Prediction Plugs
Before I start on winners and words, a quick plug or two for a couple of Predictioneers.
Col Bury's brilliant ebook MANCHESTER 6 - six gritty crime stories from the streets of Manchester - is half-price for a limited time. It's a study of harsh realities blended with rash humour. Do read this book - it will remind you what a skilled writer the UK has in Col Bury. The novels are coming - we need to be ready.
You can download it, 'Like' and 'Agree with these tags' at Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com.
John Xero, if you didn't see his post in last week's Prediction comments is starting a new fiction challenge of his own at 101 Fiction. It will open soon for submissions, so please pay our friend a visit and send him your best!
Your support is most welcome.
Winners of Last Week's Prediction Challenge
His language in last week's entry broke my bleeding heart; the winner is Shaun Adams with the haunting, terrible The Morning After. So much atmosphere in so few words - I feel am being rained upon by desperation in this hopeless situation. Brilliant. Congratulations Shaun.
Runner-up is Anthonia Woodville with the breath-stopping Suspense. I almost had a panic attack envisioning the narrator's trapped scenario and was then hit by that incredible last line! Well done Antonia.
Words for 20 April 2012
My fingers fumble, treading the pages. I stab - and open my eyes... This week's words are:
- Fathom
- Forget (all forms acceptable)
- Gallant
I think my pages must have gotten stuck! Good luck everyone.
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 26th April 2012 to enter.
The winner will be announced on Friday 27th April. 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.
May your words tremble upon the paper, may they evanesce from your minds to the screen...
The winner will be announced on Friday 27th April. 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.
May your words tremble upon the paper, may they evanesce from your minds to the screen...
___________________________________
Poetry? Yay I think I'll have go.
ReplyDeleteIt's always been poetry too Shirley - please do have a go!
DeleteLouise wished she had a grenade in her purse. She couldn’t fathom how she’d got involved. The idea had seemed exciting to begin with, even titillating to be truthful… she was now desperate to end this painful charade and make her escape.
ReplyDeleteOk mama, Louise thought I hope you were right. She stood, and folded gracefully in a heap at the feet of a passing barman. The gallant organisers helped her into a taxi, assuring her of an invite to the next one.
She just wanted to slink home, curl up with a drink and forget about speed dating forever.
Carol, like it! raises all sorts of questions for the reader to answer!
DeleteWelcome to The Feardom Carol! I really enjoyed the twist here; was Louise an assassin... an adultress? But no - the truth was more terrifying than we could imagine. A lovely write, tinged with every single woman's worst nightmare.
DeleteSpeed-dating as horror scenario? - of course!! The possibilities are endless.
DeleteWonderfully written, Carol... and this feels like it could be just the tip of a much bigger story... the mind reels a bit with the possibilities.
DeleteI have the same questions as Lily... assassin? Adulteress? Gay girl at a straight event?
As Sandra said... 'speed dating as horror scenario'.... brilliant!
Welcome and brava, Carol!
Ha ha! =)
DeleteWell-played, Carol. As people have said above, it reads like something far more serious, but twists into the punchline well and demands a re-read. Good one. =)
Nice bit of misdirection there Carol. I was convinced it was some kind of swingers thing and then you deliver that final sentence. As John said, well played!
DeleteWelcome to the Feardom Carol, a well crafted debut,artfully done.
DeleteGosh, only just seen all these lovely comments, thanks people. I'm a flash nut and really enjoy writing it. And although I love to read horror I'm not good at it so my stuff is usually very mild.
DeleteCarol x
THANK YOU, LILY!
ReplyDeleteIt came very suddenly, full blown, and intrigued me so much I am wondering just what happened before ... I may have to find out!
Intriguing words this week, will go ponder.
Big congratulations to Shaun and Madam Antonia. Great choices.
ReplyDeleteWhoooooooo party at John Xero's place. I'll bring the margarita mix and extra salt. Who will bring the chips and dip? Cinco de Mayo is fast approaching we can start the fiesta.
I will most definitely head to John's place after the final prediction. I hope all of Ms . Lily's minions will as well. I enjoy everyone's posts and stories. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
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ReplyDeleteWell done to Shaun and Antonia, and fingers crossed for future solutions to withdrawals symptons from 'Predictions'
ReplyDeleteThe blacksmith's wife came back with a retort quite quickly, and I'm hoping that he'll respond to her in time. (An omitted comma was the reason for earlier removal)
The blacksmith’s wife [part 8]
“If I reek of roasted meat, will you still want me? As you wanted me before ever we were wed?
"Have you fathomed, when it’s done, how you will fuck me? When you cannot take me on my back for my screaming from the scars? When from behind, the scribbled lexicon of sin will prevent you from forgetting?
“I think not.
