Friday, 17 June 2011

Lily's Friday Prediction

Since when did Autumn start in June? It's chilly and raining in old Eastbourne town.

Today I am wrapped in lovely goth black lace, masses of silver on my fingers and hanging from my ears. Lips are as red as velvet rose petals, my black hair is piled on top of my head - ringlets hanging down the sides of my face. I am comfortable in myself. I am ready to enter the darkness - there's horror on the agenda.

But all that's by-the-by. Back to The Prediction and congratulations to Reba Kovar for winning last week's challenge with the mythical, other-worldy A Gift in Appreciation for Your Many Years of Service. I couldn't choose a runner-up because all the entries were so good.

Words for 17 June 2011

I wonder what the old book and your extraordinary imaginations will come up with this week. Here you go...

  • Hypnotise (Hypnotist is acceptable)
  • Granules
  • Float


The rules are: 100 words max flash fiction or poetry using all of the words above. Please add your entries in the Comments box below. You have all week until 9pm UK time on Thursday 23rd June to enter.

Winner will be announced next Thursday or Friday. If you can, please tweet about your entry, using the #fridayflash hashtag, and blog if you feel like it.

Crack those knuckles, let the words spill...


  1. “Kneel Meredith,” Damien commanded.
    I didn’t want to. I tried to kick at him, to scream in protest, to spit in his face, but my body betrayed me and folded down until my weight rested on my knees. The sea salt he had laid on the dungeon’s floor dug into my flesh like tiny granules of pain.
    “Good girl,” he said, tugging on the leash attached to the leather collar around my neck causing me to lose my balance. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him.
    I felt my will float away as he hypnotized me into submission.

  2. Body art

    I sat unmoving, hypnotised by the patterns emerging, merging, puddling and overflowing as the drops of rain fell onto the expanse of naked and now blue-black back laid out before me, its slight greasiness delaying momentarily their coalescence. As the granules of orange pigment dissolved and formed wavering runnels, down spine, along ribs – ‘Storm at dawn’ perchance? - I was excited and then became bored. I scalpel-slashed it as I would a canvas – and became entranced again at the contrast of the sharply etched lines – slow scarlet leak then pearled along their length before these too disconnected and floated away.

  3. She Knew How to Choose Them, Too

    "I thought it would float," he said.
    No answer but the rhythmic hiss of the blade biting deep, the shush as it vomited its mouthful.
    "I didn't think it was that cold."
    Again and again. Hypnotic.
    I took a break for a smoke. Watch him writhe.
    I bit my lip. Fought the image of maggots on her bloated body. Seagulls picking at them.
    "I thought she could swim," he said.
    The wet shovelful of sand hit his face. He puffed granules out his nostrils.
    "It was an accident," he moaned.
    "She could swim. Like a champ," I said.

  4. Khyams Box

    He dared to open Khyam’s box, the gilded letters bore her warning “What does not start has no end”

    Watching the sands float through the hour glass within began to hypnotise him.

    “Each of those granules is a Soul” Khyam whispered into his sub-consciousness, “See how the sand is never emptied from the top, that’s because a new soul is born, to replace those lost, you are lost too Cabannon”

    Cabannon felt the ebb and flow till it overwhelmed his being, his soul billowed in the breeze, till he too became dust, swept away by Khyams tsunami of the soul.

  5. Whoot! Great entries already.

  6. Bloat

    He ran his fingers over the corpse’s coarse skin, dislodging granules of dirt, and prodded its stomach with his stubby fingers. It wasn’t ready yet.

    Too thin.

    Too fresh.

    He moved on to the next open grave, the tenant bloated with gas and juices.


    Sliding the knife from its sheath, he wrapped all ten of his stumpy digits around the handle and raised it over his head. He slammed the dagger into the rotten abdomen.

    Blood spluttered from the wound, dirty red droplets spraying his face.

    He breathed in the decay, hypnotized by the floating particles dancing before him.

