Friday, 18 November 2011

Lily's Friday Prediction

What a week! The Childs family in now a healthy mob, all ready to pick today's Prediction challenge words from the big book.

And of course, I've finally published the second in the Magenta Shaman series, Magenta Shaman Stones The Crow.

I've already held you up long enough so lets kick on...

Winner of Last Week's Prediction Challenge

Great mix of styles and directions this week, which actually makes it harder to choose winners. However - the task is complete.

Rising two places to the top of the charts my winner this week is AJ Humpage with her squidgy, gut-wrenching (literally) horror-fest that is... Squirm. Disinfectant at the ready... Congratulations AJ!!

And my runner-up with a tale worse than death is Nick Mott with God's Love Lacking. Very well done Nick.

Words for 18 November 2011

  • Monsoon
  • Chapel
  • Transcend
Hmmnn, better get the brollie out.


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 the whole week until 9pm UK time on Thursday 24th November to enter.

Winner will be announced next Friday 25th November. If you can, please tweet about your entry, using the #fridayflash hashtag, and blog if you feel like it.

Lie down, meditate and invite the words in. I'll hear them in my dreams...


  1. congratulations AJ and Nick! Absolutely outstanding writing.
    Now to meditate on this week's words...

  2. Thanks to Lily for the runners up spot (and to everyone who posted and commented - all good fun). Of course congrats to AJ for that revolting and enjoyable story.

    Also thanks to Antonia for the heads up on the Pill Hill press thing. Submitted yesterday got accepted today. Get submitting before it's too late.

    Will hopefully be back later with an entry for this week.

  3. Congratulations AJ and Nick - great pieces. Finally found time (world seems to have gone crazy of late) to comment on last week's entries and have posted it on that thread if you want to see my thoughts.

    Lily - congrats on letting Magenta out into the world again. Will download and enjoy :-)

    Will come back later this week and post an entry (hopefully not written on the train home for once!!!).

  4. Thanks muchly. This is a nice little birthday present. Been out for the day enjoying friends and family, so this is a nice surprise.

    Congrats to Nick too.

  5. Happy Birthday, and Congratulations AJ! Your story had some serious staying power. Equal 'gratz to Nick! Enjoyed your story very much.

    Antonia - thanks for the "Heads-up" about PHP's situation. I've just sent off my contracts for two entries that they liked, one of which was my little piece about being itchy, "Scratch" that was a Prediction original.

    I feel fun times with these words ahead.

  6. Congrats to AJ and Nick, superb writing.

  7. Thanks Phil for downloading Magenta - I'm sure she'll appreciate it :-)

    Happy Birthday AJ!!!! x

  8. Congrats to AJ and Nick.. Superb writing..xx

  9. this week's entry:
    Wishes Granted

    The mannequin in the window of Monsoon stared blankly at the world. The dress being modeled transcended fashion, timeless, beautiful, expensive. The girl stared back with eyes that revealed her longing. ‘Hear my prayer,’ she muttered to the plate glass. ‘I went to the chapel, I prayed!’
    ‘I did.’
    She spun round to see a dark haired handsome man by her side. ‘I heard you. Your wish is granted.’
    ‘Thank y…’
    Too late she saw the horns on his head. Too late she grabbed at her prayer.
    The mannequin in the window of Monsoon stared out at the world. Forever.

  10. Oh Antonia - how timely. I am having a major declutter this afternoon and have reluctantly put ten girls' Monsoon dresses into a bag to pass on. They are so beautiful, but my friend's daughter is beautiful too and will look gorgeous in them - but I can't deny it's not a wrench. Why oh why doesn't Monsoon make their girls' dresses in grown-up sizes?

    OK, back to fiction. I love the feel to Wishes Granted; an old-fashioned eerie sensation to this tale that teases the reader with darkness, romance and the devil himself. Charming.

  11. @Antonia yes lots of darkness about this one, it does remind one to be careful what they wish for eh!