“If it is me who needs reminding then, my gallant sir, I think you needs must think again … the danger is, from spite, it will be not your nose but your prick you have cut off.”
Ouch! A stinging rebuttal, Sandra, which reinforces the harshness of her pain and punishment and shows off her sharp tongue yet again. A fantastic instalment.
DeleteSharper than any blade made by man or myth... a woman's tongue!
DeleteWell said... the blacksmith's wife turns the tables quite nicely indeed!
Excellent dialogue... or, I think rather, monologue... that poor blacksmith seems to have lost his tongue!
Very well done, Sandra!
Things are really heating up between these two. The dialogue in this is so strong and really captures the spite/anger between the two.
Deleteit just gets better...
DeleteI agree with the other comments Sandra. I look forward to reading this in it's entirety one day soon.
DeleteThe viciousness of the wife's reply is as hot as the blacksmith's furnace, but you know what? Despite the cutting words I think they were tinged with some perverse flirtation.
Delete"the scribbled lexicon of sin" is absolute craftswomanship.
Thank you so much for choosing my story Lily, that you should honour me amongst such a fine and talented group of writers is a balm for the soul. Congratulations to you Antonia.
ReplyDeleteNo sign of little hoofs yet,I fear our mare will keep us guessing for awhile longer.
For those of you who don't know,those little hooves are dancing in another paddock somewhere in Gods acre. Things didn't go as planned.
DeleteShaun, I am sorry to read this. Not all goes the way we hoped or planned, does it? This is really sad news.
DeleteShaun I am so sorry. My heart is with these poor souls of Epona, and you and your wife. x
DeleteI am so sorry to hear this, Shaun... my heart goes to you and your wife. The music of their hoof beats belong to 'ceu ponei' now. x
DeleteA Tainted Ship Upon A Tainted Ocean
ReplyDeleteHeliotrope becalmed upon a burnished copper ocean languishes in the first dogwatch. All around me chaos looms among the people.
Captain Merryweather holds the quarterdeck in boat cloak and Bicorn, a half-chewed rat in his hand.
"All hands to loose t'gallant sails!"
Loblolly boys rush him snarling like wolves, belaying pins crack his skull. Grey matter splatters the holystoned seems.
A red-coated marine dry humps a nine-pounder with tears in his eyes. All this I see and choose to forget.
I leap from the yardarm and soar, full fathom five into the open arms of Davey Jones.
Madness setting in on a windless sea? Too many days in the sun?
DeleteSome nice (nasty) touches to this that bring the madness to life, S.K. Tainted indeed...
"Grey matter splatters the holystoned seems"...
DeleteDark, horrific imagery as we witness man's descent into madness.
Well played, Shaun!
Wow, lots going on here and think I need my seafarer's dictionary to fathom some of it out ;-) Madness on the high seas. How long had they been stuck on that becalmed ocean before the depravities started? Top notch.
Deleteif I haven't already said it, congratulations on the win last week, well deserved! and this is full of gungho pirates and death and destruction, loved it!
DeleteThank you, as always for all your lovely comments.
DeleteOutstanding Shaun. I knew how good this was going to be from the title, and it truly delivered a rollicking ride o'er the waves, sordid and bastardly. I loved it. Brilliant writing, well done.
DeleteI'm glad someone got to use 'full fathom five' and well done for the loblolly and half-chewed rat and all other nautical (or should that be 'naughtical'? - sorry)references
ReplyDeleteIt was a bit tongue in cheek wasn't it Sandra. I am not going to look at it anymore, I've seen one spelling mistake already. :-)
DeleteCongratulations Shaun and Antonia... excellent tales, both of you... honours well deserved!
ReplyDeleteCol's offering Manchester 6 for half? But... but... I've already paid full... and started reading, so there's no taking it back for a refund and then buying the half off version, is there? And, you do see the dilemma... things are out of balance now. There are undoubtedly folk who will pay half price and give a full review, so I, having paid full price, must give only a half review... to keep things in balance... right?
Got your heads properly spinning with that bit of logic, have I? Lol!!
Oh, Lily... what delightful words have we this week? Mmmm... they do taste wonderful on the tongue.... I will try to make something worthy of the Feardom. :)
Congratulations Shaun and Antonia. =)
ReplyDeleteAnd thanks so much for the mention, Lily. People can hop on over now and have a look at the site, submissions will open on May 1st. =)
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ReplyDelete(sorry... muffed the spacing on my first post)
ReplyDeleteMmmm... the buffet table is filling up! Yummy!
Here is my little morsel for this week... the first one in quite some time that didn't come to me in the dead of night, but rather while getting my nails done this morning - playing in the sand 'plays' hell with a [once] fresh manicure...
OUT OF FAVOUR
By Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw
~~**~~
“Ill-conceived was your treachery… fair Queen. Did you think this once favored knight would forget?”
