But good to see that initial slow, slow of the start come to life with highly entertaining (and what passes for a full house of posts these days), quick, quicking into double figures – thank you one and all.
Words for next week: hatch toss uncertain
Entries by midnight Thursday 11th July 4th July, new words scheduled Friday 12th
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.
Thresholds new [27]
ReplyDeleteI assumed, from the indivisibility of their appearance, both had been hatched by the same pair of parents. Similarly obvious, for all Raven claimed them cousins, there could be no uncertainty his genetic inheritance – the nigh-on jet black of his skin when theirs was alabaster, the bulk of him, when they slender enough for a moderate gust to toss them into the air as wind-blown chaff, an entirely other.
Hesitant, fearing to give unwitting offence, I asked, ‘Are you, as well as I, descended from Egesa?’
Then immediately apologised on seeing the goodwill in their expressions fade.
ReplyDeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 278
Armi managed a wry grin, ‘It wouldn’t be the first occasion in these uncertain times yuh dragged my ass t’ safety tossed over yer shoulder.
Whatever happens, we gotta get back t’ Nigel and hatch a plan t’ sort these weasel scum out once and fer all.
That twisted, white, hag and her brood don’t give a toss about anythin’; only what they want. They sure aint trustworthy. I’m bettin’ they’d turn on each other given ‘alf a chance.’
Atlas nodded. ‘Reckon yer right mate. Let’s see if that flashy stone idea of yours works before we get movin’ again.’
forgot to sign in ... again
DeleteGuessed it was you though, Terrie!, yet another 'Dillo slice of adventure.
Delete“Down the Hatch” - FF # 5
ReplyDeleteNeither praying nor fireworks had helped Sheriff Wilkins’ frame of mind. The uncertainty of what might be coming ate at him. Was Martha, dead Caleb and the livestock deaths to become a dark rabbit hole or just a convergence of unrelated events?
“Wilky?”
A hand rested on his shoulder and made him jump. Wilkins turned.
Neighbor Jerry stood holding a tray holding a jug and two tumblers containing what looked suspiciously like moonshine.
“Thought you might like to toss back a couple shots of my best ‘shine.”
Jerry handed Wilky a glass and raised his own glass.
“Down the hatch.”
https://lostinthebozone.blogspot.com/2024/07/down-hatch-ff-5.html
Aha!- never saw that one coming MR - nicely done,
ReplyDeleteWar is no Laughing Matter
ReplyDeleteUncertain what awaited me beneath the gaudily coloured canvass I tossed a fun grenade into the hatch. There came a soft boom, the hush of gas being expelled, followed by bursts of hysterical laughter. I tapped my red nose, setting it to heat seeking mode, and spread a thick precautionary layer of toxic custard onto my paper combat plate. Down I went, honking my horn as a warning, landing on sawdust. After a moment a door festooned with streamers flew open. Out they came in a seemingly endless procession, pink hair and greasepaint, proffering a slapstick surrender.
Nightmare, vividly evoked , and scary that you are able to do it so convincingly
ReplyDelete