    Will come back later and post something ^_^

  12. CONGRATS to AJ for flushing out a winner ... and to Nick in time for coming in on an unheard prayer. Everyone fueled great mule trains, didn't they?

    Happy flaming candle wishes AJ ... momentous Magenta morphing new destinies Lady Lily ... and more to life than fast trains Phil. (couldn't resist - caught all you had to say after the final bell had rung and absolutely dug it.)

    @animated ANTONIA (who sure seems healthier) ~ A Monsoon mannequin is at least statuesque, despite the fashion of her fate. This phrase, an instant charmer: "She grabbed at her prayer".

    ~ Absolutely*Kate

  13. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "There's a chapel in the moonlight -- There! See? Twin spires?

    "Why the hell or heaven is a chapel smack dab in Agita Forest? This is Godforsaken land, far beyond reverence or reach of any hombre, femme -- even varmint -- I mean Jen, c'mon -- "

    "About time we found shelter from maelstrom. YOU, c'mon Donald! Twas your empath brainstorm to seek Gundel's spirit that murked us through hell and high brackish water -- Now, a friggin' monsoon? Why don't you attune?"

    ! ! !

    Two travelers slept in an altar heap. Gundel did transcend, fresh yin/yang rising from sacrificial Don/Jen. Gundel was a Gemini.


    Deardoms @ Feardom ~ I'm challenging myself to flesh out the intrigue of Gundel through whatsoever trinity of wordliness Lady Lily strews to our scribing weekly winds . . . unless of course, some supremely cool storyline pushes harder . . . We shall see.

    Happy Thanks be Giving week you guys, from the confluence of two rivers in the land called Connecticut. *Congrats* on healing returns and sensations of submissions stirring.

    Glad I conquered fear to Lily's lair - You're such a joy to joust with!

    ~ Absolutely*Kate

  14. love to read your entries, A-Kate! this is intriguing and yes, flesh it out, there is a lot in the intrigue of Gundel we need to know. Not want, need!
    Thanks for the good words, Lily and A-Kate. That one came to me full blown before sleep so my prayer was 'let me remember this in the morning...' and the prayer was answered, I did!

  15. hijacking this for another bit of marketing info for those of you who can do this:
    check it out. A paying market, $20 plus copy of the book for all contributors. is currently looking for submissions of stories involving or inspired by the most noble and fascinating of marine animals, the octopus. We welcome all subgenres and forms of fiction, spanning genres and styles, from romance, historical fiction, crime dramas, to sci-fi horror. We are looking for short stories which either showcase or are inspired by the octopus as a central theme.

    Read more:
    lengthy guidelines there. One of the Predictioneers must be able to do this, I can't!

  16. Wrap myself into a sexy octopus? Mmmmmm Lotta possibilities strokin' there . . . Thanks Antonia! ~ Absolutely*Kate

  17. Cold on its way and cannnot sleep so thought I'd get out of my pit and post my offering.

    Antonia - submitted two pieces to PHP and both accepted so thanks for the heads up :-)

    Anyway, to my submission for your pleasure:

    Preacher man

    They came to transcend, to find peace with their God, flocking to the preacher in droves. The sick, the elderly, the crippled, eager to gain hope from his words.

    Expectant faces gazed adoringly at his pulpit from their pews as he preached salvation.

    Maureen Mulwhinney was the first. They gasped as she floated upwards, shimmering as she rose, the reverend’s outstretched hands controlling her decrepit body. Then others joined her, flocking like derelicts emulating angels.

    Blood seeped from their pores, misting around the Seraphim, swirling into a sanguineous monsoon, dowsing the screaming congregation now clamouring against the unyielding chapel doors.

  18. @Kate, as always a pleasure to read your offerings, Grundel is certainly an interesting character - glad they found shelter ^_^

    @Phil very chilling!

  19. Here's my offering - hope you enjoy it. ^_^

    The First Supper

    The Chapel was deathly quiet except for the whimpers of the priest he held in his grip. He had transcended those that came before, by crossing the threshold of this holy place. The wind whipped itself up in a frenzied dance around the building, as it howled for the Monsoon to follow in its wake. His very presence in this place disrupted the elements of nature.

