Except not literally, but for so perfectly encapsulating the implied necessity of skin-crawling in her 'A Thing Of Shreds And Patches' (delicious title in itself!) Patricia sits atop the podium this week, but thank you all for a similarly fitting and entertaining set of tales this week. (With one of my writing sites bidding farewell this week, and another spelling out the date for its demise should activity not pick up, I am more grateful than ever for the regularity with which you visit, bearing gifts.)
Words for the coming week: calculate muscle still
Entries by midnight Thursday 1st July new words posted Friday 2nd
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
Well done, Patricia. That hammer blow of a final sentence sealed it.
ReplyDeleteCongrats, Patricia, on your superb entry!
DeleteCongrats, Patricia, this is why I no longer write fiction, it doesn't stand up to your example!
DeleteGO
ReplyDeleteJoanie’s view of the rodent drama was blocked by those crumbling edifices which still stood above eye level, so it was difficult to calculate when she might make a dash for safety without being discovered, especially with muscles cramped from a period of forced inactivity following her exertions to get out of the hole.
The chilling air didn’t help either. All she could do was try to rub warmth into her limbs as she waited for an opportunity to re-join the group.
She’d even welcome a sight of Sally’s face about now.
The eerie high-pitched shriek was her starting pistol.
And I'm cheering Joanie on - brilliant final line!
DeleteThat was a killer final line and seamless insertion of the prompts as well. So nicely done.
DeleteGood luck, Joanie, but I fear the odds are against you. Very interesting, Perry!
ReplyDeletesometimes having the odds against you pushes you on, here's shouting for Joanne!
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 151
ReplyDeleteAubrey, Cinereus and Nigel calculated a rough flight-path for the rocks and pangolin-pilots then the three groups set out on their individual missions.
The armadillos were to attack head on, Armi and the Varks from the left, Callow and the remaining pangolins the right.
Fully organised, they waited.
Hidden in thick underbrush, the armadillos had clear sight of the enemy encampment: The stench of weasel burned in their snouts and rat-stink wafted on the breeze.
Stop fidgeting, Dolas,’ hissed Nigel.
‘ Sorry sir, leg muscle’s got a twitch.'
‘Well, un-twitch it an’ keep still soldier. It’s about t’get messy.’
So enjoyable, I read it three times - vividly created scene.
DeleteI echo Sandra. An enjoyable read rife with tension.
DeleteIt finally dawned what this delightful campaign reminded me of - the retaking of Toad Hall in Wind in the Willows.
DeleteYes, Perry! As I read it, I was looking for the image, definitely the retaking of Toad Hall. But somehow a little deeper and darker.
DeleteHave to admit, I missed the prompt words altogether. This was so engaging. I sympathize totally with poor Dolas. I too frequently get hit with twitchy leg muscles.
DeleteA New World in the Morning
ReplyDeleteEarly morning. Perfectly still. The silvery lake reflecting a vast blue sky. Tall conifers verdant on the horizon. He stood on shoreline like an abomination in Eden, synthetic muscle hung over a colossal titanium skeleton, organs that endlessly regenerated. He was over thousand years old, the intricate calculations that had delivered him across the light years an unfathomable conundrum.
A batch of DNA was already incubating. He’d nurture them to adulthood before the next phase commenced. A thousand more years stretched before him. Civilizations would blossom.The pinnacle of human endeavor. He was the father. Hallowed was his name.
This is good stuff, David! Such a creative piece, and so well presented.
DeleteIt's a proper filmic week so far, and this one both towers and chills.
DeleteOh this could come straight out of one of Ben Bova's - very visual and captivating.
Deleteit's the intense visuals that make this leap out at the reader - dramatic stuff, Definitely Ben Bova material.
DeleteThis was absolutely magnificent. The choice of words, the scenario, the implications. All sheer perfection AND in less than 100 words.
DeleteChange of focus [432]
ReplyDeleteQuick as a flash, muscle spasming fingers to fist, John Pettinger attempted to calculate, from the direction the voice had come from, who it was claiming to've slept with Philly. And had found her … not unimpressive, at the very least. Failing, he continued with his briefing. 'We have How, and Who, and sufficient forensic evidence, but I'd be happier still if we knew Why. What prompted the message scrawled on Toni Forsyth's back? Was Nickels acting from his own sense of grievance, or on someone else's behalf?
