On Saturday, we’re taking a flight from Teesside
International Airport (five minutes up the road from us) and flying to Newquay in Cornwall for a few days. Weight
restrictions, plus the disappearance of the power lead for my Chromebook means
I’ll not be taking a laptop so here are prompt words for next week: craft
extricate faint
and for the week
after (Friday 23rd): footstep shave wax
I’m not sure whether this past week’s absence of
contributions was due to lack of time, inspiration or connectivity, but suggest,
for continuity’s sake, next week you name your favourite post from these. Normal
service should resume soon after the 24th
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.
Change of focus [485]
ReplyDeleteThe eyes of Philly’s brother London not so much goldfinch as starling; their glitter of greenish gold evident and doubtless used to intimidate, since he clearly considered himself adept at the craft, seemingly unaware his sister’s husband-to-be began deciphering the lies behind the stories the guilty told when attempting to extricate themselves from accusation at least two decades before he was born.
Calmly, amusement faint and mildly patronising, Pettinger assured him, ‘But yes, I trust that Philly would keep her word. And have no evidence she has not.
‘Then what has she done with your son?’
I loved the description of London's eyes. He's definitely trying to cause trouble!
DeleteThe Ghost Hunter’s Ghost
ReplyDeleteEach time he heard the footsteps in the night he would wake to find a trail of candle wax in the hall. He’d shave, wonder why his whiskers never seemed to grow from one day to the next. Make himself a coffee, ponder the conundrum of why there was no flavour or heat on his tongue. After using a butter knife to wedge the hard white drips from the floorboards he would diligently reset his equipment. Despite the physical evidence nothing ever appeared on the CCTV footage. But ghosts existed and one day soon there would be proof positive.
Intriguing and thought-provoking, David; much to ponder on.
DeleteOoo love the spooky atmosphere of this. I wonder if he'll ever encounter another ghost hunter and what he'd do then!
DeleteI lost touch with the Prediction... couldn't get to it no matter what I tried.
ReplyDeleteI wonder why the site is being so finnicky.
DeleteOr...if you're talking instead about not knowing what to write, some of the words are definitely tricky!
This is good stuff, David... such a marvelous use of language here.
ReplyDeleteAntonia here -sorry about last week, I wasn't fit for anything... especially closing the shop at the same time as losing the Queen....may not seem right to you but it did to me...give me another short break, busy trying to sort my desk out, push the monitor over a bit out of immediate range, whilst thinking Rats...
ReplyDeleteAntonia - how did you manage to get so many twists into one episode???? clever stuff, this.
DeleteAntonia -
DeleteSandra, have a great time!!
Antonia - here goes with the instalment for Thursday 15th and will go work on the instalment for the 23rd -
ReplyDeleteNot Always Such a Good Idea
“Feeling faint, Eric!” Said around coughs. “Can’t extricate myself, lump of human resting on me… Eric, Eri…”
“Coming! Leave off with the big words; you got plenty of time to craft a vessel to get out of here!”
“No, not really, not… Eric, going faint, warn the others ..”
Rat three stomped into the room, aggression and fear fighting for his limited face space. Somehow they had to get out - something had gone horribly wrong in – wherever they had been kept. And that something did not bode well for the future.
Seems as though dire times lay ahead, Antonia. I loved the phrase 'limited face space.'
DeleteSuperb evocation of claustrophobia here, Antonia.
DeleteI agree with Sandra, definitely getting some chills about being unable to get out!
DeleteA VIRTUOSO
ReplyDeleteMy craft is killing, and I am damn good at it. I’m not talking about animals – I am not a hunter. Well, I am in a sense, although I hunt humans. My first kill was a boyhood friend whom I pushed off his bike. He banged his head on a big rock and that was it.
I extricated myself from this awkward situation by saying his foot slipped off his bike and he fell. I cried a lot and even semi-fainted.
I still remember the warm wave of soaring satisfaction that swept through me then.
Just as it does today.
Antonia - this one works on all levels, the offhand show off 'what I did and how brilliant I am' is well drawn. Then the killer line...nice one!!
Delete100% evil rife in this; such self-satisfaction!
DeleteVery chilling. I hate to imagine how many 'successful hunts' they've had.
Deletesorry not posted for a bit it's still been really busy here but i have managed to sort out my pension options and written my resignation for work .... however, karma is a b***h cos wouldn't you know it, after over two years, all the jabs and lockdown, some little a**h***e there has breathed covid on me. am ok tho- just a bit miffed!
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 202
Puddles gathered in scattered paw-scrapes on the floor and the echo of muted footsteps flew against dirt as the group scuttered along tunnels where burrows and walls shone with a damp, waxy, sheen.
It’s the blind corner next lads,’ Sarg’s voice was a whisper, ‘fall in with the others; let’s hold the feckers up as long as we can.’
At the corner a sentry stood, on hind-paws, shaving off stringy roots hanging from the dripping ceiling. Another crouched, intently crisscrossing the fibres over a large hole in the floor.
The group grinned, shrewdly side-stepping the hole as they hurried past.
Oh no! I'm glad you're doing okay.
DeleteLoved the 'puddles gathered in scattered paw-scrapes.'
Good to hear from you Terrie, and that retirement is getting closer, though sorry about the Covid. As ever, I enjoyed catching up with the 'dillos and agree with Holly re the 'puddles gathered in scattered paw-scrapes.'
DeleteMissed the first set of words (there's been a lot going on here so forgive my sporadic appearances!) so wrote something for the second!
ReplyDeleteCatch a Falling Star [30]
Thankfully my landing appears prepared, my graceful roll – all muscle memory – bringing me up beside Merigold. She beams, unsurprised, as though I wasn’t a hair away from shaving my face on the floor.
I hear footsteps and spin, but instead of slicing with my dagger, I place my hand in the outstretched palm of the masked actor behind me. I flush bright red; we’re dancing now. Oh gods, am I in the show?
My eyes dart from the actor’s waxed hair — shaped into a bird — to the balcony. Felicia’s laughing. “Rach!” I mouth. “Save me!”
And another delightful catch-up - thank you Holly - so well-described.
DeleteAntonia Woodville
ReplyDeleteLet Me Out Of Here
Rat 4 watched the other rats with a look of utter despair. The other rats were falling down all over the place, Eric having left the doors open. He always acted as if the floor was waxed and the coming and the going of the rest of them was a slightly louder footstep, his claws made a special message of their own.
Get me out of here.
Eric had gone silent. Lop Ears got close to the specially hacked off bit and decided he had managed to avoid a close shave with a virus. And wondered where that word had come from.
Antonia Woodville
DeleteAll yours… plans to do so much today dissolved in the horror migraine which decided to grow larger like a gathering storm in the middle of Tescos… still not coping with being home all day!!
Such vividly-described activity, Antonia. Hope migraine faded fast.
Delete