    “You’re an abomination to God,” cried the priest.

    “God cannot stop me now that I can walk in his house. I shall eat at his table, and you will be my first meal...”

  20. Chris, Phil, congratulations! PHP can go ahead with the project now! I'm in there under the Dorothy Davies name, good to know Predictioneers will be there with me.
    Phil, vivid description here - gory vivid description at that!
    Helen, love the last line of this, very chilling.

    Back from the dentist and bothered by something he said to the dental nurse, it has to come out in a story sooner or later...
    'lump of cement in the mouth' ... WTF?

  21. Antonia – Creepy and lesson in watch what you pray for – it might not be God that answers!! Also I have no idea what a Monsoon dress is!

    A.Kate – love the use of “Godforsaken land”. Great image in such few words. Definitely expand!

    Phil – really enjoyed this – loved the phrase “derelicts emulating angels” and can fully image the horror of the churchgoers.

    Helen – Ah good old cannibalism – nothing like a freshly cooked human (medium rare?) to start a feast (not that I would now…honest!).

  22. My entry for this week

    Fingering Around in the Viscera

    I slit his throat in the chapel. Our quarrel transcended the banal of everyday that people die for. Our families had been at war for generations and we were the last. It was raining hard, monsoon season, when I found him on his knees in prayer. I crept up behind him, straight razor gleaming, and slowly, almost erotically, ran it across his throat. I then went to work on his innards, tearing every major organ to shreds as tradition demanded; cleansing work for dirty souls. I stand here now, his heart in hand, drenched in blood and victory.

  23. Also thought I would share my first version using the 3 words - it's not a serious entry (obviously!).

    I went To The Feardom And All I Got Was This Lousy Sentence!

    I was transcendental in the chapel when the Monsoon hit so it didn’t matter.

  24. At home convalescing so thought I'd grab five mins to comment on other entries:

    Antonia - classic 'be careful what you wish for' piece. The handsome 'man' exploiting the greed in others. Very good.

    Kate - flexing your lyrical literary muscle yet again. Poor Don and Jen - at least Gundel was well catered for :-)

    Helen - And speaking of catering we have The First Supper. Dark tale of a demon ascending into God's house with the priest powerless. Darkly disturbing.

    Nick - "I crept up behind him, straight razor gleaming, and slowly, almost erotically, ran it across his throat" - such a great phrase, dripping with emotion. Loved it.

    Nick take 2 - clearly a winner! ;-)

  25. Congratulations, AJ and Nick. =)

    Antonia - What a handsome devil... ;) Classic trickster twist. =)

    Kate - I'll happily welcome such a Gemini into the ranks. Look forward to more of gruesome Gundel. =)

    Phil - what a sticky sanguinary shower. Nasty... Great writing. =)

    Helen - that certainly isn't God's house any more... love "I shall eat at his table". Good stuff. =)

    Nick - I hear victory is good for the skin, everyone should bathe in it once in a while... ;) That is one grisly tradition. =)

  26. I wrote a new Audreys piece, but unfortunately there was no room for Monsoon... =(



    Find somewhere high, somewhere safe. Hide.

    The white noise of the monsoon-born storm transcended anything Simon had experienced in England, it was deafening and terrible, biblical. The way the walls were shaking he feared that the abandoned chapel might be torn apart.

    The locals had warned him of such weather, and the things it drove above ground: things better left unseen, unimagined.

    Superstitious nonsense. He shivered and pulled the blanket around himself.

    There was an urgent rattling at the doors, a heavy, frantic banging, and guttural shouting, half-stolen by the storm. Simon smiled, relieved, some company would be good.

  27. Nick, Monsoon is a chain of stores, they have their own distinctive line of clothes and accessories, anything I have which I really like is invariably Monsoon, but I don't buy from the stores, I buy from ebay! I really liked the gore dripping out of your entry this week!!!
    John, this one's so good, leaving it to our imagination like that.
    Phil, get well soon!

