A five-minute, golden leaved, blue sky walk, ten second wait and entirely painless.
Thank you for last week's entertaining contributions. Words for this week : gentle, trumpet spout
Entries by midnight Thursday 10th October, new words Friday 11th.
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.
The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 292
ReplyDeleteSarg flopped on the floor of the small burrow, ‘let’s have yer report on the diggin, then.’
‘Soil’s gone from dry and crumbly, t’ damp an claggy but we’re on track, Sarg. Should hit the Palace diggings day after t’morra if tunnelin’ is up t’ speed, an’ we don’t tunnel into any trickles or spouts of water along the way. It’s gonna stretch the forces a might thin tho.’
Sarg’s reply was flat, ‘I know, let me sleep on it’
The digger nodded. He’d only retreated three paces when the gentle suck and trumpet of Sarg’s snoring sounded behind him.
"suck and trumpet" perfect description!
DeleteThresholds new [39]
ReplyDeleteI could think of no easy way to divert attention from our suspicions as to the wholesomeness of their offering. Better to signify our palates were fragile from the effects of a hitherto lack of sustenance – mouths sore, throats dry as that of a Saharan fire-eater. Then my throat spasmed and, with a trumpeting roar, worthy of a lusty bull elephant, what of the not-quite-milk I’d swallowed spouted forth negating the image of gentle-born I’d hoped to present. Smirking, Acker said, ‘did it not occur to you that we intended you to provide our dinner?’
ooh ominous... are they expected to provide some sort of food...or... be the food themselves .....
DeleteTHE TASK AT HAND
ReplyDeleteTrumpeter swans were on the lake,
Swimming gently near the shore.
Their necks were curved like teapot spouts,
They were too lovely to ignore.
Yet I couldn’t long admire them,
For I had a task to do.
So I rowed quickly out into the lake,
Well past the courtly swans’ view.
Now far from shore and the swans,
I set about the task at hand.
Weighed down with rocks, I dumped you in,
Then headed back toward land.
This made me smile . Brilliant imagery, clever rhyming, and a caustic and barbed ending to boot .
ReplyDeleteOh you devil, Jim, lulled me with swans and poetry then mugged me with a bag of rocks - when will I ever learn?
Delete