And I regret I’ve no idea how to clear whatever is the sticking point. Knowing it has sorted itself in due course, I’ll persist for a while; if not I can only suggest someone else sets up a new version. Thanks, as always to Terrie and Jim for persistence and thereby providing excellent entertainment.
Entries by midnight Thursday 22nd February, words and winners posted Friday 23rd
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.
The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 261
ReplyDeleteThe caustic stench of decay continued to dribble back through the hole and eroded their sense of smell as they listened to Aggies faint scrabbling on the other side of the tunnel. The sounds faded, then stopped.
The big 'Dillo stiffened, ‘She’s in trouble,’ he muttered.'
‘Nah, she just gone into the level above, or below.’
They waited in silence straining to catch sound of her return.
'Bloody quiet in there isn’t it, Sarg?'
'Yup, hoping it means they haven’t bothered with the Burial-Burrow, or better still think plumbing its depths risks disease and don’t think we’ll use it either.'
So easy to picture the in-the-dark tension of this conversation
DeleteThresholds new [9]
ReplyDeleteWhenever we were naked together, my finger-tips and the skin of my belly, in caressing his, reminded me whatever had been Raven’s nature at birth, his nurturing had only harmed. The cicatrised letters spelling RIP on his belly intended to remind him of the grandfather his grandmother claimed he’d killed. Her caustic words, the heated rod with which she’d made the holes to plant the seeds, the painful petalled scarring must’ve plumbed the depths of his four-year-old humanity, scouring every peck of sensitivity. He’d done well to grow as straight as he had.
A reminder of both the physical and mental scarring that Raven has suffered allows the reader a better insight into his character .
DeleteThe Burden of Automation
ReplyDeleteMy master constructed a fabulous device to satisfy his bloodlust. A steam driven wonder. Miracle of modern plumbing. Pistons, cogs and wheels. Seven spiked syringes. Suction pumps to draw the warm crimson nectar from the arteries of the recently slaughtered cadavers he has me fetch. As a consequence no oral unpleasantness befalls him.
He sleeps well when he his sated. But when the sun rises my work commences. Rods and caustic soda to clean the tubes and pipe. Gloves, goggles and respiratory mask. I sweat and toil till dusk, cursing him and his diabolical machine
I agree with Sandra chillingly and brilliantly described machine and its workings
DeleteYou've described this so vividly, I can see the blueprint drawing.
ReplyDeleteWISH GRANTED
ReplyDeleteRudy sat Buddha-like on a hill overlooking the pond, which emitted a vapor that swirled about as though alive.
And be the directive true, perhaps it was.
Following instructions he received in a dream, Rudy whispered the words that promised to dismiss the pain that had made life a nightmare.
Nothing happened.
He waited. Nothing happened.
He rose and turned away. “I must be plumb loco,” he said caustically.
“Wait,” came an eerie voice from the pond.
Rudy turned to see a narrow rod of fire exit the mist to become impaled in his chest.
“Wish granted,” said the voice.
Cleverly done, and leaves a chilling impact.
ReplyDeleteUsing those short sentences in the middle seems to convey Rudy's impatience really well. ' Nothing happened. He waited. Nothing happened .' but as a reader I just know something will ....and given Jim's skill with those twisty little endings I was not disappointed.
ReplyDeletewhoops forgot to sign in again ..... anonymous is me
ReplyDelete