'And if so, who? We need to ask.'
He'd insist on Philly.
The phrase 'muscle spasming fingers to fist' pulled me into this very entertaining entry!
Deletefingers here, hands there... what are you doing to my cosy dreams??
DeleteMethinks that Pettinger's imagination is working overtime on this one. As always, an impressive continuation that swallows the prompts as though they didn't exist.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 152
ReplyDeleteThe owner of the Rat-Trap-Inn never travelled far and Sarg knew it must have taken many days and huge effort for him to reach Base-Burrow. ‘Denzil,’ she coaxed gently.
A small muscle on the dormouse’s cheek twitched, ‘Sarg, need to warn you…’
‘Hush, it kin wait ‘til we get you underground, Denzil.’
She turned to the ‘Dillo sentry, ‘double the guards along the rat-bottom-gully trail and stay alert,’ She warned.
Picking Denzil up, she held him gently between her teeth, where he hung weak and still as a newborn pup.
Ever the strategist, she calculated the enemy was closing in.
Double episodes both a treat and an up-twist to the tension.
DeleteIt's the background which carries this as well as thew dillos, the Rat-Trap Inn.. a delight
DeleteWhat a sympathy evoking episode. Reminded me of Pheidippides and the story of the original Marathon runner. Loved how carefully Sarg carried Denzil between her teeth. I do hope he'll be okay.
DeleteON THE BEACH
ReplyDeleteI was alone, watching a pair of seagulls struggle against an icy, biting wind. Behind them, rain-heavy clouds gathered like mourners above a troubled ocean the color of cold steel. White-capped waves raced crazily about, dipping and swirling in a wild roller-coaster ride toward shore.
Assessing all this, I calculated that this was not a good day to be on the beach.
Movement… my eyes fixed upon a buckling spot some ten feet away. A muscle below my eye twitched then grew still.
I froze as a huge bloodied hand squirmed free from the sand and crawled slowly toward me.
Gorgeous language in the opening sentence, and terror in the image at the end. Good stuff Jim.
Delete"gathered like mourners" great visual - and at the horror moment my mind nervously shifted to Max Bygraves singing "You need Hands"
Deleteoh o h, sounds like an unwelcome visitor... and a grim image to dwell on. thanks... (LOL)!
DeleteNow if that ain't the stuff of nightmares, then I don't know what is. Ye gods, this came with some truly frightful visuals, but so nicely done.
DeleteA brief, intended-reassuring history [Threshold 355]
ReplyDeleteRaven's shift, followed by a stillness prickling with anticipation, alerted Cock-tail's suspicion.
I'd no knowledge as to how Raven was perceived by his peers; what elements of his history, the variety of his exploits, his successes and his failures combined to colour their expectation. Met in person, the size and colour, hardness of his musculature and anthracite eyes couldn't help but confirm if he threatened he'd undoubtedly succeed.
I attempted to calculate the rankings of such of his enemies as Helvinsson, O'Bedrun, Law-man, Torc-man and Lant. Cock-tail seemed the smallest threat of all.
Which did not necessarily lessen the danger.
'stillness prickling with anticipation'... 'anthracite eyes'... great use of language, Sandra!
DeleteYep. Loved the "anthracite eyes" - great combo of blackness and potential fire.
Deletejust think how many younger ones wouldn't understand 'anthracite eyes' which is perfect, BTW.
DeleteAnd another great last line...
This simply overflowed with outstanding visual presentations. I think we're about to find out more of this Cock-tail, which could prove most enlightening.
DeleteTHE DEAD HEROES INITIATIVE
ReplyDelete“So what’s with the laughter, Leonardo?” the Arts Council’s necromancer asked re his only surviving sculpture – The Virgin with The Laughing Child.
Da Vinci’s sigh came from his boots.
“Difficult as it a-was to get Lisa to sit still as a bee-a-utiful model, espec-i-ally when I needed to calculate the-a curvature of the bellisimo muscles, the bambino? He was impossible to shut up.”
This was an inspired use of the prompt words. And what better compliment can be given than Antonia verifying you totally captured the voice and attitude of our dear Leonardo.
