And the Prediction challenge goes on into a fresh new year, with thanks to Antonia, Jim and Terrie who put in an appearance on 2022’s final fling.
Words for the coming week: button extract mire
Entries by midnight Thursday January 12th, new words and winners Friday 23th January
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 whchever.
The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 206
ReplyDeleteSarg’s black-button eyes narrowed as she flattened herself into the scrape. ‘Cover me an’ stay outta sight. They need slowin’ down, so everyone kin get into the new tunnel.
Let me do the talking. Let ‘em think I’m alone. I’ll extract wot information I can outta ‘em an’ steer ‘em towards yer pit. That should thin ‘em out.
Take yer lead from me. Watch me tail. When it hits that floor-mark get ready to give em a fight they won’t forget.
Remember, you’re S.A.S. This is wot yu’ train fer. Drown the feckers in the mire of their own blood.’
SO good to rejoin the 'dillos in their adventures again, and brilliant use of the prompt words.
DeleteSounds like Sarge has another good plan.
DeleteAntonia here - great section of story, Sarg is such a devious thinking dillo it's all but guaranteed the plans will work out precisely as they should..
DeleteTHE SOLUTION
ReplyDeleteMired irreconcilably in abject misery, Randy Dobson sat shoulders slumped on the edge of the bed and stared at the Magnum .357. He had finally admitted to himself that the solution he planned was the only one that could put his wretched life permanently to rest.
He looked at his wife Anna, sleeping beside him. Memories illuminated his mind. He extracted a pleasant one - the poem he wrote about Anna: 'High cheekbones and button nose, tongue as long as a fire hose.'
He smiled at that memory and said, “Just do it.”
He put the gun to Anna’s forehead.
Poet like that for a husband, it could be claimed a happy release!
DeleteAntonia here - there are precise buttioned up 'heroes' who seem to extract the greatest pleasure from the most terrible of acts, like this, never gave the poor woman a chance...but on the other hand, what did she do to bring him to that point...and should we even ask...
DeleteChange of focus [498]
ReplyDeletePettinger, addressing the pathologist, ‘The CSI extract anything other than the body?’
‘They’re examining the mire I washed off the body; took several bucketfuls from the immediate area, even though river flow made it unlikely they’d find much relevant. They did identify where he’d probably been slid in – tyre tracks and a recently discarded button, likely torn off something they were wearing –‘
‘– Or Goren was –‘
‘Aye. No idea where the butchery was carried out, and they’re continuing to look for the missing limbs.’
‘Would be useful to find where he was living. I’ll get an image circulated.’
Goodness! Sounds like this deceased bloke was roughed up pretty good. A good read, Sandra!
DeleteAntonia here:
Deletewondering how somone ciuld so casually thunk ofdissextion as ordinarhy butcher... we'e all used to it, I feel sorry for any newbies who get... ivolved in our grim images...very nice portrayed, Sandra!
[Threshold 420]
ReplyDeleteI took Indigo-eyes through the basics: ignition key; throttle, brake; the information each dial gave us. Pointing to the compass, (he clearly mired in confusion, I extracted a notebook and pencil and handed it to him.
‘Picture in your head the road we’ll take. Draw a map to where we’re going; each bend and junction, the compass will confirm you’re heading in the right direction.’
What I failed to anticipate was his hair (he’d no helmet) would fly back and tangle itself around the buttons of my jacket. Nor, on stopping, his attempts to extricate it resulting in undressing.
That hair could certainly present a problem. I loved the meticulous instructions in the second paragraph.
DeleteAntonia here - hair is a perpetual problem, we grow it, we cut it, we pull it out - good job we don't all wrap it around buttons, though, the resulting escapades could be VERY nasty... It's a good image fo a story, though!!!
DeleteMilitary Application
ReplyDeleteSimpkins pressed the green button and the combustion engine clattered noisily to life. Deftly he manipulated the mechanical arm and, through a series of juddering motions, proficiently extracted the donkey from the mire. It heehawed and kicked out with its back legs once it was deposited on terra firma.
“These machines could be sent out to retrieve the wounded from bomb craters,” proposed Simpkins.
The general’s moustache twitched in irritation. He had no time for such humanitarian notions.
“Balderdash,” he barked. “Replace that grabber with a pile hammer and let’s crush the bloody Hun.”
A rather callous reaction by the general, but this is, after all, war!
DeleteAntonia here - with some partkicularly naty soldiers and officers, by the sound of it! Wow, that's one good story.
Deletehttps://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/arachne10-longevity-in-fiction-time-bestowed-time-stolen-tickets-478221382027
ReplyDelete'Proficiently' a good word, and perfectly describes the telling of this sharp-pointed tale.
ReplyDeleteAntonia here - I've past the sight of a tied up raft full of dead rats, tails adrift in the mire whilst I hastily button a thick mask over my dace. The super duper 'stixk-by-itself' mask can go do just that, I'm not doing that errand despite the need for coverup. If there are more stinky rats to be found, I'n oiut of here... if the men'll let me, of coure. I am not happy over the noise from the main office.let alone lab aniimals over-celebrating their release. Rescue. Extractkon. Escape. Whoever did that s a dead man.
ReplyDeleteNot sure what you've got yourself into here, but sounds like you'll need a long soak in a scented bath when you're done.
Delete