Friday, 23 March 2012

Lily's Friday Prediction

Spring is here! The Equinox has brought us beautiful warm days here in the UK, but we are already in a state of drought so Mother Nature gives with one hand and takes away with the other. There's always balance whether we like it or not.

A Pause for Punctuation


I know The Prediction Challenge is a bit of fun but I've noticed the state of punctuation has been slipping in some Prediction entries over the last couple of months. Can I please send out a request to do a final proofread before you submit.

Check your apostrophes, make sure you put a full stop (period) before you start a new sentence. Where you do start a new sentence, the first word should have a capital letter. Indeed, capitals are one of my main niggles; they seem to be sneaking in on nouns mid-sentence. Why is that? Please check for this too.

The majority of you obviously do edit and proofread but I don't think it's unreasonable for me to request the best from everyone. After all, punctuation slips are often enough to get a submission for publication rejected by editors - regardless of the voice or the power of a story.

Thank you.

Winner of Last Week's Prediction Challenge


The winner is a writer, rather than a single story - it has to be John Xero! Three outstanding pieces, each of which thrilled and shocked and were exquisitely-written - truly. John - why isn't TOR or a similar imprint grabbing you? Your writing is crying out for the big time. Congratulations on winning the little Prediction trophy (there's a drop of bubbly in there if you look deep enough.)

Runner-up, with a tale and a character that still chills me - Marietta Miles' untitled piece. Well done Marietta - Pastor Friend needs to be locked up, but not before you've imprisoned him in a full-length thriller for us (please).

Words for 23 March 2012


  • Monday
  • Notch
  • Speed
Quick - what comes to mind?

Rules

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 until 9pm UK time on Thursday 29th March 2012 to enter.

The winner will be announced on Friday 30th March. If you can, please tweet about your entry, using the #fridayflash hashtag, and blog if you feel like it. Do give feedback to your fellow Predictioneers - we all appreciate it.

I sense a shift in theme this week; where are you going to run to?
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128 comments:

  1. Triple round of applause to John for a veritable and lusciously-described feast, to Marietta for sheer nastiness and to you Lily for not making me wait too long for next week's words ... my imagination is up and running

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  2. First and foremost a thanks to Mrs. Lily. I love to be edited and guided. I lived a long time with no guidance and it was a real bastard. So I say yay to all the help I can get. I must say Mrs. Antonia's words were helpful as well. I actually found five words I felt needed to be taken out of my entry after reading her remarks. I would love to get an entire story into fifty words. Yay.

    Onward...big congrats John Xero or should I say Big John. You are incredibly talented and I hope that you can ride the wave to the big time soon. Guardian was tremendous. I hope you don't mind if I file it next to "Ender's Game". Such good writing.

    Lastly, I do not want to brag but here in the southern U.S. cherry blossoms, dogwoods and red twigs have been blooming all week. The air is filled with hot pink, white and pastel petals. The breeze is scented with flowers. This earth is perfection.

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  3. Oh Lily I almost forgot...I did notice that you remembered my struggle with titles. Thanks for knowing your minions so well.

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  4. Congratulations to John and Marietta. Well deserved.

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  5. Wow, thank you, Lily, and everyone. The Friday Prediction has honestly been a great drive for me as a writer, with the tight deadline, word count, and competition. There were some really stunning entries last week and it's an honour to be picked out from amongst them.

    And congratulations, Marietta. Will we see any more of dark Pastor Friend?

    Now... let's see what spell these new words fit, and what beasts they conjure from the pit... ;)

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    Replies
    1. Oh dear, just spotted a capital where there shouldn't be one. Scared to look further... shan't sleep tonight for fear of winged monkeys scratching at my bedroom window

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  6. Sweet Memory Will Die

    It shouldn’t happen on a Monday, I Witnessed. She flew through the air, a ragdoll hitting the tarmac, bones snapping like twigs. Blood pooled on the white line. I saw his face in the neon glare. Laughing, drunk he sped away.

    She was eight, full of giggles. I stood in shadow, watched her world end.

    I sit gripping the length of my walking stick. The blood and gristle wiped away, a notch carved. The police will come. I made the call. Told them I knew where he lived. Soon they will visit me. I will tell them speed kills.

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    Replies
    1. Ow - that 'She was eight, full of giggles' really hits it home.

