is something many
of this group excels in; Terrie’s ‘a long scream, sharply falling into clipped
silence’ a prime example , though as the prompts were from the week before they
can’t count for this week. Instead I
have to choose between David’s channelling of the Eagles and Jim’s
chilly, snow-bound struggle to a self-chosen suicide and eventually, by the fragility
of a snowflake, choose Jim, with gratitude to all of you for participation
and comments.
Words for the coming week: clover food, yelp
Entries by midnight Thursday 29th, new words and
winners Friday 30th
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.
The scene was so peaceful. Several fat grazing cows, as alike as peas in a pot, with their mooing comrades. Munching clover and rye grass, occasionally puking up a wad of food to happily chew again, the very picture of contentment. Which is why the poor lone coyote couldn't understand why they got so angry when he tried to join the herd, and specifically the youngest calf. Without warning, he was driven into the ground by flashing hooves, his pitiful yelps drowned out by the thudding of cow feet. Then, wet chewing sounds. Too bad he was still alive.
ReplyDeletePity.
now that's a sad sad one if ever there was. It's carryring a depth of emotion we rarely see. Nice one, Dave, reallyh well done.
DeleteNature as we'd like it, then very much in the raw - hard-hitting contrast here, Dave.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 230
ReplyDeleteAtlas shifted his hammer, ‘Maybe it’s one of Tosca lot doing all that yelping and caterwaulin?’
‘Nah mate they’ll be miles away by now.’
‘Well, those varmints aint far behind, whatever they’re up to’
Nigel nodded, ‘an’ I’ll bet, me tool-belt fer a clover-bedded, food-filled, burrow, those sounds come from their camp.’
Everyone nodded.
Mossy voice dropped into a whisper, ‘want us t’ scout out their camp an’ do a bit o’ earwiggin’?’
Nigel’s eyes narrowed, ‘was hoping t’ do that a bit further along but yer right, it needs t’ be done,’ He paused, ‘’ere’s what we’re gonna do.’
How to write well... Atlas shifted his hammer. Your mind will instantly to the action yiu would visualise, and so we end up with differernt images. This s what I was tryhing to tell a newbie juat yesterday.... Tough going, You're one of the masters of excellent writing, Terrie!
DeleteWhat Antonia very usefully says, and also for 'clover-bedded. Good stuff as ever Terrie.
DeleteEnd of an Era
ReplyDeleteI heard a strangulated yelp. Marianna was in the clover fields hunting for food.
Since the human population thinned to the edge of extinction clover had aggressively colonised everything round these parts. I hoped she'd snared a dog. I’d developed quite an appetite for canine flesh marinated in smashed nettles.
When I heard voices I ran and hid. A group of travellers appeared. They had Marianna's limp corpse strung on a pole. One of them sharpened his butcher's knife. I crawled quietly through the clover, not knowing to where I might flee.
You've evoked the crippling sense of failure with this one David,
Deleteoh oh, sadness all the way ow how do I compete with this one?
ReplyDelete[Threshold 441]
ReplyDeleteAs a child, seeking the lucky magic of a four-leafed clover, I’d learnt to relax and trust my eyes to do their work. Learnt also to muffle any yelp of success so as to prevent the less observant seizing my trophy rather than rely on their own skills to find one for themselves.
The face I’d spotted, mouth expressing the twisted revulsion of chewing food impregnated with the sap of bitter aloes, was familiar. Was female.
I began to search my memory for the name, but a glance at Raven told me he’d got there sooner. Which much pleased him.
Change of focus [519]
ReplyDeletePettinger addressed DC Ruth Rawlinson. ‘Well done, but we need to find out where these two villains came from –‘
She grimaced. ‘Spotting a non-logo black hoodie will be like looking for –‘
'A four-leafed clover, I know. Were they on the same train as Goren Dubnovaski or did they drive and park somewhere? Lie in wait? Go somewhere for food? I know I don’t need to tell you to follow the CCTV back in all directions.’
Three hours of sighs and grunted frustration ended with Ruth’s yelp of satisfaction. ‘Got them, boss! ’