A friend and fellow Predictioneer has cleared a space in the vast attic of his mind - and will be taking on the Prediction from Friday 18th May. Who is it? IT'S PHIL AMBLER!! Huge round of applause!
Thank you so much Phil for this generous offer; I'm sure I won't be the only one rushing to your domain to join the rest of our community in the continued search for inspiring words to be challenged by. (Pretty sure that was terrible English, but I'm too excited.)
So, put it in your diaries folks - 18th May - over at Phil's place http://phlambler.blogspot.co.uk where he'll look after you behind a new set of doors.
Winner of Last Week's Prediction Challenge
I am giving a concentrated award this week - the winner will have to water it down - and that's because it's an acclaim for one writer, with two stunning stories. So congratulations Sandra Davies for the ongoing saga of The Blacksmith's Wife - parts 8 and 9. I hope the BBC is reading - it needs this.
No runner-up I'm afraid - they were so good I truly couldn't choose between them, so a mutual back-patting is in order. Well done everybody!
Words for 27 April 2012 (my wedding anniversary, I'll have you know)
The old tome isn't going to last much longer so will probably sigh when I put it down for the last time, but let me just - oof - pick it up and spread its pages. Here we go...
- Backyard
- Tartan
- Prowl
Something springs straight 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 3rd May 2012 to enter.
The winner will be announced on Friday 4th May. 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.
A rush and a push and a... gotya! I can see the words forming inside your brains - birth them; I'm ready...
The winner will be announced on Friday 4th May. 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.
A rush and a push and a... gotya! I can see the words forming inside your brains - birth them; I'm ready...
___________________________________
Huge thanks, yet again Lily, for the award - I truly am delighted and humbled because the standard here is so very high ... as for next week's words, I feel a mega-cheat coming on to get over the sore-thumb of 'tartan' for which I hope I'll be forgiven ...
ReplyDeleteAND, of course, thanks to Phil for the rescue operation - I'm hot-footing it over there right now.
A well deserved win Sandra, congratulations.It is also very good to know that The Friday Prediction will live on over at Phil's blog.
Deletefantastic news, thanks, Phil! Where would we be without our weekly fix????
ReplyDeleteMany many congratulations, Sandra.
Now let me see if I can play this time...
great stuff Phil!
ReplyDeleteI really need to back into this, once work/life balance failures stop kicking my ass :(
Hey - afternoon off, and I'm in for the kill!
ReplyDeleteBlàr Chùil Lodair
She could yowl in my face; scratch my eyes out with her filthy talons. It would make no difference – I know she isn’t The Panther of Culloden Moor and is certainly no 21st century banshee.
Bad blood transcends time; her clan and mine still bear a battle grudge.
I’m watching her now, prowling around my backyard with a scowl on those black-painted lips. Every few minutes she stops to hiss – I’m supposed to be scared. I’ll show her what it means to be scared.
Lights off.
Gun out.
I’ll wipe that pale tartan heart from her demented soul.
This takes "clan" warfare to a whole new level. I like that you've played with the expectations a bit - what creature is she anyway?
Delete*also* I swear I hadn't got all the way through yours before penning mine - apologies for some of the duped details!!
Not sure she's any more of a creature than a brain-washed teenager, Chris! No worries about cross-overs - great minds and all that :-)
DeleteHmmm! I'll be sure not to move in next door to you. Well done. :0)
DeleteLily! I totally missed the key point in your post... Slainte on the celebration of nuptial bliss!!! Slainte big time!
DeleteHope you had a great wedding anniversary Lily :-)
DeleteAt first I was scared for the narrator now I'm not sure our black-lipped trespasser is going to survive the night! Blood feuds never end well. Nicely told.
I hope your wedding anniversary was awesome, Lily! :-) <3
DeleteWicked one here... I like that! :)
A blood feud is one that the 'fires' of time cannot touch... methinks the black-lipped wench will soon have something to truly hiss about!
