As were all of this week’s entries, and because, from those offered by Terrie, Jim and Dave I could not pick one as having more merit than the rest I’m declaring every one of you a winner.
Thank you for
your contributions, your comments and
especially to Terrie for having indicated a favourite from the week
before.
Words for the coming week: cushion flex wince
Entries by midnight Thursday April 13th, new words Friday
14th
Congrats to Terrie and Dave on their fine entries!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Delete[Threshold 433]
ReplyDeleteI’d learnt to not rely solely on reading Raven’s face. As the final phrase rang out I saw his fingers flex. Form fists. Had I ever been on the receiving end of any punch, I’d’ve winced at the sight, but he’d never outright hit me. Made sure his occasional gripping of my arms, my shoulders, had been cushioned by whatever garments I wore.
What I had not anticipated was that he’d turn sideways, seize the man immediately to his left and slam him to the floor. The ragged tailing off of choral voices said they as surprised as I.
Someone needs to put Raven in his place! He's getting much too cocky!
DeleteGAIN WITHOUT PAIN
ReplyDeleteI watched Rudy wince with pain.
“Why lift,” I asked, “if doing so causes such agony?”
Rudy dropped the dumbbells to the floor and flexed his biceps. “No pain, no gain,” he replied, reaching achingly for a towel. “Look at your arms. I want mine to be massive rocks like yours, not these soft cushions I have now.”
I smiled. “Keep at it, Rudy. You’ll get there eventually.” I flexed my biceps, which were hardening and expanding on schedule.
That night at home, I injected each bicep with an illegal but highly effective muscle-growth steroid. “No pain… plenty of gain.”
The voice in this is enviably perfect.
DeleteI agree with Sandra and I enjoyed the clever use of the prompt words too.
DeleteChange of focus [511]
ReplyDeletePettinger, Philly, Ben Brickwood and even Aleks held their collective breath as the station’s glass doors silently slid together and Vanessa, outside, walked the half dozen steps to the zebra crossing, crossed the road without a backward glance, the ramrod stiffness of her spine signalling recovered dignity, her more generously-cushioned bum the years passed since she and Pettinger last shared a bed; an observation which added a wince of pity to his belatedly twitching conscience.
Philly moved to stand beside him.
‘We all have mistakes in our past.’
Pettinger attempted not to picture hers. Failed.
What a powerful first paragraph, Sandra... 'generously-cushioned bum' is a marvelous choice of words!
DeleteThank you Jim - your kind words always cheer me.
DeleteEnjoyed the image of Vanessa leaving . Pettinger may feel the situation is under control but I have my doubts .
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 224
ReplyDeleteThe ‘Dillos winced against the cruel tone of Moloch’s voice, then answered his blustering threats with a united roar of defiance that boomed in the low vaulted dome of tunnel and set the rats scrabbling furiously against each other, and the dirt, in an effort to escape .
Sarg flexed her claws and with a swipe severed his tail. ‘Looks like ol’ mangy-fur can see the future then,’ she said spitting lizard-blood.
Moloch shrieked and charged, carelessly .
Cushioned and supported by her back, pushing hard against the tunnel wall, Sarg reared and claw-scraped across his belly.
Moloch screeched again.
Good to have Sarg leading the way, setting a exam,ple
DeleteShould have known better than to mess with Sarg.
ReplyDeleteCarefully settling onto the filthy, paper-thin cushion, the prisoner winced imperceptibly. Can't be showing any weakness in front of the damned screws, no Sir Mary! The guard looked like he wanted to laugh out loud, but this particular prisoner would have taken offense at that, and the guard, while not the brightest bulb in the garden, still knew not to mess with him. Peculiar habits aside, the man was due for release soon, and would be quite capable of making his life miserable once outside. Hell, he could make a guard disappear without breaking a serious sweat. Nasty bugger, anyway.
ReplyDeleteYou have written this so tightly it brings a cell to mind, Dave; guard and prisoner's opposing thoughts bouncing off the walls.
ReplyDeleteHard to take sides with this one, as both men are so well presented, Dave.
ReplyDeleteYou have expertly created the tension and sense of menace between these two men. Like this a lot Dave .
ReplyDeleteTHIS WAY OUT..
ReplyDeleteThe lights work, that’s something, not that anyone would see a flicker of light in the underground vault. Not that there was any money left and if they did… yes? What would they do?
It’s what we’re going to do that matters. I used to dream of money fountains, coins erupting all over the place, printed notes fluttering everywhere… then truth is, the dream is unreal, so you have to go for it yourself. Freedom has not been included.
The ticking of the clock is unreal, our dreams are unreal. Who’d have thought they’d leave us last ones in here…