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    2. Congratulations to Marietta and John! Brilliant and dark... just the way I like!

      I agree with what John said... Friday Predictions has been great for my writing... firm deadlines and such a tight word count. 100 word limit is challenging and oh, rewarding.

      Busy weekend... got my bags packed for that big old jet plane... could take me a while to read and comment everyone's dark little slices!

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    3. Oops! Sorry, Shaun... try this again...

      Sweet Memory Will die is chilling and heart-wrenching... I've got goosebumpies again.

      One wonders... how many notches on that walking stick... how many terrible scenes this 'giver of justice' has witnessed?

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    4. The sad thing is the reality of this piece. How many drivers get behind the wheel of a car for convenience when they've had a few beers? Good work sir.

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    5. SK, "The blood and gristle wiped away / Notch carved" line makes this a rather unreliable narrator. I like that.

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    6. Oh that was dark, and horrible, yet intriguing all at the same time.

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    7. I wonder on the relationship between narrator and driver, and child. Painful piece made all the more so by, as Phil says, the edge of realism.

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    8. This one breaks my heart. Very atmospheric, like the first shot of the priest in The Exorcist as he approaches the home of Reagan and her mother to begin the rites of exorcism.I wonder if the man with the cane is the grim reaper? Well done.

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    9. This still leaves me chilled Shaun, and I first read it when you originally submitted it. It's probably because my own daughter is eight. A very powerful write, with a massive impact.

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  7. Part 4 of 'The blacksmith's wife' is still cooking, but in the meantime
    The blacksmith broods
    And were you a Monday child? Fair of face? A situation I could change.
    For I was born a Saturday and have always known that I would work forever.
    But I looked to you as my reward, lifetime partner, mother of my children, woman of my heart.
    Something more than just another notch upon the stable post.
    But since you betrayed me with a Tuesday stripling, limbs like willows, eyes of speedwell blue,
    I am undone.
    Too aware of my silent seriousness, of something less than light. And too proud to allow you to remain so temptingly fair of face.

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    1. Lots of menace running through this Sandra. Yet it's not just the implicit threats of violence, it's the possessive nature of the character, seeing his wife as a trophy earned; "I looked to you as my reward".

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    2. Scary stuff Sandra, the physical threats and mental torture are chilling.

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    3. Sandra, intriguing and beautiful details in the stable post and limbs like willows. The voice breaths as a wondrous thing.

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    4. I agree with the others, lots of menace going through this, and that undertone of jealousy. Very well written.

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    5. Fantastic piece. And having done the trilogy you had to do the prequel, of course... ;)
      Love the description of Tuesday's stripling.

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    6. "limbs like willows, eyes of speedwell blue" - such poetic description; the words of a man at one with the elements of nature. His adoration is dangerous, his possession moreso. That final line hints he will soon hurt his wife whatever. Brilliant.

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  8. Congrats John - you always write so well; great to see you notching up a win here. And well done Marietta with runner's up. :-)

    My offering is below and it is itching to become a longer piece so might see what I can do with it outside of the Feardom. Enjoy.

    Wrong

    Samuel lay with his arms behind his head, staring at the dog-eared calendar on his cell wall. Red pen encircled Monday 23 June.

    He heard Father Lafferty's rhythmical footsteps approaching him. It was comforting to have someone to talk to in his final hours.

    The priest accompanied him to the chamber, praying for his soul as the guards seated him.

    They secured the notches of the restraints with the speed of familiarity; tugging the last one agonisingly tight as Samuel prayed for a last minute reprieve.

    The silence deafened him.

    His dying wish was that they find the real killer.

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    Replies
    1. Definitely more to come here ... and more than a bit of back story too?

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    2. I think so. At the moment just about works as a 100 word piece but it's like a learner driver; all stop start in its flow.

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    3. A truly horrible situation to be in I would vow to come back and get my revenge. ;)

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    4. Phil, Interesting places for this to go. Either a reprieve, the reliving of the deed, or horror/fantasy dealing with revenge and righting wrongs. Everyone deserves justice.

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    5. Phil there is an undertone of sadness here, the hint that he is being punished for something he didn't do. Through that sadness comes the reality of the horror of the situation.

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    6. I expected a grisly twist, I didn't expect that. You say it's a bit stop start, but I think it works well like that. Snapshots of final moments. And the last line is excellent.

