Friday, 8 March 2024

Poetry effective as a weapon?


I’d like to think so; Jim’s sterling effort well worth making, since a full house was entertainingly achieved  - thank you all. The following, I promise, not inspired by a visit to the dentist.

Words for the coming week: teeth torture transparent

Entries by midnight  Thursday March 14th,  new words Friday March 15th

 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.

4 comments:

  1. The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 263

    Armi nodded and glanced up as the sun blinked in and out behind semi-transparent clouds drifting across the sky ‘I’ll use the stone to see if I can get it to flash in Niges direction, let him know we are on our way,’ he rubbed his under-tail, ‘need some of Cinereus’s salve on me tail too, its burning summat awful.’

    Atlas managed a wry smile, ‘poison sumac’s torture if it gets yuh in the wrong place.’

    Armi’s teeth clicked together softly as he shuddered, ‘from the state o’ them gerbils, torture is summat that weasel takes pleasure in.

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  2. Thresholds new [12]

    More in hope than certainty, nodding to the figures silhouetted against the sky, I asked, ‘Are they real? Not statues?’ Then realised Raven had not only found the hounds, but persuaded them to gather round him, teeth bared more in grinning welcome than anticipation of flesh-shredding torture. Self-congratulation gleamingly transparent, he said, ‘Real or not, they won’t risk shooting their dogs.’
    He held out his hand, ‘Come, let’s go choose some horses.’

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  4. Necessary Means

    Ignoring his vow of transparency, Izod continued his work in secrecy.
    “She still has two teeth left, Charles. I don’t know what you’re blubbering about.”
    “Sir, this is inhumane! A total abuse of power.”
    “Perhaps, but we need to know.” Izod wiped his hands on his apron. “Ask her one more time.”
    “Sir, this is torture. We can’t do this anymore.”
    “Ask her!”
    Charles hung his head. The woman stared straight ahead, defiantly.
    “Ma’am, just tell us where you hid the last Easter Egg.”

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