Another week sped past, enlivened and embellished with dogs and gods and other horrors inbetween (and no-one mentioning a rose garden), which David's "pedigree Egyptian Pharaoh Hound" very neatly encapsulates, thus earning him this week's top spot. Thank you one and all for posts and much enjoyed comments.
New words for the coming week are: husk
initial issue
Entries by midnight Thursday 25th
February, new words posted Friday 26th
Usual rules: 100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or
poetry using all 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.
Great job, David. Many congratulations. I didn't get back in time to comment but I did read everything last week. Funnily enough, Sandra, I was toying with "Never Promised You A Rose Garden" for a while, but couldn't make it work. LOL.
ReplyDeleteWell done David, another brilliant entry.
DeleteCongrats, David.
DeleteCongrats, David! :)
Deletewonderful writing as usual, David, you're consistently good.
DeleteYour entry was an excellent choice, David. Way to go!
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 135
ReplyDeletePink-Fairy interrupted by taking a small, pointy-ended, twig from his handbag and scratching marks into the dusty floor.
Sarg stared: Scribing was a skill lost generations ago when great plagues ravaged the valley and many herds were lost. After her initial shock, she whispered huskily, ‘go on.’
Base-Burrow is here; Burial-Burrows and Pangolin-Palace west across from that,’ Pink-Fairy pointed as he spoke, ‘you dig tunnels between them as far as you can, then be underground more, not the surface. Keep your enemy off balance.’
Knowing a good idea when she heard one, Sarg had no issues with the plan.
Pink Fairy is very able, that's for sure. I bet he gets promoted.
DeleteGood working relationship too ...
Deletethis conjures some great images... good to see the dillos, Terrie!
DeleteThe 'dillos are constantly a delight. I loved the reference to a "pointy-ended twig. It reminded me of Monty Python's "pointed stick." Pink-Fairy appears to be quite the cartographer.
DeleteRyan’s Song
ReplyDeleteRyan was a man of issues.
It started, initially, in 1974 with a sweetcorn husking incident at his uncle’s farm in Des Moines. Ruined his favorite pair of bellbottoms.
After that, the issues started piling up. A fear of cats here, a shellfish allergy there, a failed girlfriend attempt here, a triple-murder at his mother’s boyfriend’s house there… and they kept coming.
Ryan, with his photographic memory, had the ability to replay them all night long, which he did, relentlessly, until they found him dangling from the end of an extension cord.
Ryan was no longer a man of issues.
Definitely a tortured soul.
Deletelike the way the triple-murder is tossed in so casually...and can fully understand why that load of nasties would tip him over the edge...
DeleteYou conjure such images of Ryan's life that one can almost feel sympathy for him. Love the title, which I'm sure is a play on "Brian's Song." That last line is a killer.
DeleteSoul Encounter
ReplyDeleteAcross the Abbey, they initially regarded each other with solemnity.
"Reports of your regal bearing were not exaggerated."
"Nor those of your great beauty."
Compliments silently acknowledged.
"I was a victim."
"You were a threat."
"At worst, I was tricked."
"At best, you were naive."
Momentary pause.
"I had a legitimate claim."
"I had the love of the people."
Another momentary pause.
"You wanted my head on a spike."
"You were the cause of a rebellion desirous of my crown, immoral whore!"
"Barren husk of a woman without issue!"
Elizabeth sighed. "Rest in peace, cousin."
Mary graciously nodded. "And you."
They should make a movie of this concept between Elizabeth and Mary. Or maybe they have, I don't get out much. This was very entertaining, Patricia.
DeleteHard to believe they never really met ...
Deleteit's one of those pivotal points in our history, it could have gone the other way. Superb depiction of what might have been.
DeleteWow! Or as Nigel would say 'Bluddy brilliant!' This has it all Patricia. Love it.
ReplyDeleteWinging It
ReplyDeleteShe had issues with my encouraging birds into the garden from the moment I initially moved next door. There was nothing she didn't find irritating, the mean-spirited old hag. She never stopped complaining about everything -- the coconut husks for nesting material, strips of bacon rind, colourful feeders, marble bird bath and more besides.
Bet she'll have damn all to say about the skewers of raw meat I've just put out for the carrion crows though.
I'm sure you'd attract all sorts of creatures with raw meat hanging about. But aren't we all just raw meat, really? And crows can be very entertaining. They always go for the eyes first, for some reason.
DeleteSUCH a clever, many-layered final sentence!
Deletelovely title and how well crafted is this piece!
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 136
ReplyDeleteDisgruntled comments from Varks and Pangolins peppered the air as they moved without stopping all afternoon.