  7. Buried treasure

    The two boys rubbed away the granules of dirt from the box. “Maybe it’s one of those time capsule things.” Scott said.
    “Na, buried treasure for sure.”
    “Course it ain’t. Open it”
    Johnny flipped the catch back and lifted the lid.“Oh my God.”
    Scott looked in the box. Half of the box was filled of water. Floating on the surface were dead leaves but under the water was something far more interesting. A gun. Both boys stared at it hypnotised before Scott snatched it. “Cool.”
    “What? You think this thing is loaded?”
    “Don’t point it at me!”

    St Force

  8. Forgiveness

    It’s the eye slag,
    hypnotist sorrow, laconic
    echoes of grief.

    It’s the infinite,
    fine granules of glass and sand,
    time’s toppled aftermath.

    It’s the force-fed faith,
    that apt angelic weight
    of frozen feathers.

    It’s anti-gravity,
    the dew drop letting go,
    not the fall— but its need to float.

  9. Nina, powerful stuff!
    Sandra, vivid descriptions, superb.
    Thomas, what an ending...
    William, this could be much longer...
    Steven, perfect horror writing
    Jack, great stuff here
    Angel, superb poem.

    nothing from me yet.

  10. Yay! Hi there, prediction people, so nice to see you =) Lily, darling, I´ve missed this! Even when I don´t have the time to participate, I always check in to read the goodies =)



    I found two eyes in a pool of water. Gray, large, unblinking, they hypnotised me.

    I felt the sun on my back, enhanced, like a stream of intense fire, floating down my spine, so I fell towards the water for its cool protection, and it swallowed me.

    The pool held a microworld, light dancing around me like shards of mirror glass. Granules of sand tumbling silently past me; a landslide without damages.

    Moving in slowmotion, I finally reached the bottom. I stared into the eyes and saw nothing but void.

    I left myself there, I have nothing more to say.


  11. Nina: killer last sentence.

    Sandra: great imagery.

    Thomas: tight writing, lots of story in a hundred words.

    William: what a beautiful myth.

    Steven: gross! Nice horror.

    Force: ah, boys and hidden treasures…

    Angel: wonderful! I love it, especially the last part.

  12. Back to comment soon - but I just finished a 3 1/2 hour novel research session, and can't wait to play!

    Here is:

    What Was in the Cage

    Edward stopped by the cage. He directed a withering glare at the trembling thing within.

    It wasn't necessary.

    The wretched, shivering traffic officer looked back. There was nothing in its eyes but the glazed, hypnotized stare of the trauma victim. The humanity had bled out through a dozen shallow cuts. It shook because its flesh was cold, nothing more.

    With an exquisitely sculpted silver knife, Edward scraped flakes of skin from their guest's lip. He stood and dropped the granules into Monica's proffered glass of champagne where they floated and swam like bloody fish.

    "Now darling," he said, "We begin."

  13. Nina: 'tiny granules of pain' - excellent
    Thomas: big story here, intriguing
    William: I've always been a sucker for hour glasses
    Steven: yuck - very gruesome
    St Force: great tale of boyish mischief
    Angel: 'eye slag' - so descriptive of something... uncertainly imagined
    asqui: 'landslide without damage' - lovely
    Chris: could have done without drinking a glass of red while reading this ...

  14. Steganography

    "Hey Tony..." George pointed at the monitor.

    Sender                            Subject
    OldFriend@glowingtoad... V!@gr@ ## Beware the Hypnotist she...
    PorscheTatyana              Swiss ## consumes soul's, granules ## replicas
    BeWithHerAgain@g...      FAST + ## of power ## BENEFICIAL
    搶跑                                  不要吃口香糖,## die, don't die ## 嚼在同一時間
    TripBar@penis.enl...     Programação ## flee ## da semana
    jones38                           Canadian ## stand her up ## Ph4macy CHE4P DRUGS

    "It's just spam," Tony said.

    "But... the hashes. A warning?"

    Tony rolled his eyes. "Just report it."

    George shrugged. Tony was always right.

    The doorbell rang. "My date..." George opened the door. Her gray eyes spun, black pupil's floating in a tornado's vortex. "Lovely..."

  15. Nina: I'm intrigued by how he seems to have hypnotized her body and then her mind. This is darker than the S/M tones with the feeling of betrayal.

