Which, I’m fairly sure is the title of a song, but nothing on Google rings any bells, and no further clues (unless I accept cookies) so I’ll maybe have to spend time searching the tapes made for me by my youngest son some years ago.
Another week with no need to declare a ‘winner’, since both of you are stars, just to thank you for your participation. As ever I wonder about my choice of words, recognising the need for something which ignites a spark of inspiration, but does nothing to stifle direction.
Words for the coming week: fillet gnome yelp
Entries by midnight Thursday
February 8th, new words Friday February
9th
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. Feel free to post links to
your stories on Facebook or whichever.
I believe you might be thinking of "Yesterday's Gone," which is part of the Fleetwood Mac "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" lyrics. Anyway...maybe or maybe not. Just thought I'd throw it out there. Still can't post any tales, by the way. :(
ReplyDeleteFresh From The Goblin Market
ReplyDelete'You want me to fillet that fish?' asked the gnarly faced gnome who manned the seafood stall. I nodded, hoping some magical gift might be bestowed upon me once I’d consumed it.
When he stuck his knife in its scaly belly it let out a startled yelp.
I took a step back. 'It's still alive?'
He took it by the tail and held it aloft, writhing and wriggling. 'This here is old King Cod himself.'
'Woe is me,' bemoaned the salty monarch. 'Destined to be battered and served with chips. Now isn't that a dainty dish?'
My appetite dwindled rapidly.
Great imagery in this .. 'gnarly faced gnome' 'salty monarch'. A little bit of fantasy served up with a delicately flavoured side -order of humorous nastiness .
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 259.
ReplyDeleteCatching some snatched breaths, Sarg faced the smaller ‘Dillo. ‘You’re one of Stinky-Soft-paws cubs, what’s yer name soldier?’
The larger ‘Dillo snorted softly as button-nose glared fiercely at him.
‘Name’s Agnomena. Mum likes t’ dish out fancy names. It’s a snout-full, so call me Aggie.’
‘Well, Aggie, don’t want this hole any bigger. Me an’ “Chubby-Butt” won’t get through without a deal of yelpin’ and filletin’ off a shitload o’ scales.
If yuh kin stand the stench, gotta scout out the other side. It’s a crap-crazy job but you’re the only one ‘ere t’ see it gets done proper.’
HOME COOKING
ReplyDeleteRandy awoke groggily, his head pounding as though some tiny wicked gnome was attacking his skull with a jackhammer. He yelped, a sharp painful screech that drew a response from nearby.
“Darling, calm down. Think how you’d feel without the knock-out drugs I administer. Be grateful for them and the immobilizing drug.
“This wouldn’t be necessary, Dear, had you not lost your job then gambled away our savings.”
Randy sinkingly realized his wife was right.
“But a body has to eat, right, Randy? And at least you’re keeping me fed. Tonight I made a nice fillet of your left thigh.”
Oh dear, things are not looking good for poor Randy. The prompt words fitted in well to this cannibalistic slice of marital discord. I definitely wont be replying to any dinner invitation to this house.
ReplyDeleteI've just had a text from Sandra sending apologies for the lack of new words this week. She has no internet at present .
ReplyDelete