Clancy, after initial mutterings, curled his tail low, put his shoulders to the breeze and tucked in beside the contraption where Cinereus perched with the injured gerbil. ‘Gawd I need a slug of beetle-blood-wine or cactus-gin right now,’ he sighed.
‘Withdrawal pangs,’ Cinereus said unsympathetically ‘but I kin help you with that issue if you like.’ He leaned down, handing the puffing Clancy a tiny green-husked berry. ‘This is bluddy ‘strong. I kin only give you one.’
‘Wot is it?’
Cinereus grinned and winked.
Cinereus has a little side hustle going, with his little green berries.
DeleteSounds like something we could all do with a small supply of.
DeleteTerrie's back and working at the top of her writing skills!
DeleteA double dose of 'dillos. Who could ask for anything more? One can only wonder at the powers contained in that "tiny green-husked berry" which dictate only one can be dispensed at a time.
DeleteThe Dollmaker
ReplyDeleteAlthough the summer heat was oppressive we kept our windows locked. It gave us a fools’ sense of security. The corn husk dolls proliferated. And on each issue a carved set of initials. Sudden invisible violence visited on the bearer. Sunrise bringing the dread of what the night may have deposited on the doorstep. The victims ostracised for fear of assault by association.
But October came. Leaves tumbled in russet swirls. No more dolls. Whatever seized our town had departed for warmer climes. The wind sighed in proxy of our relief as we tended our lesions and wounds.
Just the title alone made me shudder, which came in handy during this very shudder-worthy tale.
DeleteThis reads as a blurb for a much, much bigger novel; I ache to know the details.
Deleteme t9oo! More please, David!!
DeleteThis was a magnificent use of words to paint a visual picture. It simply screams for a continuation and hopefully, you will not disappoint.
DeleteThat’s Where You’ll Find Me
ReplyDeleteMy benefactor would issue daily missives, written onto corn husk dolls, initialled DG. I kept them in a sack and would lay them out in the evening to see whether the words formed any sort of linear narrative. As far as I could tell they were naught but garbled musings. Yet I followed where she led. Along a dusty brick road, strangled by weeds, to the sad green ruins of a once magnificent city.
There she finally revealed herself, wild eyed and grey haired from decades of isolation.
I proffered my hand. “Dorothy Gale,I presume.”
...naught but garbled musings... I resemble that at times. This was really good, David. My compliments.
DeleteI'm especially entranced by the "dusty brick road, strangled by weeds".
DeleteYou led us down the yellow brick road to a great finish, David. Well done!
Deleteoh, clever one. Very precisely worded to lead us to that great ending.
DeleteAbsolutely loved this. I adore creative takes on standard accepted stories. This was a wonderful glimpse at which might have transpired had a certain little girl from Kansas not clicked her ruby heels together. Now, I'm dying to know what happened to her three travelling companions. Sadly, give that Dorothy is now old and grey, Toto has apparently long since gone to that great kennel in the sky.
DeleteCripplegate Junction/Part 257 - Identity Crisis
ReplyDeleteClive Bailey took the photograph of the boy with the train set back to his seat, now occupied by a red briefcase similar to that which appeared annually outside Number 10 Downing Street on Budget Day. Clive didn't remember it being there before. Folded neatly next to the case was a copy of the Financial Times bearing a blurred issue date.
The case was monogrammed. Decorative initials polished and gleaming. However, the initials weren't Clive's and he failed to recognize them as anyone he knew.
Clive began to doubt his existence.
Perhaps he was simply a husk.
A nonentity.
A never was.
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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.
----------------------------------------------------------
I can't say I blame Clive for doubting his existence - Cripplegate will do that to a person. I don't know how you do this, Patricia, but I'm glad you do.
DeleteNow I'm wondering whose were the initials.
DeleteThese dire feelings Clive is having are indeed disturbing. I hope he doesn't give give up on himself.
Deletepoor Clive, battling all sorts of Cripplegate problems and now this!
DeleteI AM HERE
ReplyDeleteI am here, all around you,
I am everywhere you are.
I can approach you unseen and unheard,
Or be alarmingly obvious.
I can be gentle as a breeze,
Or cruel as a nightmare.
You may welcome me as an emancipator,
Or you may curse me as a sadistic hunter.
You may be in the initial stages of being,
Or you may be a withering husk of humanity.
What you are is not an issue with me.
I am here, all around you.
I am everywhere you are.
Sooner or later you will be mine.
You know who I am.
It's too bad we can't request how this guy will enter. I would choose the unseen gentle breeze.
DeleteBut not for 30 years.