    Sandra: love this fusion of art and homicide.

    Thomas: the title casts the story in a different light for me; I bet the accident was more than pushing her into the water.

    William: sweet, sweet world you've got here. I love this taste of it. Lovely names.

    Steven: great job capturing this man. You evoke strong feelings. I don't like him a bit. Hope he finds a zombie ;)

    Force: aah, the innocence of boys; sad/lovely way to end. Course it ain’t. Open it nice.

    Angel: great images, my favorite is the closing with the dew drop float.

    Asuqi: chilling, I have nothing more to say. I love the circularity, seeing eyes and falling into the water to become the eyes.

    Chris: intriguing place you've taken us with this preserved cop and the two toasting him.

  16. Alternate title for my entry: "Stegonagraphy or Why Spam Filters Are Bad for You" ;-)

  17. Evolution

    He disintegrated. His essence scattered across the universe, the granules of his corporeal existence floating on cosmic winds into the frozen emptiness of space.

    He drifted for millennia, existing as tiny particles, independent yet connected, conscious of each other’s voyage. And as they travelled they grew, teasing raw materials from the ether, constantly expanding, drawing energies around themselves like pearls growing from grains of sand.

    Some grew hot and bulbous, spewing forth stellar plumes to hypnotise distant watchers with their beauty whilst others rested, cooling in the darkness to contemplate their future evolution.

  18. Nina is this rape or S & M? Something is going horribly wrong either way - well plotted! (Glad to see you here!)

    Sandra this is so lush, I want more - is she flaying off a tattoo, or are ALL the colours her doing?

    Thomas the dialogue sets a breakneck pace for this tale of revenge. Great writing.

    William this is excellent - I love how fluidly the teller becomes the story. Great description. "Tsunami of the soul." Cool.

    Stephen Ghoulish. Literally. But your presentation practically normalizes his behaviour. It's great writing that does that.

    St. Force Horribly realistic ending to a well-told tale of youth. The dialogue-only in the 2nd half amps up the tension until the awful payoff. Great work.

    Angel "the need to float". I love this idea. It encapsulates so much, so quickly. (But that's always been a particular strength of yours.) Excellent, excellent work.

    asuqi Sucked me in as neatly as your narrator was. This was just plain cool. The ending "completes" the feeling of the piece, which makes the whole thing richer.

    Aidan Great use of the formatting. Twitters & Drabbles... like peas & carrots. Nice well rounded plot here.

    Phil This is a fantastic concept. I particularly like the idea of some particles "resting" - and the anticipation of what they might become.

  19. Asuqi, the eyes haunt me still.
    Aidan, innovative and compelling!
    Phil, outstanding!
    Chris, I love the imagery here.

    Ok, here goes... my entry for the week, which came very suddenly in the middle of writing an email, no less...

    Man Overboard

    He floated with eyes shut, sun burning his face, seagull cries hypnotically resounding across the murmuring sea. How long before he sank and became one with the granules on the seabed? Did it matter? Not any more. At least the pain had gone, numbed by the coldness of water which would sustain him just so long.
    Fool, he told himself, to argue with those who had the machetes, who craved the food and water he would have consumed, who resented his place in the lifeboat.
    The sooner this was over the better. A man cannot live without limbs.

  20. Well done Reba for winning last week! Excellent entries.


    The soothing sound seeped through the hallway; ambient musical strings floated like granules of dust caught in a beam of light.


    Hackett eased back in his chair, smoked his cigarette. Cool cerulean tendrils stroked his face as he listened to Rachmaninov’s dulcet concerto No 2.

    His finished artwork hypnotised him; deathly indulgent and deep velvety red. She was beautiful now he’d skinned her, peeled and pruned and...


    Weeping strange colours and glistening beneath the dull light, she was tremulous, drowning in her fear and pain.

    Her palette fascinated him. He exhaled; carved a path through the smoke.


  21. I'm posting this as a test...because I've finally found a way to access your blog, Lily. If this will post...I shall be back...

  22. I'll be back to comment later. In the meantime, here's one I made earlier...

    Under The Influence

    “A what?”

    “A hypnotist.”

    “No way.”

