Friday, 15 April 2022

'Negotiating with the dead'

 is the title of a book on writing written by Margaret Atwood, and was the first 'How to' I read, given to me as a Christmas present by my elder son. Over the years (ten or more) he given me several others; all have been gladly received, not least for the recognition that I can never  claim to have finished learning how to write. That I also have the opportunity to do so each week on Prediction is part of the pleasure of participating, as each entry is capable of showing something worthy of note.

John's ' Some like it in the raw' an obvious example, of course, and this week's clear winner.

Words for the coming week (courtesy of my younger son): eagle question trepan

 Entries by midnight Thursday  21st April  new words posted Friday  22nd April

 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

34 comments:

  1. Congratulations John your entry was a perfect choice for the top spot.

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    Replies
    1. Way to go, John! Yet another splendid entry from you last week.

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  2. Rhyme-Time Gazette
    Issue 3

    Denials of involvement, in pie-fiasco results in Mafia mouse boss, Hickory-Dickory, and three blind associates relocating to secret clock-hideaway.

    In surprise revelation, snivelling whinger, Georgie-Porgie, incriminates cousin, Jack Horner.

    Horner denies narcotics charges, commenting angrily, ‘Porgie is a liar. The stuff in question is arrowroot powder - makes it easier to put in my thumb and pull out a plum.’

    Update - After ferocious name-calling Porgie and Horner are spotted by eagle-eyed reporter, Peter Piper, in fisticuffs spat outside local police station.

    Breaking news - Dr Forster, travelling to Gloucester, discovered today with bloated corpse and bloodied trepanning tool.

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    1. Simply marvelous, Terrie! So many of our favorite characters given new life in your entry!

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    2. Both clever and delightful, Terrie.

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    3. Love the descriptions of all the familiar characters. :) A fun story!

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    4. real attention grabbing storytelling!

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  3. THE WORM IX: BEGINNING OF THE END

    The question “WHAT?” trembled on Gork’s tongue as he tried to flee.
    He was too slow.
    A slimy, fibrous appendage rose from the hole to seize Gork’s left wrist. He screamed at the sick crack of breaking bone that accompanied the bolt of pain burning through his brain. By then he was sliding, pulled by the loathsome coil around his shattered arm. The thing in the hole squirmed eagerly toward him, its churning mouth surrounded by wriggling tentacles sporting claws thick as eagle talons… claws intent on trepanning him into bloody pulp.
    Gork’s tortured shriek raced unheard through the woods.

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    1. Horrifically depicted nightmare, Jim, NOT to be read before bed.

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    2. Definitely a horrible scene I'm unlikely to forget. You've created a truly terrifying creature!

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    3. oh my, how do you sleep at night?

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  4. If You Love Somebody Let Them Drill

    Lots were drawn. No one questioned the wisdom of Albert, all knowing, all seeing, guru of the vast and infinite universe. One group went diligently off to have their heads shaved whilst their partners collected hand drills from Viv, who was both Albert’s missus his high priestess.
    According to Albert trepanning would release one’s inner eagle, and was therefore, cheap at £500 a pop. Soon Albert and Viv were dunking digestives in their tea as drill bits bored into skull bone.
    No eagles materialised, but there was a lot of screeching.
    Albert told them they should take this as proof.

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    1. I will not be vacationing anywhere near Albert and Viv! Quite the macabre scene, David.

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    2. Conjunction of dunked digestives and flakes of skull bone especially unsettling, David.

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    3. Oof, definitely unsettling imagining Albert and Viv calmly drinking their tea. Your title choice is perfect!

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    4. tea would never be the same again... full of gore, David, and most of it in our heads!!

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  5. Change of focus [468]

    Whenever asked, the oft-times slow to assimilate information desk sergeant claimed the coin-sized circular depressions on his skull were evidence of the brain surgery he'd undergone in his teens. Inevitably, rumour spread that the eagle-eyed surgeon had, as usual, begun with a pre-op trepanning then stopped. In answer to his anaesthetist's question as to why, he'd declared the job better suited to the skills of a pot-holer than a brain surgeon: 'There's nowt but limestone and empty space!'
    Apocryphal perhaps but too near the truth to forget. Especially when watching his attempts to process Philly Stepcart's teasing; Aleks' true relationship.

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    1. I'd hate to have that experience with a surgeon working on my brain! Couldn't help but laugh at the line 'There's nowt but limestone and empty space!'

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    2. This desk sergeant might have chosen the wrong profession, not to mention the surgeon.

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  6. By Curse or Fire [13]

    A massive eagle swoops past, its ear-piercing cry blocking out Aries’ question as it snatches a ribeye. Aries’ dragon launches after it – tail nearly knocking his master off the cliff – but Aries just laughs and tosses more meat on the grill.

    “What did you say?” I ask, rubbing my ear.

    “I’m wondering what you plan to do. If it were me, I’d feed them to Nithe.”

    Nithe blasts a stream of fire, but the eagle gets away. “Might be a cleaner end. Rach is likely to get out a trepan, and Vera…well, her curses can be quite nasty.”

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    1. Loved the veracity of this conversation.

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    2. Rach and Vera - gals to avoid.

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    3. agree with Sandra re: dialogue, beautifully structured.

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  7. Eyes tight shut [Threshold 392]

    As ever, it took time to recover from the eagle-flight of orgasm; my coming to, on this occasion, hastened by a nervous question. In a voice I didn't know.
    'These the two for trepanning?'
    Nor did I recognise the second.
    'For you to practice on, yeah. Start with the female. With luck you'll manage to extract half a dozen samples before she croaks it. By which time you'll know what you're doing and he'll survive. You've got the manual?'
    'It's out-of-date –'
    'No doubt as rusty as the drill bits –'
    I could only hope Raven was awake and listening

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    1. Ooo that does not sound like a situation I'd want to find myself in. Hopefully they get away! Also loved the phrase 'eagle-flight of orgasm.' :)

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    2. yes, yes, eagle-flight of orgasm! whole new imagery and conjured with such a few words!

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  8. 'eagle-flight of orgasm'... what a great phrase!

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  9. Interpretation
    ‘Trepan’ she muttered as she walked in haste but keeping her breathing even. Josiah didn’t approve of rushing. She wondered whether she dare question his odd stance on this and decided it wasn’t. ‘Trepan’ she repeated as she walked into the hardware store. Eagle’s request was more an order really, to be obeyed to the very last tick of the machine, or the cooling down of the cooker, the sounds we took for granted, like the power he had over us.
    ‘Tre-pan’ she said again, ‘three pans for three people. I had better be right…’

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    1. You sly devil, Antonia! Incredible last line!

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    2. A very clever use of this week's word! Very curious if she's correct in her remembering. :)

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  10. The Mad Italian
    He flies, we stay earthbound. That is, unless we consume something that sends us all flying, but should we indulge while our world burns? While beautiful buildings are missile struck and demolished, as our brains would be if someone decides to practice trepanning on hapless victims or foolish people who do not question. Photographs speak to me of substances to send them flying but again I ask myself, in a world being bombed out of existence, does it matter? The eagle pauses over the destroyed and then takes off for places unknown. Fortunate bird…

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  11. It would be a strange, somber thing to view the destruction from above. I'm left with imagining the eagle's flight.

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