Very well done, Lily! :)
great story, Lily! Just think, if you're not hosting the Prediction, you are in with a chance of winning!!
DeleteVery cool, Lily. Modern day violence couched in horror's dark insinuations. =)
DeletePicture perfect view of what might happen if what we feel inside showed itself on the outside. Thank you for a great bite.
DeleteThis amused me no end Lily. I loved the imagery.
DeleteAll this and Gaelic too! 'Bad blood transcends time' - an excuse for any and every sort of mayhem.
ReplyDelete(previous post contained typos - sorry)
Spy vs. Spy
ReplyDeleteMarcus is a brilliant bastard. That’s why I’m going to destroy him.
Getting the secrets to the new bio-weapon he’s been working on was ridiculously simple. A quick prowl through the backyard, a jimmied window, and his diary was mine.
The book-smart idiot should’ve had it locked up at the lab anyway.
My door’s ajar when I arrive back home. Not good. In an instant, I’ve drawn my automatic.
Click. Lights on. Too late, I see the chameleon on the table, inching toward the tin of lizard chow – in the middle of a tartan tablecloth.
Marcus, you sick, brilliant…
*Boom.*
Methinks the narrator should get his own fixings... erm, fixed. I'd love to see a chameleon (Marcus?) on a tartan tablecloth. Boom indeed. Lovely wordplay.
DeleteA tartan chameleon - brilliant indeed. Like the staccato resignation too.
DeleteNow that's clever Chris. The ultimate camouflage allows Marcus to keep his precious diary safe. Very clever indeed.
DeleteBrilliant wordplay... that last line made me jump!
DeleteA tartan chameleon? Now that I would pay to see!
clever and very well done!
DeleteHeh, all a bit too much for the poor chameleon? ;)
DeleteExcellent. Quick and exciting...argh the poor chameleon.
DeleteNice work Chris. Intriguing,I hope there will be more.
DeleteThe blacksmith's wife [part 10]
ReplyDelete‘Forgive? Cuckoldry or your chilling callousness?’
Inscrutable, he slashed the bonds which held me to the post, pushed me with such force that protruding nails scored instant bloody messages across my breast, tartan-patterning the soot which striped me. Numb-limbed I tumbled to the floor: he prowled around me, studying my face.
‘I know not whether you meant to save yourself or lied, intent on warning. We’ll waste no time deciding …’ and he pulled me to my feet, thrust me before him into the backyard and thence onto his horse, mounting behind me, one hand still clutching the castrating shears.
Not sure if that was your 'mega-cheat' of tartan but I think it's a great descriptor and works really well.
DeleteSo, the chase is on for the lad. I'm crossing my legs just reading this ;-)
Ahh... seems that wife has outsmarted herself? This certainly does not bode well or lass or lad!
DeleteWonderfully written, Sandra! I love the line...
"...protruding nails scored instant bloody messages across my breast..."
Salacious imagery!
No Phil, 'mega-cheat' was along the lines of 'tar-tanned barrel' or some such, the protruding nail (thank you Veronica) rescued me from that.
Deleteso much going on in this story! Fantastic!
DeleteThe tension builds! Great stuff. =)
DeletePresumably you'll be continuing this with the move to Phil's?
Lots of great images, very exciting, completely wrapped in our friend and her future
DeleteNow that is a superb use of 'tartan' Sandra. I could visualise it immediately.
DeleteCuckoldry, callousness and castration makes for a terrifying cocktail - what WILL they do to each other next? I'm so excited.
I can't think of two more chilling words than "castrating shears".
DeleteThis is a gripping series, Sandra!
This just keeps getting stronger week on week Sandra. :-)
DeleteNew Pastures
ReplyDelete“We suspected the experiment had gone astray when the nanobot prowl returned empty-handed. However, planet 35982 looks promising sir. The latest nanobot sweep reports little technological advancement. The next cull will be accomplished with minimum effort.
‘Don’t forget to save some native species for me Metho’.
“Don’t I always, Your Highness?”
