Vacancy for a deputy administrator
I mentioned the idea a few months ago but didn't
foresee being victim of a sudden stroke, and although recovering well I will at
some time need to go in for further procedures. so a volunteer will be needed so
as to avoid a gap in words and winners. I was grateful for Julia's input and
her choice of tender system overwhelm
words for the coming week: needle prescribe thermometer
Entries by midnight Thursday 21st
October, new words
posted Friday22nd
A hastier than usual perusal has me declare
Perry's 'Must be autumn this
week's winner, but thank you all for contributing in these unusual
circumstances.
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.
The Mojave is beautiful this time of year
ReplyDeleteThe fuel needle pointed toward empty. The car’s thermometer blared at 101 degrees. We hadn’t seen signs of civilization for hours. My antipsychotic prescription medication was gone. Our cell phones had no service. The car started to sputter.
My wife knew better, but she couldn’t help herself. “I’m so frigging glad we took the scenic route through the desert. So frigging glad.”
That night, I watched as a buzzard plucked her left eyeball. Her death had been quick, the tire iron still protruding from her chest.
Coyotes howled. The moon appeared from behind the clouds. She’d goddamn won again.
Urk! Now where did she keep the map?
DeleteVividly atmospheric.
DeleteYou'd think this wife would know not to badmouth her hubby after he used the last of his medication. Great climax, John!
DeleteDeliciously crafted descriptions, John. Gore in the Gobi. Very nice...!!!
DeleteDesperate times call for desperate measures, eh, John? A hell of a climax!
ReplyDeletethis is chilingly cold!
DeleteFAMILY DOCTOR
ReplyDeleteA sharp pain suddenly pierced the darkness, and I shockingly realized that I lay beneath a sheet. The possibility of being imprisoned in a covert alien facility flashed through my mind as I spotted a figure standing in a doorway bathed in soft light. Everything else was dark, making the scene surreal.
For some reason I thought of the new medication my doctor had prescribed and the peculiar-tasting thermometer she had shoved into my mouth.
Suddenly my wife, who was also my doctor, hovered over me.
“So long, Sweetheart,” she whispered gruffly, as she plunged a needle into my arm.
Chilling -love the alien abduction reference ... and yet find myself wondering whay the thermometer tasted odd.
DeleteHaving had a week of thermometer-type instruments shoved in my ear, I can guess why it tasted funny. Nicely-incorporated prompts Jim.
DeleteI'm pretty sure I know the source of the tainted thermometer. Nicely done, Jim. You do disgruntled couples well.
Deletewhat's been going on in your worlds, I wonder... that the entries are concerned with wives who should have known better, not to mentiom a husband who should a anticipated that needle...
DeleteNow there's a sticky end, if you like. Very atmospheric and intensely mysterious.
DeleteCONSTRUCTIVE
ReplyDelete‘Horror doesn’t absolutely have to be murder and gore,’ the editor needled.
The author raised an eyebrow from across the desk. ‘Really? What do you prescribe?’
The editor sat back, gesticulating with inverted claws. ‘Dunno – something with more oomph!’
The desk thermometer suggested a mild day. The author’s inner one disagreed.
‘Ooomph?’ she queried, pushing the thing to one side. It was a tacky pseudo-Irish souvenir – a Leprechaun on a well.
‘Something not boring.’
The author blinked the red haze away … then gawped at the editor.
His eyes bulged as surrealistically from their sockets as the Leprechaun from his mouth.
Judging by the editor's appearance, one would think he would find murder and gore to be up his alley. But then, claws and bulging eyes can be deceiving.
DeleteCongrats on last week's win, Perry! As for this week... another home run. That editor should get to know his authors better.
DeleteLOL - thanks, John - but not real claws you know - it's that double hand gesture the luvvies use for emphasis.
DeleteCheers jd.
congrats, Perry... and a by-the-way here, we did a clearance job a week or so back. On e of the 'goodies' was a Leprechaun sitting on a well. I like the overral feeling of this strange pairing.
DeleteBeware of all such editors, that's what I say.
DeleteClarification [Threshold 366]
ReplyDelete'Pregnant? I sincerely hope not!'
'You didn't want–?'
'Did you ever catch me fiddling with thermometers before we fucked? Aiming for optimum moment of conception? I've no wish to be pregnant. I want to move on. Continue our shared adventure.'
A shrug.' Your temper now as needle-pricking as when we met. You were pregnant then –'
'And kidnapped and fearing for my life, my then captors having prescribed you my assassin.'
'Not so. They hoped I'd tame you. That hasn't happened yet.'
'Do you want me tamed?
'On their terms? No. On mine … life would be less challenging.'
Dialogue crafted so naturally in a compelling serial the prompts are eclipsed by skill.
DeleteA shared adventure... a perfect description of their goings on. I don't think either one will ever be tamed.
Deletedo you want me tamed ... there's a question to ponder, busy imagining the outcome if anyone tried...
DeleteAlways the challenging exchanges between these two. And always so inspirational in creation. We find out more with every installment and yet...still no name...!!!