DeleteEspecially loved the sandwiching of 'Da Vinci’s sigh came from his boots'.
ReplyDeleteme too and I can hear the grumpy old Italian even as I read it.
DeletePièce De Résistance
ReplyDeleteAmber-flecked eyes failed to reflect the tormented spirit which lurked within. He paced to-and-fro, back-and-forth. Never still. A restless figure of restrained force and bridled energy.
He crept low along the narrow tunnel and assumed his customary position upon the assigned pedestal, awaiting the Master's command, as a whip spewed sawdust puffs into the stagnant air.
His leap was calculated with muscular grace...but not toward the proffered hoop of flames.
Beneath the tiger's massive jaws, the human flesh punctured with unexpected ease. He relished the warm blood coursing over his tongue, staining his whiskers, and found the crunch of bone extraordinarily satisfying.
Beautifully-depicted tiger!
DeleteReading this, I became the tiger! Masterfully done, Patricia!
DeleteHumans! They're Grrreattt!
Deleteoh Wow! what a depiction of a tiger!
DeleteLoved your observation, Perry.
DeleteReminded me somewhat of: "For thou art crunchy and taste good with ketchup." Though I doubt Tony the Tiger would have thought of that.
The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 153
ReplyDeleteWith the scent of Brenda still on his scales, Atlas left Pink-Fairy and the Whoremadillohouse diggers calculating the depth and direction for the new tunnels.
He and his team headed at a run to archive-burrows.
They reached the main entrance after midnight but set to work digging as soon as they had eaten.
Atlas was tired and his muscles ached but he still had part of the mission to fulfil, He must find Nigel and deliver new orders to Tosca.
Confident everything was going according to plan; he took a deep breath and disappeared back out into the night.
oh my, you should never be confident all will go to plan... roll on the next instalment, Terrie!
DeleteYes, indeed, 'Uh oh' the only possible reaction here ... but what it is that goes wrong I've no idea.
DeleteThree installments in one week? I hang my head in mortification that I couldn't even come up with ONE continuation. I think I'll go eat worms....
DeleteThe Joys of Mediumship no 61
ReplyDeletePart 61
20+ years ago a medium gave me a silent message. We were hardly moving a muscle as we locked eyes. It was my first visit to the church; his actions were strange but obviously meant something. Today he came to clarify the message. ‘Whatever happens, this is your pathway. You will not walk it alone.” The message was silent for our privacy. The President didn’t like it, tried to move him on but he still held me in a calculated gaze. A week later the President gave me a message, a shower of stars were passing from her to me…
Now this was intriguing and a little more mysterious than your usual weekly offering, Antonia. I'd love to see more like this.
DeleteStop the Week: I Want To Get Off (6)
ReplyDeleteShaun’s bad elbow is a muscle/tendon condition and slowly getting better. I calculate another two weeks and all will be well, although he will still need to be careful. Get some help with furniture, of course. We are still unpainted; his search for another home goes on and fills the working days. I’m changing displays to keep occupied, footfall is well down thanks to ferry delays and cancellations, locals don’t want to risk the traffic gridlock. There is only so much toxic fumes they can breathe in…. more gifts arrived, framed prints, some quite large, frames are good to stock.
"frames are good to stock" - and I've a load (spent five times as much on framing as I ever got back in sales, just as well it was a labour of love. Hope Shaun gets better soon.
DeleteI love digging through frames to find the one that will be a perfect fit for the picture/photo I'm looking to frame. I bet your shop contains several that I'd be unable to resist. Nice to hear that Shaun is gradually getting better.
DeleteThe Mad Italian 208
ReplyDeleteThe newspapers are still full of stories of affairs and who knew what, calculated to increase sales and for parliamentary changes to be made which may well be better for you all. The new appointee uses his smile muscles to good effect, he radiates capability and caring. This is something no politician has displayed with genuine emotion since the pandemic swept through the country. He is a man committed to his work; you can – for once – believe what he says. There is a speck of light in the Covid darkness, it will die back when vaccinations are done.
I think even a "speck of light" is a welcome observation. Things have been almost totally dark for so long. COVID restrictions have now been lifted here in the Pacific Northwest. I do hope we're not jumping the gun.
DeleteOut of time for further contributions this week, but I will return later today with comments.
ReplyDelete