Once cleared of native vegetation and excess moisture problems. We’ll be ready to install your new zoo in the backyard in plenty of time for the party”.
‘How far is it Metho?’
“It’s in Tartan sector sir; according to scans on the dominant species the inhabitants call it Earth.”
'Tartan sector' - clever, as is this whole piece, impressive in its veracity.
DeleteLike the twist at the end, I thought this was us in the future going out hunting; hadn't realised we were the prey!
DeleteOh... very cleverly written... I love the nanobots!
DeleteGreat twist at the end... the title fits like MJ's glove!
Well done, Carol!
it's not easy to create a twist in the tale story within 100 words, Carol, this is so well done!
DeleteSaw the twist coming but didn't enjoy it any the less. Great fun. =)
DeleteI wonder if we'll be one of the species saved for the zoo? =/
Wonderful sci fy bit. Now I need to know what is next
DeleteI'm sure all Scots would be proud that the sector including Earth is called Tartan, Carol - great idea. The 'excess moisture problems' amused me at a time where we are suffering both flooding and droughts at the exact same time in the UK. A great little flash.
DeleteI like the simple clarity of this story, and the ending is superb.
DeleteI liked this a lot Carol, reminded me of the one off short stories from the 200AD comics I read as a boy. very enjoyable.
DeleteCongratulations, Sandra! Well deserved... your Blacksmith Wife's tales are brilliant!
ReplyDeleteEver so grateful to you, Phil, for taking up the challenge of keeping this lot in line... haha! I'll be around later to check out the new digs... make sure the dungeon is properly damp and gloomy.... dark drapes all about... floorboards creaking properly... you do have those skeletons closeted, right? Can't wait to check out the attic! *wink*
Oh, what delicious words for this week!
I'll be back 'round later to read these early offerings.
Congratulations Sandra - the tale just gets better and better.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the words of support guys and feel glad to be able to provide a home (or is that a dungeon) for The Prediction. Going to keep things pretty much as Lily has been running things as it works so well. Bit more info here: http://phlambler.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/cat-is-out-of-bag.html. Now to play with this week's words whilst I can still have a chance of winning ;-)
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteAs the rains pour down outside I thought I'd have a play with the words. This is what sprang forth.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy!
Vigilantes
Bravery had been easy to come by in the comfort of their homes, looking out on their illuminated backyards. Here, in the oppressive darkness of the woods, fear reigned in their hearts.
There had been ten of them, eager to hunt the creature prowling their neighbourhood, bloodlust driving them. They'd set out armed with axes, machetes and scythes, whatever came to hand.
Just three survived, whimpering amongst the trees, the ground a tartan patchwork of intestines, guts and spleens.
A growl oscillated through the air, the beast's lips rippled over red, dripping fangs, and all they could do was pray.
Yikes, Phil, the rain's bad enough without adding wild beasts to it - love the 'tartan patchwork of intestines'
Delete"...the ground a tartan patchwork of intestines, guts and spleens. ..."
DeleteNow, this is how I like my horror... dark and visceral!
Love that last line... "all they could do was pray"
Sends shivers down me... I will be sleeping with the night light tonight! And Tina better not even think about getting up to go the bathroom in the middle of the night... no way!
Great tale, Phil... first rate! :)
rain and more rain, no wonder it came up in one of the entries!
DeleteGood one, Phil, I got drawn into this!
Nice slice of old school horror, Phil. As if there was any doubt the Prediction was in good hands. Fantastic tale. =)
DeleteSeriously scary Story...love monster frights.
DeleteI love the primal energies at play in Vigilantes Phil. There's nothing so enticing as a spurt of bloodlust, and this creature stole its potential destroyers of theirs with aplomb. Bloody lovely.
DeleteVigilantism is a bloody business, even when the baddy is so purely evil. Nicely done.
DeleteThat worked for me, loved the tartan patchwork. Messy and delightful. Curious about this creature now though.