    Note: I have just re-read Richard Matheson's Born Of Man And Woman. It still shocks and lingers in the mind after all these years. (First appeared in 1950) and I know well it influenced my last story, It's A Long Way To Sometime, which I haven't quite got over yet. It won't leave my mind. I am desperate to write another story and clear this one, if I can. If I could stop visiting the dentist it would help... not to mention paying him to do stuff like pull teeth out!

  28. Yum. Gorgeously dark entries - I feel totally self-indulgent flailing in your creativity.

    Despite taking an afternoon off, all my plans were thwarted so comments will come tomorrow evening, all being well.

    In the meantime, here's my Prediction entry...

    Go Forth

    Fat. Not his body, not the eyeballs bulging from alcohol lust – but his very presence - arrogant and swollen as a monsoon gutter. Father Burgess sheltered in his own chapel ignoring the hungry congregation at the door.

    “Lord, save us,” they cried. “Give us your blessing. Baptise us into your bosom.”

    “Oh fuck off,” Burgess slurred into a font of gin. He plucked a consecration goblet from a crumbling shelf, plunged it into the juniper vat and cast his eyes to heaven.

    They broke the door down as their priest’s soul transcended, and – weeping – tore the coward’s empty corpse apart.

  29. @John - I want to shout "don't open the door!" I loved your opening it set the scene perfectly.

    @Lily, oh that's one pissed off congregation! I could picture that priest, you brought him to life in a very visual piece of writing.

  30. Congratulations to AJ and Nick! Worthy stories both.


    He took me to the chapel, long abandoned by the dead. You’d think spirits would linger to protest the removal of their corporeal forms. There was nothing but monsoon winds without water, as if the ocean knew better than to rise up against him as we had.

    He took me in the chapel, by the altar of a fickle god, no murmured endearments, no matrimonial promises. I knew the moment I changed, transcending from human to that which serves, ever ready, never sated. Then I knew nothing but His love, His will, His truth.

    Thus was the world made new.

  31. Dreaming of Silence

    It came, like a hungry monsoon, wet and cold and rasping against her doughy, clammy skin.

    The wind rocked her; hands clasped the slippery railing.

    Clouds in the distance churned like a churlish demon; light flashed across her face.

    Her heartbeat – calm in her mind, like soft whispers in a chapel – rattled in her chest, stole her breath.

    Beneath her, through a thick black maw, the water bristled and waited patiently for her.

    She’d finally transcended the fear, wrested back control. Not that her tormentors cared. She never asked to be bullied.

    She dropped headfirst into the blackness. Silent.


  32. Grace

    A Chapel amidst sex shops, it really does transcend human decency.

    “Is them gas masks for terrorist attacks?”
    “For bondage, d’yer fancy it darling?” the assistant cackled.
    “It’s an abomination...”

    At 74, age is on me side.
    They don’t expect it from an old bird – stun em with a lung-load a gob, then slice the jugular.

    “How’s that for bondage, yer dirty bleeder, not so cocky now are ya?”

    The heavens opened as I left, always do when I get rid of filth.

    ‘Monsoon Murderer’ the papers call me; they’re looking for a fella – God protects his cleaners.

  33. Apologies, again. All wasn't well - as anticipated.

    There's too much too explain but the very least problem is intermittent broadband. If I can't get to comment this week I am mightily sorry, but I see you are all supporting each other and giving feedback which is fantastic.

    I am not in tomorrow after work but will do what I can. Thank you for (hopefully) understanding.


  34. Of course we understand. =) That you manage to compère and corral us lot week in, week out is a herculean task in itself, without real life intruding (how rude of it). ;)

    Best wishes, Lily, hope everything gets sorted.

    Go Forth is intriguing, great scene, great description of Father Burgess, tantalises with something complex that must have gone before.

    Reba - love the echoed line. The whole piece speaks of transitions to me, of beauty in corruption.

    AJ - great descriptions, immersing, and such a sad ending. Well told.