DeleteUttered in a soft, insinuating whisper, no doubt.
Deletescary whispers, cleverly done!!
DeleteThis was chilling, but so very inventive. I am always delighted to see poetry put in an appearance at The Prediction. It happens so rarely and this one is a jewel.
DeleteAlliance [8]
ReplyDeleteThe chamber is warm, and sweat drips down the cut of my robe, dampening the fine fabric. Candles illuminate the walls, revealing lines of sparkling crystal. You’ll be fine, I promise myself again. Despite having taken issue with my deal with the queen, I almost wish Nuarthan was here, glowering at me.
“Silvana Ivreka,” a voice says over the witches’ haunting singing, “do you accept this alliance?”
“Y-Yes.” I straighten, releasing my initial hesitation. “Yes.”
“Shed the husk of your former life.”
The candles snuff out, enfolding me in darkness. Feathers brush my skin, are beneath my skin.
Hello, sister.
Holly, you keep coming up with great stuff here. Very enjoyable.
DeleteI think I too would be happier were Nuarthan there.
Deletenew frightening habits, new scary things to cope with, I feel for her.
DeleteFeathers beneath her skin... what sort of being did this create? This flows so beautifully, Holly. A pleasure to read.
DeleteOoohhh...this is intriguing with a wondrous sense of mystic and mystery. Feathers beneath the skin. What a sensation that does conjure.
DeleteChange of focus [414]
ReplyDeletePettinger had been repelled by their careless cruelty towards Sally Vicksen, even as he knew neither Philly Stepcart nor Aleks could be blamed, since her ever-kind intentions had always been on his behalf. She the one who'd fielded Aleks initial appearance at the station's front desk – a grubby hobbit from whose mouth issued an incomprehensible tirade of husk-rattled words she could not begin to understand. On hearing the child was his son, she'd kept his secret, and could not be blamed for Aleks escape from her so as to accompany him on his mission to ascertain whether Valdeta still lived.
Sally, Stepcart and Valdeta all making an appearance in the same tale. I'm sure Pettinger is thrilled by that.
Deletehow much is being said in so few lines! This story continues to hold us, week in, week out, that takes some doing!
DeleteI am so in agreement with Antonia here. How this story does draw the reader in week after week after week. Not easy...not easy at all...and yet accomplished with such apparent ease.
DeleteWater Then Food? [Threshold 337]
ReplyDeleteI tested Raven's expectations regarding provisions. Each quad-bike slung with leather panniers. The first empty but for three bottles, the colourlessness of whose contents suggested water, but could equally be spirits. I handed one to Raven: 'Get one to try it, If there's any hesitation, it's not what we hope.'
In a second pannier, cardboard boxes. Plain except for the initials WTF. Raven reported the liquid allegedly harmless; the boxes, 'Emergency issue. One a day'.
Dry seeds and nuts. Poor quality, judging by empty husks.
Quad-bikes roared to life immediately.
We left them one bottle. Rode towards the setting sun.
Loved the WTF labels on the boxes. Riding into the setting sun sounds intriguing, possibly a new venture awaits.
DeleteI sincerely hope so John, they set out some twenty-five episodes ago!
Deleteit was good of them to leave one bottle... few would these days... bu8t perhaps it will benefit them later...
DeleteLeaving a third of the bottles sounds pretty humane to me, and riding into the setting sun sounds rather ominous. This was a good read, Sandra.
DeleteThis was quite the survival instinct episode. Love the image of Raven and...damn, we STILL don't know her name...riding off into the sunset.
DeleteKursaal (Episode Two Hundred Twenty Six) - The Return Of Apollonia
ReplyDeletePrimrose Lee was always delighted when Apollonia visited the Kursaal but this time, the initial invitation issued to her cousin (who was proficient at acquiring unusual items) related to both business and pleasure.
Primrose desired cicada husks for inclusion in a very special elixir. Apollonia's mystical skills in preparation of the concoction would also be invaluable. When Apollonia arrived, Primrose had already gathered many of the required ingredients including steeped lotus petals, grated skin of salamander and scarab beetle eggs.
Apollonia arched a graceful and knowing eyebrow at the collection.
"Working on a rebirth potion are we, cousin?"
--------------------------------------------------------
To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale, please visit:
http://www.novareinna.com/kursaal.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
---------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: Primose Lee and Apollonia have both featured in previous episodes.
You have the recipe for that, Patricia? Could be a lucrative sideline,
DeleteYour little parenthetical reminders are very helpful and also add a lot to the story. I like this Apollonia. Having mystical skills would be very advantageous at the Kursaal.