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    7. One of my worst fears. An innocent man trapped in the most awful of circumstances.

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    8. Very clever how your casual tone descends into fear with the reality of the situation and an unhappy acceptance of what is to come. To me there is the intrigue that perhaps he knows who that real killer is? Very moving - do please expand on this.

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  9. Well done John, and to Marietta too.

    It's no use, Hackett wanted the limelight again...

    Ensemble

    Human figures, drizzled by a darkened glaze; set solid, posed, stripped of sentiment. And flesh.

    Hackett’s own private gallery remained equally silent in the sunlight and shadows, alone in death.

    He worked with speed - he’d had her since Monday, scoring her skin with distorted patterns, watching her dermis peel as it dried out. Then she would bloat and open up, ready to reveal her innards in slow unfolding, visceral beauty.

    The dead, cold gallery watched.

    He placed a deep notch around her face so that she would eventually shed her features.

    And then he waited for her to die.

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    1. 'drizzled by a darkened glaze' - that's put the kibosh on those fancy restaurant menus, hasn't it? And what a sick kick to the stomach at the end. Exquisite horror!

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    2. Hackett is chilling as ever; the Hannibal Lecter of the Feardom. The image of the drying skin peeling back is horrific but worsens when you realise this is a slow, drawn out process over many days.

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    3. Oh what a perfectly cruel twist at the end. So macabre.

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    4. AJ, the bloating captures the horror of Hackett in a new and vivid way that captures this character perfectly.

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    5. This was chilling, gruesome.

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    6. Hackett always finds some new way to work the canvas... There's a grotesque kind of leaf-like effect I picture with the curling, drying skin, leaving her innards to bloom like a night flower...

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    7. All I can say is eek. This is a haunting thought. I am so tortured for his poor victim.

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    8. Hackett's living gallery is a place of morbid dread; I visualise him slowly wandering its corridors, admiring his work, maybe making a slight adjustment here... and another there. AJ, he is so wicked - why is it we can't wait for more? Glorious.

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  10. Congratulations to Marietta and John! Brilliant and dark... just the way I like!

    I agree with what John said... Friday Predictions has been great for my writing... firm deadlines and such a tight word count. 100 word limit is challenging and oh, rewarding.

    Busy weekend... got my bags packed for that big old jet plane... could take me a while to read and comment everyone's dark little slices!

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  11. I do try to mind my periods and commas. Sometimes though, in a poem... I don't end a line with punctuation; it doesn't feel right. That probably makes no sense; maybe I am just trying to find some 'style'... ?

    In some of my stories, I do end sentences with...
    I do that for effect... a pause, not an end, I want those last words to linger...

    :)

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  12. 'Tis done:

    The blacksmith's wife [part 4]
    ‘Would you brand the mother of your son?’
    A downward stridulation as he slotted irons into the notched retainer, lettered ends rammed into the fiery heart.
    ‘When did you last bleed?’
    ‘Eight sennights ago last Monday.’
    Another four screeched into place.
    ‘Sweetling, you lie.’
    Smiling malevolence, an upward wrench, iron against steel. The speed with which he turned and crossed the hard earth floor surprised me and despite intent I flinched at the first touch upon my spine.
    His fingertip.
    ‘False alarm,’ stubble-breathed against my neck. ‘As was your claim, evidenced by the blood now running down between your legs.’

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    Replies
    1. I almost jumped reading this as the first touch came and was then more disturbed that it was his fingertip. Top writing.

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    2. I agree with Phil,this is seething with violence and so well written.

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    3. Sandra, you've packed this tight with words and dozens of things hinted at with sufficient grace to make this feel like so much more than 100 words; great details and the plot is intriguing.

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    4. Yes there is a lot of violent tension in this piece.

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    5. Definitely left feeling very tense at the end. Dark writing, Sandra. Very good.

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    6. Her strength and fire make her so charismatic. I get the feeling her hubby will be very sorry soon.

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    7. Sandra, this continues to wrack my soul with the dark energy ebbing and flowing between husband and wife. One can't help but feel if they only put this much effort into their relationship maybe it would have worked out! The bleeding adds a horrible new dimension to the lies. Love it.

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  13. Cupid's Arrow

    The notch brings forth. God's fingers withhold, bowstrings anticipating, firmament shreds coalescing, consciousness vibrating, until the release, big bang's speed.