DeleteHello Everyone,
ReplyDeleteCongratulations Sandra. Well done as always my dear. Great news regarding Phil accepting the lot of us. I will be back to comment on the excellent stories. Here is my go...
Howl
Covering frosty backyards, cutting thru tartan drapes the late fall moon rose to her highest state. Her glow was a motherly beacon for all subjects of questionable wants to begin their deadly prowl. Nan Cuthbert, 79 years and former teacher at Pocahontas Elementary, trolled the house with a responsible briskness. Her small hands cocked the Mossberg twelve gauge pump, her crocheted shawl draped to buffet any kick that came from use. Methodically she locked doors and barred windows. Next to her soft, sitting chair she placed her bible.
"Children," she sang out, "it is time...the wolves are at the door."
oh, lovely description and great last line!
DeleteIt's all in the detail, isn't it? Such a carefully-built picture, such a surprising end.
DeleteI love the way you build the scene here Marietta with such great description throughout. I get the sense that this isn't the first time the wolves have visited Nan Cuthbert and her brood.
DeleteThere's a fantastic feel to this, Marietta. The old lady, so like the old ladies we all know, with her drapes and her shall and yet, so unlike any old lady we've ever met, with the lockdown and the shotgun...
DeleteAnd the wolves...
Aw Marietta, she's a great character, this old woman. I'm not sure who's enjoying the battle most - her and the children (and I even question what they are) or the deadly prowlers. I'd like more of this, if you please.
DeleteThis is just a tiny slice of something larger - I can feel it. More please.
DeleteOh yes, definitely, more please Marietta
Delete"...a motherly beacon for all subjects of questionable wants to begin their deadly prowl..."
DeleteNow there's a line that chills me down to the bone! I'm telling myself the shotgun is for the wolves... please be for the wolves...
Great 'trailer', Marietta, to what promises to be an larger and exceptional story!
Just finished my little slice... a title won't come to me, so I am going to sleep on it and post tomorrow... I guess that would be later today seeing as how the West Coast is now in the witching hour. :)
ReplyDeleteso here I am, at work, seeing everything through the ring of flashing lights, when this comes to me...
ReplyDeleteSecrets
The bear with the tartan hat hid a secret. No one touched her bears; they were off limits, especially Him.
The idea came in the middle of watching The Backyardigans. Maybe the colourful figures triggered something in her mind. It mattered not, the idea was there and she made her plans.
Secrecy, caution, care. He was often on the prowl, she had to time her theft of the knife when she was sure he was out, not pretending to be out.
The deed was done, the bear hid the knife.
Ready for the next time Daddy came in her room.
Now that last line is hard hitting Antonia. Must have been hard to write.
DeleteOh the dark things that drive little girls to places they should never have to go. Sad, painful, packs a punch, Antonia.
DeleteI like the toughness in this girl, sounds like she may be one to reckon with latter in life...love the image of the bear as her protector
DeleteAntonia, this broke my heart. I've spent hours watching Backyardigans over the last eight years, and associating it with the horror of the father's abuse makes me so sad. I think the most telling line was "...sure he was out, not pretending to be out". Very disturbing.
DeleteI'm gutted, Antonia. The thought process of the child is so well done that the reveal left me kicked in the throat.
DeleteSo impressed by this Antonia. A child, a teddy bear, a knife, a daddy. Chilled me to the bone.
DeleteA gut-wrenching tale, Antonia... the last line took what little breath I had left away... the girl's deadly resolve to end the horrors being visited on her... the courage and strength she had to summon to break the cycle... to take that first step from victim to survivor.
DeleteThe thought you put into our minds at the end comes as a very nasty shock, especially as a leap from imagining a set of woolly, buttoned Backyardigans, happily playing ...
ReplyDeleteFamily holidays and illness (man flu) have meant that I haven't been as regular with my entries as I'd hoped, here this weeks entry
ReplyDeleteGrief
Grief stalks her constantly in these dark days it prowls through her heart like a hungry tiger threatening to consume her.