    “Oh, it’ll be a laugh.”

    “NO! Not after last time.”


    “Don’t you remember?”

    “No. What? When? Come on, tell me.”


    “Aw, come on.”

    “OK. You got called up on stage and, well he had everyone crawling around, eating granules of salt off the floor like you were some kind of pig, or something.”


    “Not funny. On the way home, you thought you’d float if you jumped into the canal. You were still under his influence and…..”

    “What happened?”


    “Well, what?”

    “Well, that’s why you’re dead!”



  23. Finally done with some big edits and ready to play again!

    Nina, so dark, chilling, and just plain excellent.

    Sandra, a lyrical absorption of fine prose. Love all the color and senses in this.

    Thomas, terrifying, with just the right amount of description and narrative.

    William, beautiful with a grand end.

    Steven, quite disturbing, and yet I’m curious for more.

    St. Force, buried treasure with a goldmine of secrets! Great finish.

    Angel, it never fails that I reread your prose multiple times, always so much to absorb and enjoy.

    Asuqi, this unusual gem is full of great visual and a subtle struggle of letting go, almost as if it already happened.

    Chris, you’ve gone back to the dark side and I like the creepy scenes that have emerged from your shadows.

    Phil, I always enjoy ‘galactic’ pieces and this one shines bright.

    Antonia, my God the end of that swept me to the bottom of that sea!

    AJ, you executed “Palette” with beautiful language and precision. Nice work.

    David, that’s definitely a new visual to ‘under the influence.’ I would never trust a hypnotist, especially now.

    And now my piece:

    The Man with Blue in His Beard

    It grew overnight, a black lotus. I cut the hearty stem, rough from the granules of gloom and the light of a deformed moon. It floated like a dream on my pillow.

    At the paling of an October dawn, his footsteps clapped, a thundering wicked dance in my heart—hypnotist of foreseeable doom.

    The black lotus crumbled from the force of his pitch at my feet. Thorn slashed skin, sickly taunting me with nightmare.

    “Where did you find this?” He bellowed.

    My suspicions confirmed. He drew a long blade. I thought I glimpsed the screams of the late Mrs.

  24. The Ballerina

    Bloody ribbons, glistening wetly, wove down her pale cheek as she executed a flawless pirouette.

    "Exquisite," the Marquee cooed, inclining his head at the emaciated ballerina. The alabaster skin seemed little more than rice paper upon the sharp bones of her frame, visible beneath the black tatters of her costume. "See how she floats."

    The ballerina performed another flawless turn, this time with arm outstretched towards the audience, granules of some glittery substance falling from her reddened fingers. The scars on her wrists caught the light. The crowd drew a collective breath.

    The Marque chuckled, low and dark. "My little hypnotist."

  25. Phil: I get two readings from this, one is a big bang, and the other a more direct reading of someone's conciousness spreading out and infecting everything it touches. An idea expanding outwards sometimes finding a fertile place to lie and other times... lying in wait.

    Antonia: a dark twist; one has to know when to speak one's mind and when to hold one's peace. You brought me solidly into your world.

    AJ: stark, stunning visuals, like the way this pulses and opens up.

    David: I've got to wonder if he drowned trying to save his hypnotized friend. Nice dialogue.

    Erin: nice poetic tinge to this; I like the dreams of black lotus.

    Zaiure: you capture some beautiful details in this piece. I like the subtle way I'm left wondering who left the scars and the bloody ribbons.

  26. Such beauty and darkness here these last few days, and some new Predictioneers too.

    Forgive my absence; I am reading - I assure you. Time, yet again is not my own at the moment. I hope to comment later but if not most definitely will do at the Thursday/Friday summary stage.

  27. Nina – Disturbingly dark. I like ‘folded down until my weight rested on my knees’. Good descriptions that bolster a chilling piece.

    Sandra – ‘Emerging, merging, puddling and overflowing’. Sublime use of assonance. Poetic and punchy.

    Thomas – Lovely descriptions – I like the way you have structured it, the balance of dialogue and narrative, dialogue, narrative works very well.

    William – There’s an ethereal feel to this, something deeply mystical which intrigues.