    Monday must find a mate. She dances time's shaft. Feet slip passing Satyraeacea. She remembers previous flights, his pelvis thrusting. But he's found a nymph this lifetime. She cannot mourn. She dances past.

    The erotes face is new. How can that be? Perhaps, it is the blemish. Undecided, she seeks alternatives, but only he remains unpaired. She takes his hand, places it on her stomach, pulls it downward.

    “Wait.”

    “No time.”

    Arrow slams into target. His flesh pierces Monday. Rebirth.

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    1. There's something golden about this, golden and glinting ... and so very satisfactory.

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    2. This is on a different level, had to read it more than once. Intimacy on a cosmic scale. I think Sandra has the right word in golden.

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    3. This is up to your usual high standard of writing Aidan- this takes reading at least a couple of times to get the full impact, of such great writing.

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    4. Nice, Aidan! =)
      As S.K. says, there's a cosmic scale to this, but at the same time, I think, a primal urgency, a need.

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    5. Absolute beauty...gorgeous and tactile.

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    6. So good to have you back in The Feardom's folds, Aidan. I am in love with the astonishing mythology you've created here, and with its flirtatious and fecund beckoning. This is like no Monday I've ever encountered - beautiful.

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  14. Alfred M. Taitague Jr24 March 2012 at 23:06

    I apologize for the delay, but three weeks is long enough to go without proper introductions. My name is Al Taitague Jr, and I am basically blind. Therefore, I truly appreciate any and all assistance in helping me catch any of my mistakes both stylistically and grammatically. My screen reading software does not always cooperate with my Office 2010 word processor. Not to mention having to try and recall where I left off in my tale should my screen reader abruptly stop speaking, and while I’m at it, whoever invented the “captcha” process deserves a special place in Hades. Anyway, my fowl-tempered daughter Muckie Duckie Taitague(just kidding sweetie. Don’t “quack-up” over this) helps me by inputting my entries. I would love to remark on the superb tales that have been told to date if it were not for the captcha and not wanting to over burden my awesome baby girl. I have sent Lily an inquiry on whether there is a way to comment without going through the captcha process, but my request may have gone the route of the Twilight Zone, or there is no way around the captcha. I could comment to each of you personally via e-mail once I’ve become more well known among you, but should any wish to contact me before then, please feel free to do so via jr.taitague@sbcglobal.net.

    Regards,

    Alfred Taitague Jr.


    "Preternatural Choices"

    “Hero, it’s time to go!” yelled Kristan for the nth time as she watched her ten-year-old speed past her on his favorite police-car carousel vehicle. It was their after-school Monday ritual and she hated it.

    “Notch up another police academy recruit” said the joker-faced park character.

    Kristan, startled, felt goose-bumps prickle her flesh upon gazing into the steel-blue eyes behind the stranger’s mask.

    “Despite all my efforts he’s his father’s son” replied Kristan.

    “Looks like him too”

    “Wha What?” she stammered, goose-fleshed all over as she stared wide-eyed at the empty spot where the stranger had just been.

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    1. Alfred, people who know too much can be particularly freaky.

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    2. Creepy story Alfred! By the way I had to laugh out loud about this comment you made " whoever invented the “captcha” process deserves a special place in Hades." I loath the captcha, and some of my friends have removed theirs from their blogs on my request. ^_^

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    3. There's such a lot going on here, an excellent change of focus and a very subtle threat.

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    4. Hello Alfred, I've a feeling Hero might become a regular, I hope so. Something sinister is unfolding in your stories.

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    5. Not sure if it's your intent, Alfred, but I can feel a dark momentum in the repetition of these characters. I, too, hope they return and build on the feeling.

      Masks and undue knowledge and vanishing from plain sight, three ever-creepy elements you've managed to work in.

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    6. Al, I do apologise for not yet replying to your email/form. Time is not my own at the moment and my To Do list is stretching to the other end of the street - and that's before I even go to work each day and attempt to have a family life!

      I fully appreciate how irritating Captcha is; even without visual impairment it often requires several refreshes before it can be 'read'. Unfortunately one of our contributors experienced some horrible 'troll' attacks a couple of years ago and allowing Captcha mitigated this in some small way. I'll try to investigate whether there is any way around this, or if I can filter comments from certain users. In the meantime, we're really enjoying your contributions - thank you!

