to cover my absence, for week following Friday 10th May, taken (to avoid mis-influencing) from my pinned-up address list:
blacksmith drew ocean
Usual rules:
100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all three
words 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
The Anvil and the Ocean
ReplyDeleteThere was once a blacksmith who drew an ocean with charcoal from his forge. It took up the entire wall of his smithy. The waves he depicted were so tall and jagged he could hear them crashing in his imagination. The smoke from his bellows took on a salty tang. The sawdust on the floor passed like sand between his toes.
When he was too old to bring his hammer down on his anvil he drew a deep breath and plunged into the depths of his drawing, there to live in dreamtime with the whales and merfolk of his sketches.
Oh that all of us should be blessed with a marvelous gift such as this blacksmith has! Very nice!
DeleteWhat a fantastic situation! Loved this David,
ReplyDeleteDon't you just want to follow the blacksmith into his creation. Spectacular imagery really captures the senses, 'the smoke from his bellows took on a salty tang. The sawdust on the floor passed like sand between his toes. '
ReplyDeleteNo ‘Dillos, just a huge lot of nonsense!
ReplyDeleteBlacksmith, Blacksmith, have you any ice?
The sky has fallen sideways and it’s raining rice.
The ocean’s overflowing with jingly, jangly, jam-jar trees,
Singing rock an’ roll songs, on cellos made of cheese.
Each mountain wears an eyepatch and, brand-new, baby bibs
And sleep all safe and soundly in giant feather cribs.
The land is ruled by twitter-bugs who haven’t got a clue,
They swim inside a cardboard box where sunlight blows straight through.
The folk here live in chimney pots and drink the nightshade gin
They drew from taps and wells and riverbeds with nothing even in.
A very entertaining change of pace, Terrie!
DeleteThe joy with which you wrote this very evident - and some of it transferred to me - thank you!
DeleteI ASKED FOR IT
ReplyDeleteTowering flames eating into the walls made the corridor hotter than a blacksmith’s forge. Drawing breath forced waves of scorched air down my throat as I looked frantically about, hoping for a means of escape.
There was none.
An ocean of despair then flooded over me as my Keeper opened a glowing red door. Beyond it a deep pit greedily writhed with fire. Then, a terrifying certainty burned deeply into my senses: my confinement was permanent, and I would suffer in eternal conflagration.
But, I should have expected nothing else, for a lifetime of sin had sentenced me to Hell.
Remarkably sanguine response to what feels like a fitting end.
DeleteWhat an enjoyable read, Jim. The prompt words slipped seamlessly right in
DeleteThresholds new [21]
ReplyDeleteRaven’s eyebrows drew together; incoming waves of an indigo ocean crossing black laval sand to collide with the shore-struck backrush of a suspicion which teetered while he summoned anger, much as would a blacksmith awaiting the optimum moment to beat to shape whichever fiery implement he was making. Addressing both, eyes moving from one to the other cousin, he asked, ‘You know her name? ’ and belatedly I realise it was I he tested as much as they. He’d asked me many times; I’d always refused. Now he wondered whether, in an act of gross betrayal I’d already told them.
That first sentence of yours is nothing short of marvelous, Sandra!
ReplyDeleteIf more than a little breathtaking! - thank you Jim
DeleteI agree with Jim, a brilliant opening sentence containing all three prompt words. I'm sort of hoping we may find out the ladys name but I'm guessing you'll find an inventive way to keep from telling us .
Delete