Friday, 13 September 2024

Friday 13th

Back last night from a holiday staying in places which, for the most part, lacked the space to look at a laptop (and, anyway, places to go, things to do ...) but today (as well as unpacking and washing) requires I post some new prompt words for the coming week, so have a go at crumple, peg and powder. 

Entries by midnight Thursday 19th September, new words  Friday 20th

 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.  ...

7 comments:

  1. The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 289

    Sarg sought out the digger who’d dragged her out of the collapsed and watery tunnel.

    ‘I got a small team of diggers working the opposite end, leadin’ t’ burial burrows.

    Soil’s a bit gnarly and powdery and there’s’ a couple of other snags too. Keep an ear out fer em when I’m not around.

    Left Aggie in charge and told her to send any reports or digging issues your way.’

    ‘Ah, Agnomena, good choice. Knows her stuff, won’t crumple under pressure. I seen her peg up the starts of a cave in, almost single-handed. She’ll get the job done, Sarg.’

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  2. Efficient use of prompt words, Terrie, and another superb episode.

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  3. In Search of the Lost World

    The pegs wouldn't hold in the powdery chalk of the soil. Not long after they'd been hammered in they'd come loose and the tent would crumple in on itself. He looked at the map, still unable to figure out the exact location of the caverns that would lead him to the lost world beyond. The horizon flickered, exposing a glitch in the software.
    'Give me a break,' he said, head craned skyward. 'I've been trapped here for three weeks now.'
    As ever the invisible gods of the simulation remained ominously silent.

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  4. Thresholds new [37] crumple, peg and powder

    ‘”Food?” Oh joy!’
    I couldn’t recall when we last ate, but the twins swift exchange of rueful amusement warned me what they had to offer would not be Cordon Bleu. Back-tracking, ‘Even an instant, powdered meals would be a treat … a drink…’ Avidly I watched Gulch reach into a fine leather bag, tight-pegged to his sturdy belt and pull out a crumpled pack which, unwrapped, revealed strips of roasted meat which he first offered to Raven. Watching him, Acker switched allegiances and handed me a flask containing milk. ‘Fresh this morning,’
    I drank, smiled, ‘Wonderful’

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  5. WEDDING DELAYED

    The powder covering her face could have been applied with a putty knife, and in her crumpled white dress she looked like a bride who had been waiting at the alter for decades.
    I was to be her groom, but I’m a cad, a worthless rapscallion, and she was not the first I had deceived.
    But she pegged me for a mendacious scoundrel right from the start, and unbeknownst to me planned my punishment. She drugged me then chained me in this windowless room.
    Now, every day she appears in the doorway to smile and twirl in her crumpled dress.

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  6. What a scrumptious selection of words in this brilliant little piece, Jim!

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