      However, that old devil called 'time' has called time on me for tonight (nine hours of comparing spreadsheets of thousands of entries each and my eyes are screaming) so I'll continue my commenting on your and others' tales tomorrow evening.

      All the best.

      Lily.

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    7. Preternatural Choices is a great title, Al. This a chilling scenario that confuses me a little but I am intrigued by the characters and settings and wonder how it will develop.

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  15. Alfred M. Taitague Jr25 March 2012 at 04:53

    Pernicious Petals

    The drone of thousands of beating wings reached a crescendo upon the completion of our sister’s “location” dance. The Mother would be pleased for the sister had found a rich food supply nearby that would ease our collective needs.

    We sped along; the location a bog guarded by a notched and dead tree. My sisters and I divided the white flowering rosettes among us, and went to work. More industrious than any Monday-morning assembly line crew.

    “Danger!” thrummed a distant sister.

    “Dan-” began another.

    Distress calls thrummed all around; I sensed nothing before the deadly embrace of the Venus’ Flytrap.

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    1. Yay. Love this story. Nature's power is more frightening than all else...even on a bee sized scale. Once again...yay.

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    2. What evocative words are 'pernicious' and especially 'thrummed', and the Venus fly trap is a nightmare in itself.

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    3. Oh this was great, sometimes there is nothing more frightening than nature itself.

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    4. I have to agree, I like this different perspective.

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    5. Clever play on the subject, Alfred, and working a bee-scale horror into the twist too. Nice one. =)

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    6. Oh, how beautiful. Pernicious Petals is a sensorial delight. I love how the 'sisters' are flying creatures - I hear them, see them. The deadly destination is a disaster, so sad. Really enjoyed this.

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  16. Normal

    Claire was dizzy. She viewed the bright, buzzing school cafeteria then turned her stare to friends. She mindlessly carved a notch in the table with her fork. Weekends were hard for outcasts. Townies manhandled Virgil at the game. Home life was bleak and violent, evidenced by Evie’s weary face. Monday felt like drowning.

    "Speed up guys. Go.” Claire whispered to her confused and abused friends. Her lips were tight and deliberate.

    “I think I might die today.” She blinked and frowned.

    Claire reached into her school bag, held cold metal. She hoped this was how it felt to be normal.

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    1. Superbly depicted ... the whole scene subtle but all there, and eminently credible.

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    2. One could feel the tension in that room.

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    3. Subtle, topical and downright frightening.

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    4. What a scattered mind, Marietta. And an ending that leaves a heavy anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Painful, great writing.

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    5. Marietta, tragic in the way that you know what's going to happen is so wrong and poignant in that one understands.

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    6. "Monday felt like drowning." broke my heart Marietta. These abstract statements and the staccato narration brilliantly echo the voice of a girl on the very edge. That she will fall taking others with her is agonising. Powerful penning indeed.

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  17. Alfred M. Taitague Jr25 March 2012 at 23:07

    The Suspect

    Amber took a deep calming breath. “Bring him in.”

    Grim faced, I sped outside and returned with our mastermind.

    “What’s the code? It’ll go better for you if you tell me!”

    The suspect, notching his belt tight, stared back unresponsive.

    Playing good cop to her bad, I said “Thirsty? Tell us the code and you’ll get a drink.”

    “I dunno nothing.”

    “Get him out of here!” she threw her hands up in frustration.

    “Who’s next?”

    “The weakest; the girl.”

    Monday one of our kids changed the parental-lock code, and Amber only needed to break one of them to learn who.

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    1. This one made me laugh. I've been the tech support person on the phone with parents who wanted to set or re-set the parental control after something like this has happened.

      It's not just you that can't read that word verification. I'm not blind and I struggle with it. I don't often comment on sites that use it.

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    2. I got a laugh out of this too, Alfred. Nice tension building, and then clever deflation with the punchline.

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    3. Definitely had me fooled. Nice work.

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    4. That suspect sure had it coming, Al. There'll be another tomorrow no doubt.

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  18. sorry for delay, been in my sick bed for three long weary days feeling like nothing on earth with a particularly virulent stomach bug which is sweeping the island. The problem is...I have a sensitive stomach which had been kicking off for a week before the bug hit me so I went down hard.
    Trying to catch up but not able to sit at the computer for long, forgive lack of comments this time.
    Great stories, congratulations John and Marietta, now to go ponder on these words while I continue this slow recovery.