    Grogan - love the title, fitting. Very interesting character you've got going there. =)

  35. Well, I've got half-an-hour. A few words is better then none, non?

    ABSOLUTELY*KATE, a rising of souls through hell and high water. Fantastic. Gundel a Gemini? The best of us are.

    Phil, a bloody evaporation. Highly visual and terrifying.

    Helen, marvellously powerful scenario of a priest in the grip of darkness personified.

    Nick, splendid title for starters. Love this family feud and the visceral revenge, so beautifully described. (I have a story not too disimilar I'm waiting on a magazine acceptance for.)

    John, hope an Audreys piece will wait patiently (patience not being their thing). Great twist at the end of this hurricane of a story. Fit for a movie.

    Reba, a gorgeous, godless seduction. "... that which serves, ever ready, never sated" Love it.

    AJ, a tragic suicide for a girl believing the plunge would quieten the bullies. Heart-rending.

    Grogan, gritty perversion, fabulous voice. This idea has legs - novel length. Brilliant.

    There. I did it! Phew...

  36. In monsoon season, the chapel fell
    In monsoon season, nothing was well
    In monsoon season we lived through hell.

    In hurricane season, sports cars flew
    In hurricane season, the walls bled blue
    In hurricane season, we made it through

    In tornado season, my house disappeared
    In tornado season, the roof was sheared
    In tornado season, we learned to fear

    In nightmare season, the monsters came
    In nightmare season, we all knew pain
    In nightmare season, we went insane

    In heartbreak season, I lost my best friend
    In heartbreak season, I made hurt transcend.
    In heartbreak season, I made pain transcend.

    I brought you flowers.

  37. @Grogan - excellent tale, and well told. Love the last line.

    @AJ - "She'd never asked to be bullied" - you have a gift of getting to the guts of the matter in the clearest, most crystal terms possible. Brilliant.

    @RR - so very picturesque, and a great setting for this tale. Way to take the "type" out of the cold and gritty city. Loved the descriptions!

    @Lily - this is dark, with some wry little flourishes, and you reveal a complexity at the end that hints at something greater. Loved it.

    @John - I love the suspense you leave this one off with. It painted such a vivid picture in my mind.

    @Nick - It seems you had almost as much fun as your MC, mucking around in the guts & goo. This was nicely put together!

    @Helen - intriguing! A monster that chooses to prey on "the enemy". Like the atmosphereic intro too!

    @Phil - I want to see this filmed and played out on late-night TV. It's got that creepy, cinematic quality. (But then... I've been watching a lot of "American Horror Story", this felt like it could be a vignette in that stunning series)

    @Kate - TEASE!! Glad to see in your footnote that we get to see more of this excellent tale. Has anyone ever done a novel 100 words at a time? Could be a first...

    @Antonia - this is wicked, and so perfectly constructed in such a tight space. Loved it.


    PS - my apologies for going a few words over in my post! I'll do 95 next week. ;)

  38. Across The Veil You Heard My Call

    Happy and sated, in the circle of Kayden’s arms, Tribly stiffened, feeling the combined energies that created the monsoon of magics ebb.

    Kayden spoke.

    “What we are - we could never go onto consecrated ground, but we don’t need a chapel. Our bond transcends everything, even –“

    “Please don’t say it.” Tribly pleaded.

    “This isn’t the last time for us, you must come find me.”

    Kayden’s voice was fading, last words barely a whisper. Soon his eyes glazed, reflecting the starry night sky. Fighting back tears, Tribly gave him one last kiss before gently lowering him back into his grave.

  39. This comment has been removed by the author.

  40. Damned grammer, I'll try again


    Moonlight pierced the fractured chapel window and refracted off rivulets of mercury that seeped from Jonahs swollen belly, each one tracing out the lines of his stretch marks. The followers chanted their unearthly mantra, a mewling as frenzied as Jonahs abundant nakedness. It was time for the unborns to transcend their host. New life began as a trickle at first, but soon Jonahs body gave way to their flow and the congregation were bathed in a monsoon of galactic silverfish, as they became a writhing mass of sustenance for the new lives, as the planets aligned with an abrupt silence.