    Steven – This is grossly wonderful. I want to know more.

    STF – How often has this scenario happened in real life? You could extend this into a longer piece and allow you to explore your characters.

    Angel – Perfectly paced poetry and oodles of gorgeous assonance. Loved it.

    Asuqi – This has a very trance-like feel, effortlessly lulling the reader to its conclusion.

    Chris – How wonderfully ghoulish. There is more in this – a longer piece for sure.

    Aiden – A fresh way of storytelling – this made me smile.

    Phil – I like the gentle descriptions of the fabric of a universe coming together. ‘Stellar plumes to hypnotise distant watchers’ immediately conjured a sense of time, that these distant watchers would have to wait millennia to see that light.

    Antonia – Lovely descriptions with dark undertones. What a corking last line!

    David – I like the cold and abrupt delivery of this, it’s straight for the jugular.

    Erin – You weave poetry within the narrative to create some great imagery.

    Zaiurgrey – The metaphor here of rice paper upon sharp bones is wonderful; it’s packed with powerful imagery.

  28. Great entries, physically flinched at one or two...

    Nina - Is she just submissive by nature, or are there other powers at work...?

    Sandra - some great descriptions and yeah, "I scalpel-slashed it as I would a canvas" made me flinch... I felt that one.

    Thomas - great job weaving something of the set-up into the climax.

    William - philosophical and dreamy. I love the last line.

    Steven - that is gross... Good job! Made me feel somewhat ill...

    St Force - cursed treasure, then...? Powerful.

    Oh, Angel - each verse is more beautiful than the one before. Wonderful.

    Asuqi - I can feel the void behind the words. There's a dreamy nihilism to this.

    Chris - and yet again... I flinch. Made me suck my lips in defensively...

    Aidan - awesome. Very creative, I love it, and perfect ending.

    Phil - great piece, intelligent and poetic.

    Antonia - dark, and despite the machetes I didn't see that last line coming... well-played. =)

    AJ - stunning blend of beauty and pain, somehow gentle with its cruelty. Love it.

    David - Ha! A cautionary tale... great punch-line. ;)

    Erin - rich twisting language, a heady draft, indeed. I love a reworking of a myth or fairytale. =)

    Zaiure - Hi! =) This is tight, starkly beautiful and menacing at the same time, with a lingering sense of dark intent.

    Oh wow, I've got two pieces written this week, if you'll indulge me, but the standard is already so incredibly high I'm not sure I can match it. I hope you enjoy them, regardless. ;)

  29. Bad Science

    Cameron stirred the weak amber liquid with a glass rod. He watched the granules going round and round in a tornado-like funnel. It was kind of hypnotic.

    He began to feel drowsy. No. Keep stirring, stirring, stirring.

    His arm ached, but the grains would float to the top if he stopped and he never needed to hear those screams again.

    The liquid was deepening and darkening, slowly, so slowly. If he’d known that Virgin’s Terror took this long to dissolve he would never have used so much. The Wytch Mother always did chide him for his impatience.

  30. Pig’s Ear

    “I’m not sure, Cindy.”

    Paul poked the greasy foam floating on top of the mug; it was flecked with blackish-green granules. Looking at it made him feel nauseous.

    “It’s herbal medicine, Paul. Just swallow it quickly.”

    He looked into her eyes, dark, deep, hypnotic; his mouth went dry, how could he refuse those eyes?

    He steeled himself, then knocked it back in one go, gagging as the lumpy, viscous liquid went down. He felt strange, dizzy. He dropped to the floor.

    “I may have lied. My name’s not Cindy. It’s Circe.”

    Her laughter sounded strange, distorted.

  31. John, I loved both of those well-written pieces - witchcraft and herbal concoctions, with twist endings are my kind of tales! Nice titles too.

    Thanks AJ and AidanF.

  32. John, two great entries, the first is intriguing in the extreme.
    Zaiure - loved it, it left so many unanswered questions and yet it was all there in the images you conjured.
    Erin, dark as ever and full of menace.
    David, cautionary indeed!
    AJ, dark and sharp as ever. Loved it.