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    1. Hope you're feeling better Antonia,

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    2. Antonia... poor you. I do hope you are feeling better - sending healing vibes across the Solent ~ ~ ~

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  19. They call him Mister Manic Monday. He picked up the office new hires on their first day. Put a notch in his bedpost and came to work on Tuesday without knowing so much as her name. I guess that was his idea of speed dating.

    The police came to the office, asking questions. Apparently one of the new hires was slightly psychotic and didn’t take well to being dumped. Mister Manic Monday was never going to see Tuesday, that week or any other week.

    How sad and ironic; that was the day I actually learned his real name.

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    1. I like the connection of speed to dating.

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    2. There is a manic, frantic feel to this, Laura, like Mister Manic Monday's love life. As was... ;)

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    3. Laura, beautiful rhythm. This has a great morbid humor to it.

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    4. I dunno what's the world coming to if you can't do some whittling with out causing upset. :-)

      Nice story Laura

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    5. Laura - so what was his name? I pity the poor psychotic, she'll be blamed for dispensing of such a man-slut. I enjoyed this.

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  20. Firstly can I take this opportunity to thank everybody for their kind words and feedback for my previous few posts, it’s very much appreciated.

    It took me a while to get the feel for this week words, fingers crossed it fits.

    Bedroom

    The speed at which wakefulness reaches from his brain to his being is instantaneous, the alarm clock screams at him

    MONDAY!! MONDAY!!MONDAY!!

    His stomach roils and the familiar white hot ball of apprehension springs to life.

    Bathroom

    He wipes the condensation from the mirror and stares at the reflection, the stranger, the impostor of his hopes and dreams.

    The shell of a man he has become.

    Door

    The key rotates slowly in the lock and the door opens to reveal the implacable enemy.

    He breathes sharply and steels himself.

    Another notch on the calendar, another day started.

    Congratulations.

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    1. The horror of dailyness, of seemingly endless repetition and its power to reduce us to less than nothing - well described here.

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    2. Agoraphobia? I like the step-by-step structure of this with the stages of

      Bathroom

      and then moving to

      Door

      as he breaks the insurmountable task of the WHOLE DAY into small manageable chunks. Really well done.

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    3. This captures his fear in a fun way. It has a nice sense of hope at the end if your the half-full outlook, or hellishness if your the half-empty outlook (all those future monday's waiting to gang up on us).

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    4. I like this anxiety ridden piece Nick. Clever work.

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    5. Nick, I feel really proud of your MC. Despite the almighty fears weighing heavy on his shoulders, he did it - he took that step, he faced Monday - and won. Great writing.

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  21. Congratulations John, well deserved and also to the runner up!

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  22. My entry for this week's challenge:

    All in a week’s work.

    She cranked the speed up another notch, laughing as the wind raced through her long red hair. She glanced over at him sitting rigid next to her.

    “Relax darling,” she crooned through her ruby lips.”It’s only Monday, we have all week to play.”

    Her foot pressed harder on the throttle; the engine roared and the countryside became a blur as they flew by. He was hers now, nothing could change that. She smiled at the terror in his eyes.

    “Don’t struggle so,” she purred. “Wait till you see what I have planned for you.”

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    1. And will you tell us all about it next week?

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    2. Oh, nicely done Helen. Smooth changing of gears from the adrenalin junkie to the kidnapping femme fatale. I really like this. =)

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    3. Great visuals & action in store here that is roaring to go. Gotta like her and I hope she has lots of fun this week. Poor guy.

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    4. Phew! Not for the feint of heart. Hope there is more Helen.

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    5. Helen - she baaaaaddddd! What a seduction, unrequited as it is. I was awaiting an Isadora Duncan scarf moment but she drove right on through. What will she do with her prey, I wonder?

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  23. And after last week's creative splurge I struggled with this week's words, so...