  41. Chris, a touching and tragic recollection of a twisting, spiralling hell - with a hopeful ending. The extra five words were worth it.

    MuckieDuckie, great to see you back in The Feardom's halls. Such an emotional fantasy here between Kayden and Tribly, playing on our ignorance of their gender and even whether they are human.

    I am off out for the evening now, so will be back after the Prediction closes at 9pm UK time. Toodleoo!

  42. Antonia: My first thought was to use Monsoon, but you exploited it beautifully and I changed tack. I couldn’t better your dark tale of wishful thinking.

    Absolutely Kate: Love the language. I’m hooked on Gundel and can’t wait to tune in next week.

    Philambler: ‘swirling into a sanguineous monsoon’ stunning visuals.

    Helen: Such beautifully crafted cannibalism. Yummy!

    Nick: That actually made me flinch, vividly visceral.

    John: Great spooky atmosphere, I’m imagining all sorts of nasty behind that door.

    Lilly: ‘eye balls bulging from alcohol lust’ I can see him clearly. His drunken disdain made me laugh out loud.

    RR Kovar: A perfectly realized supplicant.

    AJ: Wow! At work yesterday, we were discussing the tragic death of Angie Dowds (TV trainer who jumped off Beachy Head,) wondering want went through her mind before she jumped – and then I read this. Sublime, superb, so, so sad.

    Chris: A different take that I found very poignant – I love the last line, it ‘jars’ yet ‘fits’ perfectly.

  43. John – I liked the ambiguousness of this one – is he naïve and going to be torn apart or is he the one going to do the tearing – good stuff.

    Lily – Loved the phrase “crumbling shelf” – 2 words that are used to describe the whole church and by implication the priest himself. “Font of Gin” I like the sound of that!!

    Reba – The first line sets up the rest of the story so well – just the thought that something was so terrible that the dead had even left – brilliant!

    AJ – really liked the way this built up to an almost crescendo. It had a rhythm to it that you ended really well with that final beat “Gone.”.

    Grogan – It’s funny how I found the phrase “lung-load of gob” most disgusting and disturbing than “slice the jugular” – great turn of phrase.

    Chris – Could easily imagine those as lyrics to a rock song or perhaps a jazz track.

    MuckieDuckie – Enjoyed this – great line “Soon his eyes glazed, reflecting the starry night sky” can fully picture that scene.

    William – I hope to hell that never happens to me – giving birth to mercury made silverfish sounds horrendous. Could be fun to watch though!

  44. start with news: is up and running, if you want to know more about me and my writing! I am a bit pleased with it.
    OK, comments on the entries this week, SOOOO good!
    William, scary evocative images of those silverfish...
    MuckieDuckie, tenderness and heartbreak. Good one.
    Chris, startling poem this, very stark and enthralling.
    Grogan, sorry I stole the Monsoon idea before you could get it! Loved your entry, very dark.
    AJ. your entries are always the epitome of simplicity in the writing but saying so much more than is actually there in the 100 words. Love the title of this one.
    RR, a delicate piece of writing which enchanted me.
    Lily, Go Forth contains much much more that could be written. If you have the time.
    I have a story building but have been website building instead. More like coping with the technology of the website than anything else! I will be getting back to proper writing ere long. The screen demands words.

  45. William, our comments must have crossed earlier, apologies I didn't include your entry. I love the calm before the frenetic storm of birth in this painting you've made. Here is a Bosch of words. Dazzling.

  46. Been Thanks-be-Givin' over here in little CT ... Know thee my commentary comes after ample feasting and peace within - how that's gonna fare in Feardom, we shall see ~

    @preachin' PHIL ~ "They came to transcend" should be the hopes and prayers of every religion that really has its spirituality spiralin' in place! Maureen Mulwhinney was a winner of a christening. Loved the gasping, shimmering, flocking, swirling - felt right holy reading into your chapel. Yikes, then it got bloody dangerous to belong to your congregation. /// So, what kind of cold-medicine are you taking? (*get better - I so admire your high style*)

    @haunting HELEN ~ Unholy howling off the Hallelujahs Helen! Abominations as the main entree? A disruption to nature and digestion. Title rocked.

