Antonia, that is. One of the more disturbing but beautifully written posts this week – all intricate but light in touch as filigree – and it’s also good to see so many comments, which I think is an important element: if only to let us know what we’ve posted has been read. This week, the top spot goes to MRMacrum for his ‘The Secret of God’ – a large tale told in a small number of words.
Words for the coming week: cast ringlet suicide
Entries by midnight Thursday 23rd June, new words posted Friday 24thth
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.
thanks for the kind words! The doctor said the hospital will be in touch very soon, they worry about these when they grow but she said it's small enough to be cut out without problems. More news as it happens...
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear it!
DeleteGood to hear, indeed!
DeleteCongrats, MRMacrum!
ReplyDeleteThank you. I hope to keep participating for the immediate future.
DeleteMany congrats!
DeleteMeet the Host [22]
ReplyDeleteMy feet have barely touched the ceiling before I hear a loud pop. We fall, gravity abruptly restored, but Vera somehow casts a protection bubble. I bounce, rather than splat, my stomach churning.
The goblins are groaning, Erd cradling a broken arm.
“Well,” a honeyed voice says, “you could have joined the party instead of destroying it.” A demon with thick, golden ringlets and spiraling horns is standing across the room, the gold-sheathed nun between us.
Rach, single-minded as always, moves towards Erd, but I grab her wrist. “Don’t be suicidal.”
Akheron beams. “Are you all here for me?”
Lovely cast of characters in this series, and I'm impressed with how well you dealt with the loss of gravity!
DeleteWhat a great opening line. It really sets the scene for the odd happenings. Well done.
Deletefantastic full of blood and gore instalment!
Delete
ReplyDeleteChange of focus [474]
Ben Brickwood was too much focussed on Philly’s confession of having other step-children to hear the approach of the currently be-ringletted DC Henry Moth (he currently cast as Sleeping Beauty in the local AmDram Society pantomime), and while Henry was aware of Ben’s marital problems he did not believe a multiplicity of wrongs would make things any more right. To make a scene within earshot of those who’d blab to Pettinger would be career suicide, so he did the next best thing and appointed himself chaperone. ‘You going for drink? Count me in.’
Multiplicity of wrongs... good one. I do think that someone will end up blabbing to Pettinger. It's just a matter of time.
Deletesometimes long words look strange, out of place, here it looks a natural part of the story.
DeleteOptions [Threshold 398]
ReplyDelete‘”Flesh”? You mean, they’re cannibals?’
Raven’s eyebrows rose; the kinked lines across his forehead resembling elongated ringlets. Reluctantly, ‘Eventually, I guess. It’d make sense, once they’ve finished with them, because the only other option for the victims would be to audition for a part in horror films, one of a cast of monsters. Not that that’d necessarily be worse than the alternative –‘
‘Which is?’
‘Porn, with a side dish of snuff.’
‘That’s when, post sex, they get killed off?’
‘More likely, in this case, the so-called star is already determined to commit super-nova suicide.’
I wonder who the star is? This is a great setup for things to come.
Deletemore, please!
DeleteI’m innocent, I tell you
ReplyDeleteShe has golden ringlets, an appealing, curvy figure and an insatiable hunger for suicide. As Meatloaf might say, two outa three ain’t bad. But it is, really. She’s a cast iron cooking pot, shackled to my leg. Tight, so I can’t get it off. I’ve lost track of how many attempts she’s made.
And then, today she succeeded. At my nephew’s fifth birthday party. Quite a mess. I partially blame myself for putting her on cake carving detail. With a really big knife. Sharp as a razor. But who knew?
Well, John, I really think you should've known! (and I love the use of 'cast')
Deleteanother of your creepy nasty stories, I love them!
DeleteENOUGH IS ENOUGH
ReplyDelete“Randy, did you know that in each movie Shirley Temple starred in as a child, she had exactly 56 ringlets in her hair?”
Randy’s face soured as he cast his eyes toward his wife. “How would I know that and why should I care?” he grumpily replied.
Anna shrugged, smiled. “Who knows,” she happily said. “You might be on a quiz show and that could be one of the questions.”
Randy, his teeth grinding as they frequently did, turned away and thought of the gun in his safe and said to himself. “I’ve got to make this look like suicide.”
Plausible enough, IMHO
ReplyDeleteI like this, same sort of wavelength as me today!
DeleteMore Random Thoughts
ReplyDeleteA writer’s life can seem like a person standing on a beach casting a line into the sea of words and hoping something will come up on the hook. I threw the ringlet back before wondering why it was there and who had lost it … suicide? Off the end of the pier or the downs, lots of space to fall? The local rag would have explained all but I can’t be asked to read it, even on screen. The confused feeling won’t leave; too much waiting to be done, skin tag and all. That’s next Thursday, a long wait.
Standing on a beach always a good place to be optimistic.
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