Last week's inclusion of 'anemone' was inspired by the postcard I was using as a bookmark, depicting Margaret Mellis' 1957 painting 'Dead anemones https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/dead-anemones-166972 You did her proud, each entry gently steering the reader to a pit of particular horror. So proud I really, really struggled to rate one above the rest. When the time came to choose it could have been any one of you, but Perry's nigh-literal stomach-turning 'Perspective' won the day.
A word of thanks also for your very welcome comments on my pieces - as ever the need to match quality with quality ups my efforts.
From Sunday, for a week I shall be away from home, and very possibly in places where internet is intermittent – and so I ask each of you to name your favourite entry of the week on Friday. New prompt words have been scheduled to appear on the 16th.
Words for the coming week: cherry
magnet worse
Entries by midnight Thursday 15th
July new words posted Friday
16th
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.
Congrats, Perry! You certainly deserved last week's top prize!
ReplyDeleteYes, well done Perry, a brilliantly written entry for last week.
DeleteThank you. I'm well-chuffed.
Deletegood one, Perry!
DeletePost negotiation [Threshold 357]
ReplyDeleteAt his age – five years more than Raven? – Cock-tail had learnt Life rarely offered endless bowls of cherries.
It could be worse. Raven, for the most part, was no savage. He didn't kill for love of killing. Provided Cock-tail fulfilled his part of whatever bargain they'd negotiated – my thoughts veered to food, bathroom and bed – we'd likely stay a bit, draw up the terms whereby he kept outwardly-visible autonomy of whatever his fiefdom.
Peaceful co-existence depended on the quality of Cocktail's women, because if Raven chose to exert his sexual magnetism I might be the one to draw first blood.
Aha, trouble ahead. Another intriguing episode.
DeleteChange of focus [434]
ReplyDeleteAeons of black engine grease glistened in what half-light penetrated a shed built to accommodate a half-dozen double-decker buses. Took a torch to show what looked like dark-ripe cherries on the surface were gouts of blow-thrown blood. Or worse, because whatever had been within Annie Moan's skull had been expelled.
Appalled, Pettinger looked into the pit, 'Unspeakable.'
Beside him, Henry Moth tilted his head backwards, indicating the jovial murmur of camera-ready journalists. Bitterly, 'But they'll speak of it, won't they? Know headlines of a death of such as Annie act as magnet for the moralisers. Sell a sight more papers.'
'gouts of blow-thrown blood'... Yikes! Then the image of Annie's skull! Good stuff, Sandra!
Deletethe dialogue speaks volumes about these characters. Great instalment.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 155
ReplyDeleteTwangs, whistling, thudding, and high-pitched squeals rent the air; then pangolin war-cries sailed, eerily, across the sky.
Terrified gerbils skittered wildly through the undergrowth. All were beaten senseless and twitching. The rats behind them fell like cherry blossom and were slain.
Tosca emerged from the bushes. His spiky camouflage trailing with blood, and worse, stank more than usual.
Whooping crazily, Pangolins and Varks danced among the dead and injured as Armi and Callow’s forces felled the confused enemy.
Remaining rats fled in panic.
Magnetic eyes glittering with malice, the weasel brothers watched the fighting with indifference before silently slinking away.
Ooooh them darn weasels. Can't be trusting their backing.
DeleteI love your choice of verbs in this, Terrie, and you have my vote for this week's top prize.
Deleteoh vivid depictions here!
DeleteWhen Johnny Comes Marching Home Again
ReplyDeleteMy boy came home. Stepped in out of the mist. It’s been forty years. I vividly remember the last day I saw him. We’d gone to Magnet and Southerns to look for a new kitchen. The Ballad of Cherry Flavour was playing over the tannoy. We look around and he was gone. Taken for the night army.
I’ve stayed in this house long after his mother passed. Hoping for this day.
He’s changed for the worse. No soul in his eyes. I fear what he might do if unsupervised. He’s an infant killing machine. Yet I love him.