    @notorious NICK ~ Dug your cool keen phraseology-theology: "transcended the banal of everyday that people die for." On to the feud that leaves the victor heart in hand. Dirty soul cleansing experiences have got nuttin' on You! (Title had me laughin' past the audibles of "ewwwww") The razor scene has been requested for GodFather 4. Entry 2 sandwiched your wry on the side in fine form!

    @juxtapositioning JOHN ~ There's no superstitious nonsense when your Feardom comes knockin' at your nonsanctimonious sanctuary. You opened the drama'fear frisson at admonition's onset. The strength of simplicity scared on: " things better left unseen, unimagined"

    @laudatory LILY ~ "Go Forth" was descriptive over disruptive to decisive. All in 100 words I saw the fat Father's slim chances. Brava

    @rapacious RR ~ Never sated indeed. Last liner note was fulfillment. Felt the scene - great writing.

    @all'weather AJ ~ Stormy ending raged within. Your title spoke it -- SILENCE . . . found when lost.

    @grace o'GROGRAN ~ Damn! MONSOON MURDERER -- the caper crusader. Bring him back, bring him back! So love the premise of his promise, but not as much as this killer winner closing: "God protects his cleaners". applause

    @chorusing CHRIS ~ Man oh man, I'll sing your praises forever. What a riff. Seems so simple. Refrains so strong. Yeah, definitely a smoky haze jazz to this ... or ... a mantra. (hope you make it without those precious 5 words next week)

    @magicks of MUCKIE ~ Your words conveyed a pileup and a reach-for of combined energies. Title taunted.

    @wily WILLIAM ~ Silverfish indeed! Just for the halibut, YIELD transcended any mortal maybe.

    Ahhhh ANTONIA ~ "Lump o'cement in the mouth"? Paying for pain? Certainly a mouthfull of WTF-moments. May you transcend -- dental dangers to your website wonders -- I shall come visit.

    Lily, hopefully instead of mere mortal understanding (we transcend, predictably at the Predictionarly) ... we can collectively kineticize (a word?) (should be) your internet persnickiness. Here's my vibes. Betcha you can feel all others

    Mea culpa my tardiness in UK time ... The turkey and pumpkin pie did their transcending ... a monsoon of holidayin', more spirited than any chapel

  47. Antonia I love the desperate grabbing at the prayer. Who did she think would answer such a selfish wish? The fulfillment was chilling.

    Kate Murked as a verb is so clever and their argument feels like long acquaintaince. The last line is a twist of the knife.

    Phil I can always count on you to bring the dreadful with such sublime beauty. a sanguineous monsoon reads like a terrible carress.

    Helen I think your dreaded "He" and mine might be related. Turning the transgression of holy ground into transcendence was brilliant.

    Nick I get the feeling he didn't even know why he had to do it, just that he did, which makes it all the more chilling.

    John Poor Simon, too practical to survive. I don't know what was on the other side of that door, but I'm sure it was dreadful. Great suspense!

    Lily The idea of a fat presence was so laden and corrupt it set the tone beautifully. The font of gin was a fabulous capper. I hope the pickling made the bastard tender.

    AJ You made me think of all the people I pulled back from that edge - and the ones I couldn't. So terrible to be in that much pain because others were so callously cruel.

    Grogan I ought to be horrified, as sex-positive as I am, but I was swept up in the righteousness. Heady, vile stuff.

    Chris A love poem in dreadful times - this was a mesmerizing piece.

    MuckieDuckie Oooh, necromancy! This is at once touching and repulsive. I don't know whether or not to cheer them on.

    William Such a lush portrait of destruction in birth. I want to reach back to the beginning of this tale and follow it to this awful conclusion. The silence at the end did me in.


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.