Not that I can blame any of that for failing to prepare
an on-time scheduling of words, and since I’m unsure many spotted my guilty and
belated comment I’ll offer again memory, organise and heart for prompt
words this week, with a deadline of 7th September.
What each of you did with child, scatter and waterproofs was terrifying in many ways; Terrie’s
in particular because of the contrast of the poetry with which she told her
tale. David’s strongly-voiced complaint about a malfunctioning child rang too true to life
to rest easy in my mind, as also did Jim’s understanding of the ways a
child misinterprets adult actions.
So I’m declaring a three-way winner this week and thank
you for the snatched entertainment.
Usual
rules: 100 words maximum 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.
AGAIN AND AGAIN
ReplyDeleteAgain, he watched himself awaken, sluggishly aware of a dark memory rising from a silent pit of senselessness toward a patch of muddy light.
Again, his eyes futilely tried to organize a myriad of strange thoughts while his vision adapted to the murky darkness, until the muddy patch focused into a gauzy splash swimming with dust motes.
Again, his heart drummed loudly when he discovered himself supine upon a bed, head on a pillow, arms at his sides, legs stretched slightly akimbo beneath the bedcovers. Nothing terribly abnormal; he felt quite comfortable.
Except that, again, he couldn’t move nor speak.
Interest piqued, I definitely want to know more about what's going on with this fellow. I enjoyed the repetition of 'again' it really adds to the feeling of - he has done this before .The prompt words fitted in perfectly too.
DeleteYes, indeed, this sparks memories, suggestions, of larger novels, and I'd like to hear his thoughts.
DeleteA scientific hobby
ReplyDeleteThe female heart, they say, is more fickle than the male. Had I a better memory I’d not be disappointed each time that turned out to be the case. I methodically recorded each and every attempt, but at twenty hearts, none of which appeared notable, the difficulty of finding an Ursula or Unity, halted progress.
Then I met Victor.
With more than hitherto reluctance – I waited months rather than weeks, I followed the usual path and within hours of his death, dissected him, and found nothing. denoting a difference.
Then I recalled he’d never actually exhibited any signs of fickleness.
Suitably creepy, most enjoyable and likewise, I am wondering how poor Victor met his demise.
DeleteAnd just how did Victor leave this world? Something suspicious here, Sandra. Very nice!
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 236
Behind the landslide of rock filled soil, Sarg, heart pounding, held her breath and, more from memory than sight, struggled through the murk, following a trailing vine snaking through the silty water.
A reassuring tug under her paw told her she was safe and with an explosive whoosh of air she surfaced into a small burrow and came snout to snout with the grinning face of the organiser of the escape trap.
‘Everyone safe?’ she coughed and spat mud.
Helping her crawl from the water he nodded, ‘Out yuh come Sarg let’s get this side collapsed good and proper too.’
Phew! (Not that I doubted you. Terrie) Ans smooth use of prompts too.
Delete