An ominous parallel beautifully written.
DeleteAh... the love of a father for his son. Poignant and frightening.
Deleteso much horror wrapped up in a few lines.
DeleteThis is my choice for this week.
DeletePERIL
ReplyDeleteAs she sought to set off with a series of short sprints, Joanie realized her exhaustion and subsequent period of inactivity had left her in worse condition than anticipated. She could only manage a lopsided hobble.
Crying quietly from pain and frustration, she fought for breath and defied the cramp as she limped furiously back the way she had come, intermittently cursing own reckless hubris.
She dodged behind a mound of rubble.
Una was a whirling magnet to The Tide’s iron filings – THIS side of the sonic barrier.
Obliquely, Joanie noticed a single cherry fruit on the foundling’s holly sprig.
this is going to be a tough week for choosing, such good character studies coming through.
DeleteLady’s Man
ReplyDeleteThe chick magnet rumbled at the corner in his cherry red Tauris wearing his favorite corduroy suit. He revved the engine and a series of clicks and squeals prompted him to let off the gas. A toddler walking with her nanny looked up and shook her head.
The worst part of being a chick magnet, he thought, was all the envy he encountered. Give her a few years. She’d come around.
At the next corner, a cheap hooker in a hot pink micro-dress winked. Sometimes, he wondered how much one man could possibly be blessed with.
Funny - though an inner eyebrow raised at the concept of future toddler.
DeleteI think this fellow overestimates his appeal. Quite novel, John.
Deletewriting the truth, I feel, for many men that thought would be there. Trust me on this, one, my first husband went to jail for 10 years for paedophile offences.
DeleteTHE ENCOUNTER NEARS
ReplyDeleteHer name is Anna – no weird, exotic sobriquet for her. She performed three nights a week, and for several nights I watched her from the shadows. Predictably, she was a magnet for obscenities loosed by the Swizzle Stick’s lascivious louts.
I am not one of them, for they are worse than human waste. My clothes are clean, I am well-groomed, and I drink old fashioneds with cocktail cherries, not the rot-gut hooch consumed by this filthy rabble.
Tonight Anna smiled at me and furtively sent a signal.
I know she did.
I went outside and waited.
Before long, she appeared
oh yes, such a good character depiction!
DeleteThe menace of narcissism.
ReplyDeleteWith apologies to those hereafter to which I will not be able to read due to commitments today and after a tormented bout of indecision - i choose this delicious hypocrisy by the character as my fav.
Delete(Antonia here - at the shop, failed monitor at home...)
ReplyDeleteThe joys of mediumship
Imagine standing close but not touching a man in distress who is talking of his wife’s passing and of seeing him cheerful the next time he came in… his remembering a small pelvic exercise to relieve backache and his face when he said ‘it was you, wasn’t it?’ It works like a magnet, people are drawn to healers (there are a lot of us) who bring the greatest gift imaginable to patients. The cherry is: We can often stop the condition getting worse. Healers are the unsung heroes of spiritual work and need to be known.
Stop the Week… No 8
ReplyDeleteA slow dreary week, hardly any sales, no cherries to pick, no magnets on the door to pull people in and now, to make things worse, the total chaos over the policy on the use of masks. I really did want to see them go! It’s depressing everyone, it has to be; we have a lovely perfect condition Paddington Bear unsold after several days of stardom in the window!
I am grateful for the shop computer, the home one has a dead monitor right now. The replacement will be collected after work and plugged in with a sigh of relief.
The Mad Italian 210
ReplyDeleteIt would seem the laws on masks have thrown the country into confusion and yes, whilst the Prime Minister has cherry picked the items he wants to focus on; he has allowed this one to descend into serious chaos regarding public transport, shops and any gatherings. You are of course heading for a third spike, it was ever there to be considered, but for once I say the people should be confident enough to make their own decisions. They will, when the concept of ‘freedom to choose’ enters their minds. Give them time…