I’ve read and re-read several times, Jim’s ‘A bad idea, Holly’s ‘Forewarned (31) and Antonia’s ‘More Rats and more rats’ and find myself unable to separate them in terms of winner-deserving status, so it’s a triple crown this week, with thanks to all three of you for participating so entertainingly.
So, words for the coming week: dodge inhibition no-one
Entries by midnight Thursday October 13th new words hopefully posted Friday147th
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 to Holly and Antonia!
ReplyDeleteCongrats to all! :)
DeleteThank you, Sandra!
DeleteA Bullet for a Dodger
ReplyDeleteNo-one can dodge every bullet. No matter how lucky they seem.
Marco had had a decade at the top of his game. He was quick, agile and acrobatic. They called him the cat. Fans loved him.
Till today.
The chemical bullet’s penetration was excruciating. Dissolving rapidly it entered his bloodstream. Stripped of inhibitions he found himself embarrassingly naked, dancing a sailor’s horn pipe. The entire stadium erupted with mocking laughter. This was how careers ended. It was, after all, the purpose of the game. The higher you climbed the harder you fell.
Does sound a bit as if he got more than he deserved.
DeleteThis is quite a fall for Marco. His future doesn't look very bright.
DeleteI think he should be careful where he treads...easy to slip up...
DeleteNo-one saw it coming, least of all Fred. If he had, he could have dodged what came next. But he knew his actions would have seemed unjustified. Better to have waited until she made her move. Of course, that might mean taking it in the shorts, but he had a few aces up his sleeve she didn’t know about. When she finally played her hand, he was nearly caught out. Her “friend” was very large and tattooed. Fred dashed to bathroom with a sick look after catching them. They didn’t know of the .45 caliber pistol he had in there.
ReplyDeleteTightly-told and impactful this, Dave. Can't help but feel sorry for Fred.
DeleteIt appears that Fred should have avoided this "she" altogether. I hope his .45 is loaded.
DeleteAttention diverted [Threshold 408]
ReplyDeleteBut something – maybe false belief in my innocence and a need, perhaps, to master something, when so much had been frustrated – sparked a sudden lust. I read it in his eyes as he reached for me. No-one around and no desire to dodge the inevitable, we shed inhibitions fast as we did our rain-soaked clothes, soon after which it became impossible to differentiate between friction-generated sweat and cloud-deposits. Similarly, the passion-induced thrum of our blood; our throated cries, muffled thunder. Only when we resurfaced from post-coital lassitude did we realise we had an audience.
Such is the power of lust! Some great phrases... friction-generated sweat, thrum of our blood. Well done, Sandra!
Deleteoh what a superb last line!
DeleteChange of focus [486]
ReplyDeletePettinger, having deciphered Philly’s brother London’s would-be hidden hunger, recognised he a lad who’d learnt, from a lifetime of dodging blows, to trust in no-one. He couldn’t help but wonder why Philly hadn’t kept him close, before realising her own life contained degradation enough to likely inhibit her from revealing how low she herself had sunk. Deciding practicality more use to the lad than psychology, recalling the desperation of his “‘You’ve no food in?”’ he led the way to the kitchen. Tea and toast, in sufficient quantity, would fit the bill while they waited for a takeaway.
another goodie, character outline drawn in a few lines - brilliant.
DeleteA DETOUR
ReplyDeleteSuperstition dictated that no-one wander the woods just south of Browningville. And no-one had since Richard Lisella did then disappeared ten years before. But Sunday School teacher Arthur Irwin was late for 10 o’clock mass, and he didn’t want parishioners to think he was dodging his duty.
Discarding inhibitions, Arthur entered the woods believing he could shave 15 minutes off his journey.
The woods soon turned dark and thick, and Arthur felt a worrisome chill creeping into his limbs. About to turn back, he heard young female voices singing and saw a dull glow in the distance.
He continued on.
I wonder whether, being named Arthur, gave him delusions of immortality?
Deletegood thought, Sandra an d a somewhar dangerous detour, Jim...!
DeleteAntonia Woodville
ReplyDeleteKing rat? Or too many movies?
What moved in the dark – what yelped and was told to shut up? What wanted to run… Little rats trying to ignore big rats. Can’t be done. They’re learning … much … too … fast and I keep wondering how they know this stuff in the first place. We’ve not seen any others, only the dead stuff and we dodge them, they’re leaking too much. That rat holding back over there, that rat calling himself King, that incomer when it says our place, our scars, our worries and our rest time after stuffing our faces… the one with inhibitions.. don‘t like him…
I afeared of him, he knows too much. He might know what does the killing and I don’t want that. On the other claw… right this moment … but he’s to nasty, clipped whispers and all. So, someone’s gotta know about that. For sure and all.
I've just finished Hilary Mantel's 'The mirror and the light' - this echoes the dark suspicions of the Tudor court; fear well-merited.
DeleteI loved the pace of this, Antonia... perfect for the speaker.
Delete