of Brigadoon or maybe Shangri-La...or, upon reflection, maybe neither but just something reminiscent. I am thoroughly intrigued by this and will likely be difficult to live with if it doesn't continue.
Delete@We again took her downstream to the town. It wasn’t there. Simple but very effective.
DeleteNice, Jim. An entertaining little series you have here. Things change...
DeleteCurious how easily the woman seems to accept whatever is happening to bring her back again and again.
DeleteThe Joys of Mediumship Ni 39
ReplyDeleteThe best thing a medium can have is confirmation. A example happened yesterday: JMW Turner was here talking about his paintings. He’s so casual, so much like a mate even though we haven’t known each other very long. I mentioned his visit to a medium friend who wrote back ‘Joe used to come here (Hoyland) to paint. He still drops in occasionally.’ Early days yet but there is channelling going on. At last. These are artistes, nothing squalid here, no gory battles and slaughtered kings… they’re for another book already building. There are so many to work on!
I have no trained eye for art, but I do know what I like when I see it...and I do like the works of Turner. I remember seeing quite a few of them when I went to the Tate one time.
DeleteI think it would be quite fascinating to hear from long gone artists. Turner's work is beautiful.
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (133)
ReplyDeleteIt’s too early to say the island’s Covid numbers are really coming down but there are a few positive signs that the lockdown is working. Now to hope the virus doesn’t make a mate of the variant and provide the scientists with more work which will take forever to research and resolve. Work generally is halted, the clearance man will have to wait a bit longer before he ventures into the squalid mess that is the water damaged stock piled high on the floor. I am resigned to waiting for restrictions to be lifted, but only just.
We seem to be taking one step forward and two steps back over here. The minute numbers improve, then certain restrictions are lifted and a couple of weeks later, we're back to square one. I do hope this thing plays itself before the end of yet another year.
DeleteThat should read: "plays itself OUT before the end..." I had to add this since I was unable to delete the original post. Now that's annoying...!!!
DeleteThe Clearance Man. Sounds like a character in a horror story.
DeleteWhenever it seems to get better, something new appears.
DeleteI agree with John about the Clearance Man. :)
The Mad Italian (190)
ReplyDeleteToday the inauguration will happen, and those who believe the two countries can again be ‘mates’ will be right. The scenes in the Capitol building were squalid, not fit for any President. For those who follow his pathway through ‘politics’, support if you feel it is right but be aware and wary for loud talk and posturing covers many a dangerous thought. I was asked, have there been other leaders like this, yes indeed. Sometimes the overwhelming need for power is suppressed, mostly it comes early to the forefront and the country suffers. The US death toll is an example.
(for anyone catching up with this ongoing saga, this is THE Leonardo da Vinci who is incapable of leaving politics back in his time but who is busy dusting off his ego and leaving comments for you through me. Just another job for spirit… (LOL)
I'm glad the Italian has political motivations. Makes for good reading.
DeleteAnd yet again, Leonardo has his finger firmly on the pulse. I have hopes for the upcoming presidency....maybe not exactly high, but hopes nonetheless.
ReplyDeleteAnd this was meant to go as a "reply" to Antonia's "Mad Italian" post not a separate comment. Again, unable to delete....yada, yada, yada.
DeleteI am also hoping America's future is turning.
Delete