So … yes I’ve a shiny new laptop, but it’s stuffed with suggestions of how to do more new shiny things, when all I want to do is return to the comfortable, familiar old. PLUS memory sticks, external hard drive and the like are either buzzing uselessly or take me back to January 2020 and Threshold and Pettinger AWOL, however one silver lining as but being forced to do a one-off stretched my writing muscles more than required for a serial, enjoyably so; telling me I need to do that more often.
So, I thank you for your patience, and for the shiny
posts this week, and declare Terrie the week’s winner for the
unsettlingness of ‘Juice extraction’.
Words for next week: bristle heavy welcome
Entries by midnight Thursday 24th August,
New words scheduled Friday 25th (but no winner, so feel free to nominate your favourite)
Usual
rules: 100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all
of the 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 Facebook or
whichever social media you prefer.
This Is the Story Of My Life
ReplyDelete"Welcome," said the man behind the counter. His chin heavy with bristles, his jumper full of holes. He seemed as fusty as his little bookshop.
"What's your story?" he asked, as the rain lashed against the grime caked windows. "I am a purveyor of stories."
I had only come in to get away from the deluge. No intention of buying. To pass the time I told him about my life. And everything I said flew out of me like a fluttering of pages until, finally, I sat on his shelf, bound in my festering flesh, waiting to be chosen.
Oh, lovely! (having come here from seeing an FB post of a room full of gorgeous bookshelves, this was perfect - thank you David.)
Delete'flew out of me like a fluttering of pages'... what a great turn of words, David.
Deleteflutteriing of pages, gorgeous - I went to the Ryde bookshop yesterday and sent the old old guy on a trip into the high ranking areas to find 'Jane Eyre' (no idea why, just want to indulge in pefect English for a while, I guess. It fits with the futterin pages and the china angels are looking for a home, no room on rhe booksheves, no space on the walls. - perfection
DeleteI agree with all the above David . brilliant little offering - my favorite this week.
DeleteThanks for choosing my offering from last week, Sandra.
ReplyDeleteit was sooooo good!
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 235
ReplyDeleteA thunderous roar made the rats step back but Moloch held his ground as a whirlpool of water sucked the surrounding walls into the trench filling it with dirt and heavy rock.
Sarg was gone.
The rats cheered.
Base Burrow had fallen.
Moloch bristled, smirking with satisfaction, as he strutted back through the throng of rats. He nodded to the pair of thorny lizards waiting for him, ‘you two find the best burrow and clean it good, we must make our revered leaders welcome when they come to call. This place is ours now lads, so make yourselves at home.’
I, like Sandra, believe (and hope) that Sarge will emerge unscathed.
DeleteAntonia - the oddest hero in the oddest of off beat different world fiction and a constant delight.
DeleteI've everything crossed Sarg will emerge fit and fighting mad.
ReplyDeleteScene from ‘Mercy for a Friday child'
ReplyDeleteLuke timed his question for when the motorway was straight and traffic not dangerously heavy. Baz’s driving had been placid, his conscience evidently pure and bright as polished silver.
Not that Luke needed Baz to put his answer into words. He could read the angling of the multitude of stubbled creases on his face well enough to interpret guilt. And had reached the point where, whatever the answer, he'd welcome the simple truth.
‘Have you thought how you’ll explain to your wife you’ve fathered a child on mine?’
Antonia - oh, dark brooding questions being asked here!
Deleteminimalistic and to the point Sandra I envy how easily you seem to achieve this.
DeleteA WARNING
ReplyDeleteI am everywhere,
All oceans and all seas,
All mountains, woods and deserts,
Cannot hide themselves from me.
I can be calm and soothing,
And bring peace to all around.
But I, too, can seethe and bristle,
And cause havoc on the ground.
I can be gladly welcomed,
Or be met with great distain,
I can be soft and gentle,
Or power clouds heavy with rain.
I am the wind,
A friend or foe you cannot see.
And I give to you this warning,
You’d best not mess with me.
Superb use of the prompts and beautifully-written, Jim.
DeleteAnother standout offering Jim .
DeleteOh Jim, full on 100% enjoyment in a sneaky sorft of 'gotcha' mode whch I love.
ReplyDeleteAntonia - comes on board the good ship Prediction, armfulls of chuna angels already on board, whch mde the others bristle but the angels were heavy and I welcomed a chance to set them down . Qh what now for the delicate creatures of the prediction team? What will they bring us? And what will we have to run to avoid?
ReplyDeleteI really like the phrase 'the angels were heavy and I welcomed the chance to set them down '
ReplyDeleteQuite the original piece, Antonia. Well done!
ReplyDeleteWhat Terrie says
ReplyDelete