Friday, 18 February 2011

A quickie - if you don't mind.

I took possession of a shiny new laptop with a disturbingly white keyboard today, for the day job (yes, I do have one). In my teeny, weeny lunch-break I took a peek at The Prediction, only to find the entire thing was a ghastly red with black text. As I train people in Web Accessibility I was somewhat horrified, as I'm sure you can imagine. It's only using IE7.

Below is what I hope you all see; if instead you see something resembling my horror experience above please do let me know. As I use a blogger template I'm not sure what I can do about it, but thank you.

What Lily Childs' Feardom Should Look Like (click to see in full size):

Lily's Friday Prediction

The moon, as I sloped off to bed in the early hours was fat and aglow with promise. This morning I can't even see the roofs for the mist that has crept off the sea in her wake. Apparently the sun is sending forth bursts of magnetic fire today which will interfere with technology, networks and infrastructure - a battle with Mercury then.

Congratulations to David Barber, good friend and traveller on the writing journey who was the winner of last week's Prediction with his tragic farewell, The Shape Of An Angel. Well done too to runners-up Aidan Fritz with the terrifying Halfbreeds and Ellie Garratt with her sci-fi apocalypse Gravity.

I have three new words for you. I hope they get under your skin:

  • Irish
  • Tide
  • Coach

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 Wednesday 23rd February to enter. (Note - a day early)

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.

There's a dance in my head - not sure if it's a jig or a tango...

Enter the live labyrinth of Asuqi - February Femme Fatale.

February Femmes Fatales -
February 18th 

This second piece of prose from Asuqi perfectly demonstrates her art. She has a unique attitude, studded with astute observation and delivery.

Betrayed thunders through the subject of abuse, at the heart of which is a little Alice lost and ever on the escape yet trapped by affection and loyalty.

For me there's a 1950s feel to Betrayed with deliberate exclamations to contradict the tragedy; unnerving as Sylvia Plath poetry.

Enter the maze; may you follow your own path...

Betrayed by Asuqi

This is a confined space, too narrow to live in or like, but it’s what I’ve got left and in a way, I suppose it suits me.

I lost myself in a labyrinth, the pretty one, in our vast garden. My sisters were snatched away from our lovely childhood by a monster too abhorrent to speak of. Me, I chose the maze.

Try chasing me here! Try finding me! I’m lost, I’m lost, impossible to find!

I spent these long years ensuring the labyrinth’s utter complexity. I recreated the paths, reorganized the hedges. I made a science of intricacy.

I sometimes see my sisters cry, the monster’s shadow heavy on their chests. I turn to lightness then, bend myself backwards and spiral away – I only dance abstract pieces.

The laces I’m wrapped in are my mother’s from a lifetime ago, I think the monster wanted me in them, but I can’t discard them, freedom is not mine to take.

Oh my God! He came for me! Last night in my dreams! Soft brown eyes, wine-scented kisses and his treacherous hands fumbling under my layers of lace.

My heart and my thoughts fluttered endlessly then, like the delicate membranes of a butterfly.

"Someone ought to have saved you," you say, your eyes a glacial sincerity. "Someone should have come for you!"

But there’s no one left, you see! And the softness in my eyes is as brown as his. We’re two of a kind, and this is what holds me secured more than anything; his body so close to mine, our minds entwined, the horrors he performed - are they the tales of my soul?

So I stay here, trapped, between him and myself. If you hear me scream, please go away, if I plead just leave! I´m ruined beyond salvation and if you come from a place of light, your heart pure and sweet, just forget about me, for I will turn my face to you, and I cannot promise my smile won´t be his.

Please accept me as Asuqi. On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero. So I go about searching for near-life experiences. I know them when they hit me, they tickle my brain. I only have questions, I am Jack's complete lack of certainty. Yes; "Fight Club". Always.


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.