DeleteA rebirth potion suggests many interesting possibilities, Patricia. Let us have some!
Deleterebirth potions would make her very rich, if they work... there is a mix of interesting items in it, who can say whether it will be good? If it is, can I have some?
DeleteTHE AULD TRIANGLE
ReplyDeleteAfter briefly reliving the initial awkwardness of a tension-filled but chaste relationship, stifled by a careless comment over an issue which seemed frivolous in hindsight, Colm and Sally discovered things about each other and themselves which were a revelation of touch.
Both having been control freaks, they drank wildly of the new and heady inebriant of mutual surrender and tasted bliss in each other.
For hours in the cosy husk of an old car, they forgot their sorrows, the danger, and the world. There was no priority but the now.
The door creaked open.
“You’re missing the¬– Oh!” Joanie said.
"Oh!" indeed ... truly delicious beginning, but please may we have a continuation?
DeleteWell done, Perry. It doesn't seem like they missed anything.
DeleteLoved the second paragraph, Perry. Lovely description of what's going on.
Deletedefinitely want the follow on, please, Perry!
DeleteHow could you leave it there? Missing the what...what? Talk about a cliffhanger.
DeleteThe Joys of Mediumship 43
ReplyDeleteBusy week! Politicians and Their Victims is on sale, the ISBN was issued and we are set to go. I initially made a sale over the phone; subsequently made one by email… whilst other spirits are seeking places in other books. They were mere husks but now are coming together very fast indeed. There’s another book building, those from a long way back, Alfred, people like that, which will be exciting. The more I do, the more I want to do. It’s all a learning process which is so good. My reputation needs to be upheld…
All reputations need maintenance, and it sounds as if you are on track. Go for it.
DeleteAlfred? As in "The Great"? The one who burnt the cakes? Now that would be a story worth hearing.
DeleteStop The Week; I want To Get Off (138)
ReplyDeleteInitially I hoped the failing printer could be revived, no chance, but living on hope meant I have yet to tackle the choosing task of acquiring the new one. My biggest wish, though, is that I could and utilise better the plethora of USB sticks so I am not constantly searching for files. How do they get away? Hide in the husk of a dead novel? USBs aren’t issued with How To booklets, so I fall into the same trap all the time. Can’t find the folder, start a new one… impatient spirits don’t help…
My BIG mistake is to assume 'OF course' I've saved it on THAT USB stick so I can delete it from THIS, only to discover I didn't. I've lost loads of photos that way.
DeletePrinters are practically throw away items these days if they quite working. I'm also in need of one.
DeleteWoe are we technologically challenged souls who miss the days when a typewriter or pencil and paper worked just fine.
DeleteI have dozens of those damn things hanging around. Keep meaning to check them out and see what they hold, but the chances are, it wouldn't be anything worth the time and trouble. I hate having to buy new devices and such though. I never know what it is I'm really looking for.
DeleteThe Mad Italian 191
ReplyDeleteIt has seemed that the population of the world could do with home grown husks to protect and preserve them from the virus. Now I see that the virus finds its own way, variants and all, just as they have done during the countless years they have appeared. Governments issue instructions but it seems the initial instinct is always to shut everyone and everything down. It makes sense but it is damaging to the minds of the population, shut away from family and friends, from sunshine and soft winds. I can but hope you will not endure this much longer.
Many are feeling the way the Italian does about shut-down. The concept of growing a husk, or maybe a rind like a banana, would be an interesting form of protection. It would likely present its own set of problems, though.
DeleteNice to see a more compassionate side to the Mad Italian, although I never did doubt he had one. "Sunshine and soft winds." He is obviously also quite the poet.
DeletePublic Enemy
ReplyDeleteThe husk of a man cowered in a recessed doorway of a computer repair shop. He was once vital, teeming with self-confidence, free of negative issues that now served as sheer dead weight.
When the sidewalk cleared, he made a dash for the bank. The teller recognized him as who he once was.
“Hello, Charlie. What can I help you with?”
“Charlie doesn’t live here anymore,” he said. “But, initially, you can put the money in this sack.”
In hindsight, he shouldn’t have shot her. But his new accommodations were perfect for a husk of a man.
oh my, how matter of fact he wishes he hadn't shot her...
DeleteSimply to be a husk of one's former self is nightmare enough to contemplate, without putting murder into the mix.
DeleteCharlie has some serious problems, John, which you vividly portray. Well done!
DeleteThis came with an enticing dose of mystery, John. As in, who got shot for one thing? I'm wondering if you are contemplating a continuation of this one, but I somehow think you're probably going to leave us hanging.
Delete