Strapped to dungeon’s rack… royal pretense and regal garments in tatters…
“I shall see you hang for this, disloyal cur!”
“And I… shall see you in hell… accursed slut!”
Razor sharp dagger slices through royal fabric… buttons fall… powdered and perfumed flesh revealed.
“Feckless female… fathom your fate thusly!”
Pressing dagger against quivering breast… crimson tear rolls down flesh.
Once gallant knight slips his blade between velvet lips… a phallic twist… royal blood rains down on cold stone.
“None shall bed you now… graceless whore!”
~finis~
There is ever something vaguely nasty about 'powdered' flesh ... but the final thrust of the knife outdoes this, in chilling dungeoned spades.
DeletePower play oozes from this piece. Even chained the Queen demands authority until the final twist of that blade in her royal chamber.
Deleteoh, like it, authentic dialogue and lots of blood...
DeleteGah! >_< That penultimate paragraph has me physically cringing. Great piece with a nasty twist (sorry ;) )at the end.
DeleteNicely done Veronica.
DeleteGetting your nails done Veronica Marie? Sometimes I think I don't live up to being a woman; I've never had my nails done, only had my hair professionally coloured for the first time a few week ago, can't wear heels... And I'm 48 next month. Sigh. But I love my lippy and liquid eyeliner - wouldn't be seen without it! Does that count?
DeleteOut of Favour is a wicked script, too real to be morphed into a Hollywood misunderstanding but well-worthy of a Cannes indie. This knight needs bidding Good night - permanently. A fine, excruciating write.
Thank you all so much! Your words do this dark little heart proud!
DeleteNot sure how I came up with this dark and nasty little bit after what was possibly the most perfect weekend (short of our wedding) that I've had in a long time... the mind of a writer is a thing of mystery, yes?
Phil, you put to words perfectly the mood I wanted here.
I am glad you liked the dialogue, Antonia... I was rather pleased myself.
Now that, John... that is the reaction I love to see!
Thank you, Shaun... a fun bit to write, this one. :)
"Powdered and perfumed flesh" was a memory from a naughty little indie piece a friend did a few years ago, Sandra... so happy you liked it. :)
Absolutely, Lily... the eyes are the windows to our souls, right? One should pay them the attention they deserve! And a properly painted mouth... goes with the eyes, yes?
I had my nails done special for Tina's birthday, but a weekend of sun, sand and saltwater left them a bit 'worn'. I'd never had my nails professionally done until I met Tina and I really do them more for her than me... I am definitely not a high maintenance girl! Oh! Don't take away my heels! Lol!!
I am thrilled that you found my little tale worthy of The Feardom... thank you so much! xx
Not a man to let himself be cowed ...
ReplyDeleteThe blacksmith’s wife [part 9]
Exhalation from his shout of laughter sped the sweat to trickle charcoal-contoured down my spine.
”Milady, you forget that with your wanton gallantries you’ve forfeited all sympathy for pain when – and if – I fuck you. You may ponder upon the precariousness of pricks, but need not fear for mine.“
He took down from above my head a scissor-handled, claw-hooked implement and, his eyes unfathomable depths of derisive calculation, asked “Would you better cleave unto faithfulness if I bring your loose-limbed lad, spitchcock splayed, and before your eyes, unman him?”
“Yes,” I breathed, “oh, yes, so long as you forgive me.”
more, more, more...
DeleteOoh, I don't fancy the lad's chances much, caught between these two. =/
DeleteMe thinks they doth protest to much,enough of the foreplay, bed the wench.Go at it hammer and tongs I say. :-)
DeleteShaun - don't be in such a rush man, they've got to stretch it out until May 11th, prompts willing, and if it ends too soon Antonia will be disappointed :-)
Deleteyes, I will...
DeleteTBW 9; oh how you twist this tale and tease us Sandra. Now we are threatened with the lad that caused the wife to make a cuckold of the blacksmith; poor boy. Thrilling... desperately, desperately thrilling.
DeleteCold-hearted wench! She would so easily give her lover up to the vengeance of her husband's wounded pride, to save her own adulterous flesh from the 'whore's markings'... chilling... utterly chilling!
DeleteA well told twist, Sandra... brilliantly done!
Thank you all for encouraging me in the writing of this tale - could not have come into being without.
DeleteShock and Awe
ReplyDeleteShrill sounds – he wasn’t sure whether it was torn metal, children screaming or his own screams – which filled his nerve-shredded mind. A flash of colour, bright in his memory, burned through the narrow, dusty alleyway.
He remembered the vivid shade of life; deep red. His own. Theirs. Thick; smeared.
Images gouged into his brain, snapshots he would never forget.