DeletePlace Your Bets Please
ReplyDeleteThe midday temperature crept toward 100 Fahrenheit on the thermometer. Ragged people milled around the mud banks by Cleopatra’s Needle. Lathered in prescription sunblock they plundered debris from the sluggish stream that once was the mighty Thames. From the air conditioned rooftop casino of the Savoy the elite watched and placed their bets. The croupier tossed the ball to the spinning roulette. “Fourteen Red,” she said when the wheel clattered to a stop. An armoured drone dropped down from the hazy sky and took out the scavenger designated that number. “Iced drinks on me,” declared winner, gathering his chips.
Excellent concept perfectly executed - no pun intended.
DeleteInspired and compellingly entertaining.
DeleteThis makes one even more concerned about global warming. Nice, David.
DeleteI like this. People have scavenged from the Thames since it upgraded itself to a river, I can almost visualise this scenario.
DeleteA beautifully crafted apocalyptic tale. I know the area very well. Perfect setting.
DeleteIngenious, David! Great use of the prompts.
ReplyDeletevhange of focus [444 ]n
ReplyDeleteUnlike Hollywood , John Pettinger's deep-grooved sense of duty sent him downstairs to open his front door without considering the prescribed dress code for DI's disturbed in flagrante with a local reporter. Nor did he need a thermometer to gauge the heat of condemnation rising in the eyes of his superior. Nor fail to note doubt as the effect of the morning chill on his lack of Y-fronts diluted green-needled envy as Philly Stepcart made her duvet-wrapped appearance beside him.
'You didn't answer your phone!'
'I was … busy.'
'And inconsiderate.' But not so much he was offered indefinite leave.
A little peek is always advisable before opening the door. A pleasant read, Sandra.
DeleteYour writing rolls along like a powerful wave across the sea, Sandra. This is a great read!
DeleteI've always loved the phrase "in flagrante," used to perfection in this instance...as is the reference to Pettinger's "morning chill on his lack of Y-front." I believe the vintage comment here would be...saucy...!!!
DeleteThank you all for encouraging comments.
DeleteIt's the flow of the words carrying us onward into this story which make it stand out.
ReplyDeletejoys of mediumship
ReplyDeleteIf the shop had as thermometer it would show how cold it has been, needles of ice coming from spirit and from having the door partly open. Family prescribe more cardigans but do I want to look like a homeless person wearing layers and layers? Not really. It’s enough of a job to walk as it is, one ankle is showing its arthritic age.
Publisher and I share the same goals, money to live on without worrying (! – I have 2 people trying to live off 1 pension and what else comes in… but spirit are aware and are working.
I'm sure they will come through for you, Antonia, but wishing you all the luck anyway.
DeleteIt's too bad spirits can't do anything about arthritic joints. If they could, they'd be a lot more popular.
DeleteStop The Week -
ReplyDeleteDeadly, deadly slow, time to edit (two stories this morning!) Shaun is isolating, he takes his daughter to Southampton tomorrow for a heart operation (she’s 16) IF they have a bed for her. If she goes, they will be taking her temperature and getting needles ready, and prescribing something to prevent the mini attacks before they become major. So, together with the lack of customers… A bit draggy. Not even the Leprechaun was able to do magic. The other window needs sorting, I want to put different shelving in there but need a man with muscles.
I do hope that Shaun's daughter makes a speedy recovery.
DeleteBest of luck for Shaun's daughe, and hop the icicles melt to magic up some help and some customers.
DeleteHere's hoping good things happen at Southampton tomorrow.
DeleteThe Mad Italian
ReplyDeleteIt seems astonishing that in your time politicians can still be hated so much they are assassinated. The man of the people, who never appeared to have upset anyone, who no doubt had a prescription for all constituents, is stabbed with needle-like precision to kill. Senseless. But then, think of JFK and Lincoln and … so many others. It is sad but there are senseless killings all the time on your news screens, none of which have common sense at the root of the decision to take a life, or even two lives. I do despair.
Feelings and emotions tend to run very high when it comes to both politics and religion. Two subjects I strive to never discuss if I want to remain on friendly terms.
DeleteNot too many stabbings in the last few hundred years when it comes to assassination's. Whenever I try to spell assassination, I'm reminded it starts with two asses.
DeleteHUNT
ReplyDeleteAs the last murmurs of her family faded amid the growls and snaps of unstable rubble which Sally painstakingly negotiated, she froze - balancing on a concrete needle of devastated pillar.
Truth be told, she was more unnerved than expected at her own train of thought as to the connection between Una and The Tide.
She checked the gadget Finbar had cobbled together for her way back when she first began her reconnoitering: compass, barometer, and thermometer combination. The latter seemed off.
Maybe she needed Mary to prescribe–?
A bundle of fury slammed into her back, ripping at her flesh.
That's quite a gadget Finbar came up with. This bundle of fury should prove interesting. Nicely done.
DeleteOne hell of a place to leave it, Perry. Talk about a cliff-hanger not to mention a nail-biter. Great job. Loved the "growls and snaps of unstable rubble."
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeletefor me it was the bundle of fury - that covers a multitude of things and always brings vivid imagery with it.
ReplyDelete