    #criminal


    @lawless: Looking to take the game up a notch. Police are clueless. Need a challenge. #mondaynightcrime

    @urbandad: @lawless You’ll get caught. #mondaynightcrime #dontdoit

    @lawless: @urbandad challenge accepted. #mondaynightcrime

    @urbandad: @lawless What? Don’t be ridiculous. #mondaynightcrime #growup

    @lawless: @urbandad You geotagged your photos. See you soon. #mondaynightcrime

    @speedqueen: Call the police @urbandad. Just in case. #mondaynightcrime

    @urbandad: Good advice @speedqueen. Too late. #guesswho #mondaynightcrime

    @lawless: Followers! Fans! #mondaynightcrime now #mondaynightmurder. ;)

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    1. Huh... the long #hashtags combined with Blogger's justified paragraphs has done horrible things to the spacing... =/

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    2. Horrible spacing regardless, this is clever and, stupidly, I found myself wanting to hammer out the chorus while driving through the dark ...

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    3. Inventive! The p0wned is particularly good along with the way "good" things have a tendency of escalating.

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    4. A great concept for fiction though I was quite freaked by this John. It made me think of the 2011 London (and elsewhere) riots. Twitter's a wonderful thing but - like the internet as a whole - it feeds lowlife.

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    5. Twitter is a strange beast. I am never quite sure who is saying what. As Lily says, an interesting concept John

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  24. Very clever and well done. A little chilling to think how easy it is to organise something #yougotmescared ^_^

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  25. Apologies for my lack of "participation" the past couple of weeks. Busy, busy, busy!!

    Time.

    Where has the week gone? The speed in which time is passing us by is really quite unbelievable — Mondays soon becomes Saturdays now. I wonder if that’s the same for children or, as I remember, the days still drag until it becomes the weekend again.

    It seems the older you get, when you notch up another year and the less time you have on this beautiful planet, time passes by at a rate of knots.

    Well, onward, I say, live your life to the full because there’s more enjoyment to come.....in our next one.

    ~End~

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    1. I'll concentrate on this one for now, David.

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    2. David, I echo your every word. Very well said.

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    3. Lily, it was a real rush job and the way I was feeling this morning. There's no point worrying about anything at all!

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    4. Ah David, somebody is playing a cruel joke on us when it comes to time.

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  26. OK, I found this one strangely tough. But here goes.

    Looking Back from the Edge

    I can see them bustle through their Monday morning commute, the hurried walks, cars stacked in their lanes, so much speed and so little movement. All those lives, fat and complacent, pitying themselves over missed deadlines, small slights, offhand words, the tiny fears of a numb, stultifying existence.

    But I know true life, true existence. The great highs and deep lows of life a notch above that which I can see spread out across the city. A life truly led only at the sharpened edge of mortality.

    A life I will share with them, one at a time.

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    1. Matt, I like the narrator's detached view. "so much speed and so little movement" truly resonates. The speaker could be so many things: a ghost, God, murderer, revenant, vampire... or a human being that has turned their life around for the better(?)

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    2. Matt, this begs to be expanded upon, an excellent introduction, I wanted to read more.

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  27. It's slow and easy and unthreatening, until that penultimate sentence. And even then you might not see it coming. Nice.

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  28. Just getting this in in time...

    WYRD WORDS

    Sphagnum moss soaks it up well enough. I learned that from the sisters three who taught me how to offer my essences to fair Hawthorn; the Goddess resides there for a single day after her gibbous reflection bares full across the skies.

    “Cut a notch,” they’d whispered. “But beware Mondays when our Lady’s spines seep, for she will take more than you can give.”

    My own cycle wanes and I fear cronehood speeding forth. It won’t be long until my body can no longer willingly provide what she needs. When that day comes, submit to her thorns I shall.

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    1. One for the wiccan wanderers, bound to make good christian men cringe Lily. :-)

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  29. Memo to self: 'sphagnum' is a brilliant creepy word, memo to Lily, please avoid such ringingly echoing phrases such as "My own cycle wanes and I fear cronehood speeding forth" - it will echo in my head far too frequently. I see this in green and gold.

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  30. OUT OUT OUT!!! No more, I'm banging the big door shut - oof, it's heavy.

    Please note, I will not be posting tomorrow's results and new words until tomorrow evening. Sorry folks, but there's things to do in them thar hills from early tomorrow.

    Right, back to commenting...

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  31. thank you for the good wishes and thoughts! I have missed you all terribly this week, missed creating my entry but I have not been capable of anything much. Recovery is slow, not helped by people saying 'it takes longer when you get old' - I know! and I don't like it! I read your stories, Predictioneers, loved them but no energy to sit and comment. Next week I promise I will be better!!!

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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.