For the millionth time she thinks - why? Why my little girl.
But there are no answers, not for her.
She plunges her hand into her pocket. She can feel it there, the small lock of hair platted and tied off with the tartan ribbon. A tether to a little girl’s memory and a mother’s ever decreasing sanity.
The gun shot echoes around the backyard.
She takes her daughters hand ‘Hello baby girl mummy missed you so much’
Good to see you're back Nick. The end is sorrowful whilst tinged with joy but the piece that got me was the small lock of hair in her pocket. Nice piece.
DeleteIt's the small detail of the tartan ribbon that adds poignancy to this piece.
DeleteSo sad, Nick. But the twist here, strangely, is a happy one, I think. There is an after, and they are together, again.
DeleteThis one breaks my heart. A mother's love is a gift and at times a curse. Great great read.
Deletecoated in sadness with such delicate writing, too. Beautiful piece.
DeleteNick, I agree with Antonia; 'delicate' is what it is. The fear you built up wasn't allayed - for me it is "a mother’s ever decreasing sanity" that continues to play right through to the end. A very touching read.
DeleteI agree with the above - so gently executed, and yet all the more powerful for the quiet.
DeleteHeartbreaking Nick.
DeleteYour words are 'wrapped' with a poignancy that is heart-breaking... this touched something deep inside me, Nick.
DeleteThis week's words 'begged' for a little slice of my zombie "epic"... thank you, Lily!
ReplyDeleteUNDER A KILLING MOON
By Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw
~~**~~
Staring at the massive wooden door wouldn’t bring Ian back… Moira knew that. He’d gone up from the cellar over an hour ago… a loud thud… then silence.
A neighbor had rung up Moira… she’d seen someone on the prowl last night… staggering around her backyard… drunk on the moonlight.
A killing moon Eileen had said…
Pushing up the heavy door, Moira peered over the edge… Ian lay crumpled in sanguineous tartan… hellish creature holding his head… a wet, crunching sound.
Mouth glistening with gore… the pale, bloodied zombie hissed…
The door dropped with a crash… Moira began to pray.
~finis~
'wet crunching' and 'mouth glistening' ... I'll delay breakfast for a bit I think. Horribly vivid this, Veronica.
DeleteEek! That image of Ian being dined upon, his head wrenched from his body, will haunt me all day now as will the sound of the zombie's hiss. Great stuff.
DeleteI thought Ian was going to be the zombie! Nasty end, for Ian and the story. Great horror, Veronica. =)
DeletePray...then look for a seriously sharp object. Love zombie stories great job on a ghouls tale
DeleteAbsobloodydeliciouslyexquisite, if you don't mind me saying so Veronica Marie. I love that 'hellish creature' of yours and its munching noises. This is a film in my head, and I can't switch off. At least, not yet...
Delete"Sanguineous tartan" is possibly the best use of the prompt yet.
DeleteI agree with all the above, nice gruesome imagery. When will zombies learn to cook?
DeleteWow! I'm a bit overwhelmed at everyone's comments... thank you all so very much!
DeleteOh, Sandra... I do hope I didn't put you off breakfast too long.
Zombies do get a bit 'hissy' when one interrupts their meal, Phil! ;-)
I started to go that way, John... :)
Moira had best pray there is a sharp object in the basement, Marietta... zombies tend to be relentless in their pursuit!
You always have just the right words, Lily! Can I get you some popcorn, sweetie? *crunch... crunch... crunch...*
I'd just used 'sanguine' on my One Word Blog Day post, Chris, and remembered this variation. Sanguineous sounds wonderful rolling off the tongue!
Gourmand zombies, Shaun? *shudders* Now that is a gruesome thought! :)
I'll be back later to finish commenting on everyone's bits... and what delicious ones they are! :)
ReplyDeleteUh-oh... did anyone else just catch a whiff of innuendo in that last comment of mine?
ReplyDeleteI meant your words, people... your words!