    It's only Tuesday -look what we concocted between us already, blood guts and murder. In equal proportions...

  33. Thank you Aidan, AJ, John and Antonia. :)

    Nina - A powerful scene. I like how Meredith struggles with defiance and submission.

    Sandra – Absolutely chilling. Despite my shudders, I was entranced by the artistic imagery.

    Thomas – I love how the dialogue tells the story. Great final line.

    William – I love the imagery of the final line “… his soul billowed in the breeze”.

    Steven – Horrifying and yet I was captured by the story. I want to know who he is…

    St Force – Treasure isn’t always what we expect…

    Angel – Exquisite. I love the first line.

    asuqi – Beautiful… “I left myself there”

    Chris – It’s a good thing I don’t like champagne! :) I’m curious what’s going to happen next…

    Aidan – Very creative, I wouldn’t have thought to do this. I love the secret in the spam… :D

    Phil – I was definitely transported with your piece. Love the imagery of this journey.

    Antonia – I wasn’t expecting the final line and gave an appropriate shudder as the image flooded my mind. I hope he does not drift long…

    AJ – Grisly and chilling. I’m still wincing! I love the line “His finished artwork hypnotized him; deathly indulgent and velvety red”.

    David – Loved the humor of this piece!

    Erin – Love the title (naming things is always challenging for me). The black lotus crumbling is an omen of something bad to come…

    John – Creative and chilling! Loved it! I'm curious about this world where terror can be captured and used...

  34. Nina - Loved the descriptives in this piece
    Sandra – I love the word runnels. A stark character that has me intrigued how she might use her human canvas next.
    Thomas – I love how you captured the dispassion born of tragic loss.
    Steven – Your piece is captivating in it's fetid glory, I want to know why he does that, more please.
    St Force – You've really captured the wide eyed horror of innocents playing with fatal consequences, Brilliant.
    Angel – I love, love, love this. Theres a sculpture called Reconciliation by Josefina de Vasconcellos, we have one of the bronzes made of it in Coventry Cathedral, there's another in Hiroshima. Your words are that. Hope that makes sense.
    asuqi – A beautiful piece that draws you into it's being.
    Antonia Shudder! You captured the pain in the bones and the buring of the salt on the wounds
    Chris – I love the descriptives in your piece, especially "where they floated and swam like bloody fish."
    Aidan – Very clever plot modern and unique
    Phil – SO somplex in such few words, I think you have the beginings of an epic voyage here that I would love to read.
    AJ – I've been itchy all day since reading this, you've got under my skin AJ. (pun unintended)
    David – The Two Blokes par excellence, really funny and very clever.
    Erin – Haunting words, that beg for more. I love it - You captured something so tragically Visceral, I took those images to my nightmares last night. Good Job.
    JohnBad Science:this is leading somewhere and it's only just begun. Pigs Ear: Must admit I was not aware of Circe, now I am, I'd probably drink it too.

  35. You are all cruel, and wicked - with your exquisite pennings and wily words. Judge or be judged? Who can say. All I know is, choosing a winner will be an impossible task - but I shall, dammit.

    I'll have a lot of comments to make after the Prediction doors have closed, but in the meantime - here's my entry:

    Up In Smoke: Absolution

    Scented granules float through the air, freezing like snow before exploding. In the street children stare, hypnotised by the eddying spectacle – a charade game of science.

    I am holding Lizabetha’s hand when shards slice my sister’s face. They hit my arm. Pieces of glass, green and bubbled – soft words for slivers sharp as blades. Upright fragments stipple my skin by the thousand, making it red. Making it drip. I feel nothing.

    Women of Bohemia will cry self-indulgent tears at the news; golden vials studded with gems – melted. Gums, resins, oils – gone.

    Le Parfumier est mort.

    But the children are free.

  36. Sliding in under the wire this week! Will comment afterward.


    With nothing yet to see, the townsfolk are hypnotized by waiting.

    Grace is all curves, from the fall of her hair, past her luscious breast, down to her meandering path. She remembers what she learned from them, from me. She chooses a strong, stupid farmboy, and sprinkles the granules.