Cor... this is a nasty lot! ;-)
innuendo? certainly not, Veronica!
DeleteLove the imagery in your entry this week, very very ghoulish and well done!
Thank you, Antonia! I think I might be starting to get the hang of this! :)
DeleteMorning, all. =)
ReplyDeleteTattered
He stands in my backyard, watching. His tartan is tattered and old, both the material and the plaid - no clan remembers that pattern these days.
Smeared, blue whorls still stain his skin, worn-out war paint. This warrior has forgotten the fight he fought, centuries ago. Now he just prowls my garden, lost.
He does not bother us. By daylight I can tend to the plants, relax, read. But with the stars he returns to his inscrutable vigil. The night is his.
His tartan is tattered and old, like his flesh, like his memories, like autumn clouds passing the moon.
Gorgeous, visual words here...This reminds me of my dad for a strange reason...hunters and soldiers haunted by nothing
DeleteWow John, this is simply gorgeous. I love the blue whorls, Pictish and tribe-like, and am desperately intrigued as to why this ancient warrior remains. I feel he is immortal - but whether that's corporeal or spiritual immortality I'm not sure. I wish I'd written Tattered. Damn.
DeleteI initially read this as the sad remembrance of a relative who's grappling with Alzheimer's, but reading again, the faded, forgotten tartan sticks with me. This is one of the cooler ghosts I've ever read.
DeleteHello John,
DeleteThis might put the dampeners on summer night barbecues in the back yard. Lost huh? Think I would see if I could help him find his way home.
Gorgeous words here, John... such wonderful imagery... I especially love the blue whorls.
DeleteA beautiful ghost story... haunting and poignant!
Well done!
Fantastic final sentence, so poetic. And the rest pretty good too. I really like it all, in fact.
ReplyDeleteimages, conjuring more than you are saying, John. Wonderful.
DeleteFirstly, apologies for not commenting on entries over the last few weeks, I have been extremely busy work wise, but also very busy family wise, particularly with a new addition to our family - a 5 month old boy (similar to an adoption) who has been taking up a huge amount of our time, so writing has flown out the window.
ReplyDeleteSecondly, congrats Sandra, well done.
Lastly, my entry for this week.
Wild Flower
Wild flowers bathed beneath the sunlight, like a green and lilac tartan haze shimmering in the heat.
The path from the backyard lead towards the overgrown garden. It meandered beneath a large willow tree at the bottom of the grounds before disappearing beneath the undergrowth.
She had been in the garden a long while, surrounded by flowers and prowling animals, and shaded by the dangling fronds of the willow.
Long, golden hair and sapphire-tinted eyes made Abbie very special.
Little Abbie would be ripe by now. Swelling in the heat. Stinking up the garden.
But she made the flowers grow.
Eek what visuals. How bright is that garden? I wonder about the one who put her there. Lots to learn about with this.
DeleteAJ, I know 'congratulations' isn't the right word, but relief certainly is. I'm so happy for you all - long may the 'right' thing continue.
DeleteThe lights in this garden glow wild and bright; it twinkles with morbid growth, Abbie resplendent. But whose garden is this, and why is she there? Methinks no-one will ever know. Beautifully told.
As gritty and affecting as you can get with your "horrors of humanity" AJ, I do love it when you play nasty in the genre-patch.
DeleteWonderful ending.
That was disturbing to say the least AJ. Many unanswered questions.
Delete"Little Abbie would be ripe by now." The matter-of-factness of those few words is so chilling... makes the tale that much more horrific. And I mean that in a good way!
DeleteBrilliantly told, AJ... both disturbing and wonderful!
I ought to know by now, but your sweet then shocking sour catches me out every time - this is just a more extreme, and therefore more shocking, example.
ReplyDeleteit's giving you that false sense of security, isn't it, and then slam bang, the image vanishes in a cloud of gore. Loved it.
DeleteSlamming the doors shut now, I'm afraid. But will continue commenting...
ReplyDelete