    He scratches under his collar as the first float heaves into view, a listing ship in a place that has no water.

    I decide in that moment the young man should drown on dry land. When I save his life, the town will love me.

    It is a good beginning.

  37. Nina - I want to know what Meredith is, what Damien is, why the salt... everything!

    Sandra - A homocidial Jackson Pollack, with all the colors and confusion. Body Art can be read and re-read without losing potency.

    Thomas - The sounds make the story here, and the last line nails it.

    William - Khyams Box is mesmerizing. I could feel myself being pulled in, maybe under.

    Steven - That was appropriately gross and, despite my better judgment, I want to know the purpose of that ritual.

    St Force - My greatest nightmare, and the reason I don't have guns in the house, even though I enjoy shooting. Well done.

    Angel - Forgiveness is powerful, and I love the restrained alliteration.

    Asuqi - I followed your narrator into the water, and am glad I could not stay. I love the slow tumble into drowning.

    Chris - I was hoping you would continue that story, and boy did you! I don't feel any better knowing what's in the cage.

    AidanF - So perfect. It is amazing what we cannot see. It took a moment for me to find the message, and I knew there must be one.

    Phil - You evoke the quiet and vastness of space, but this could easily be happening on a smaller scale.

    Antonia - The weight of his resignation pulled at me, and the last line was a tragic reveal.

    AJ - You create this sickening scene with such lyrical beauty that I find myself drawn in and repulsed at the same time.

    David - The dialogue gives us a real sense of camaraderie, which makes the twist at the end even better.

    Erin - Such a storybook feel, but in the wrong colors for a children's story. I like how it breaks off at the end.

    Zaiuregrey - I found myself wondering if the ballerina is still alive or perhaps only believes herself to be. Beautiful imagery in this.

    John - Is it wrong that I found myself laughing at Paul in Pig's Ear? Probably, but there it is. Not so, my reaction to Bad Science. The combination of a tedious task with the things it took to create it is chilling.

    Lily - What a terrible picture you paint! And free has so many meanings here. I'm rather glad I forgot perfume today, or I might feel some guilt.

  38. Last minute comments! Joyous Midsummer, everyone!

    Chris – Scary and intriguing!

    AidanF – Wild plot! Horror in the computer era =)

    Phil - Poetic and scary! I can totally see this happen.

    Antonia – Chilling. I love the reflecting quality here.

    AJ – Oooo, so sick!

    David – Heee, am I wrong to laugh? So much fun =)

    Erin – great little story! Unexpected and with a perfect title.

    Zaiuregrey – Wonderful imagery! Intriguing relationship, I want more!

    John – Twisted and (yes!) distorted and absolutely wonderful =)

    Lily – such elegant horror, loved it!

  39. RR - exciting! Killer last line.

  40. Thank you - I thank you. The Prediction is now closed.

  41. No more additions - but the rest of my comments!

    Antonia There’s a black humour at the bottom of this that makes the experiences that much more real, and thus, terrifying. (The evil bastard in me wants to know if his name’s “Bob”)

    AJ I love the idea of music floating like granules of dust. The rest of the piece is so viscerally compelling, and the “pulse” works so well to keep us gripped.

    DavidI love the idea of someone trying to wheedle a ghost into going to see a hypnotist. That’s clever writing there. You’ve got a great ear for dialogue, and it shows here.

    Erin “I thought I glimpsed the screams of the late Mr.”… in the blade of the knife?? That’s brilliant. I know I’ve GOT to start working harder when I see description like that.

    Zaiuregray This is so wonderfully dark, and the balance between the delicate dance and the horrors of the flesh that you promise towards the end is exquisite.

    John 1) this just feels so damned polished, I don’t know what to say. So original. Awesome. 2) By Circe!! Love the way the old myths keep being reinvented. It’s why we still have them.

    Lily This was worth the wait. This is a slice of life with something to say, and enough deep, piercing imagery to make sure we’ll listen. Loved it.

    RR You know you can’t just leave this here, don’t you? More please!


Lily Childs is a writer of horror, esoteric, mystery and chilling fiction.

If you see her dancing outside in a thunder storm - don't try to bring her in. She's safe.