He stared up from the sullied dirt, couldn’t fathom why he couldn’t move. Twisted lumps of flesh lay scattered; women and children, ripped by the hidden bomb.
Sergeant John G. Gallant felt the sun on his face. Until, eventually, it faded.
Starts with a bang and ends with a whimper... that last line is so steeped in poignancy. Great job.
DeleteAJ, this is so chilling. As always you evoke such sensorial reactions - the parallel between torn metal and screaming is genius. I agree with John, the way Gallant's feelings fade as his life peters out is so sad. No doubt the sun was still shining.
DeleteAJ, the terror is hidden in the detail of this piece. The twisted lumps of flesh is an image which will haunt me.
DeleteYou pick a flash point, a moment in time and render it into words. Amazing.
Delete"Steeped in poignancy..." John has pretty much summed this horrific tragedy.
DeleteWith so few words, AJ... you bring dark, grisly images to bear. One's senses are filled with the sights sounds and smells of the bomb's destruction. And, that last sentence...
Sheer poetry... horrific, yet tragic and melancholy poetic.
Once again you've taken real life and made it into a dart to more than prick us with - and what an excellent title.
ReplyDeleteanother perfect example of how to conjure images, AJ. Loved it.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteCongrats to Shaun and Antonia for last week's plaudits.
ReplyDeleteTough words this week so thought I'd play with the style; hopefully it works.
Enjoy.
Berserker
Everything feels vibrant before the killing stroke hits. The scent of the battle is exhilarating, as essences of blood, sweat and fear assault his nostrils. A blood lust descends, hard to fathom, a dizzying intoxication of senses as life juxtaposes, slowing before his eyes whilst racing inside his heart.
He becomes a God; mortality forgotten as he slaughters indiscriminately, his axe a blur, hacking from left to right with a chillingly metronomic rhythm.
Seconds, hours, millennia pass before his euphoric brain registers the bastard sword rending his gut asunder. He stumbles with no witness to his gallant death.
Forever forgotten.
Nice, Phil, powerful. The mighty warrior, caught in the red mist, loses his way forever. Loved the juxtaposition of the racing heart with the slowing perception of time.
DeleteUnexpected ending, but it works. Like AJ's, starts with action and ends with sorrow.
Phil, I love how you've taken us straight into the berserker trance state - the exhilaration and heightened perception, the delirium. It equates a shamanic journey - deeply involved yet experienced from afar. The power almost denies him his death, and the final throes are a tragic salvation. Brilliant.
DeleteIsnt that a brilliant word Berserker You really captured the essence of the word in this piece.
Delete"Blood lust descends... dizzying intoxication of the senses..."... you take us straight to heart of the berserker's mental state...
DeletePowerful and omnipotent... until an unseen edge takes away a warrior's power and light... plunging him into darkness.
Bravo, Phil... bravo!
Enjoyed the style immensely Phil - instantly transported to the midst of a battle, and the 'He became a God:' sentence so good at encapsulating the action, and the final putting it into sad context.
ReplyDeletegood one, like it, so much going on in such a small space of words. It actually feels bigger than the 100 word limit somehow.
DeleteDeeper
ReplyDeleteThe Nautilus II creaked disturbingly as it sank below the thousand fathom mark. Jets of salt water sprayed in as the implacable depths probed and tested the submarine’s steel armour.
These gallant, foolish men thought this just another place to be conquered. They forgot that life was born down here.
They pushed deeper, on their captain’s urging, until the seams of the submarine burst. The sea roared in, and the captain unravelled. He unfurled into a writhing mass of tentacles, at its centre a hooked beak that plunged relentlessly into the chests of the drowning crew.
Stuff of nightmares, truly, and the prompts seamless even they weren't on the Nautilus.
Deleteyes, good one. There is more under our seas than we know of anyway, when we get exploring properly, half our horror books will look like Enid Blyton and it will start with something like this...
DeleteI love this john, very unexpected, the captain unraveling. Great stuff.
DeleteAn extraordinary vision, John. The reference to where life was born chilled me in so, so many ways - the immensity of that statement made me feel minutely small and somehow guilty. The Captain's turning inside out to reveal that beak and the mass of tentacles is horror bliss. Superb.
DeleteJohn, I can hear the metal screaming as the submarine descends further into the depths. And then you take us into Lovecraftian terror as the tentacled beast unfurls from the captain. Excellent sir.
DeleteOh, this is going to give me nightmares! I may just scratch scuba diving from my 'bucket list'... I've no desire to come to face with a beast such as you imagine here.
DeleteI do love the end, horrific as it is... clearly did not see that coming... gave me a startle for certain!
Afraid I won't have an entry this week - I started one but it didn't want to play.
ReplyDeleteI've been tied up with work this week, and won't be around until late this evening, so will add my comments then. Apologies for not being around - but don't stop! (Until 9pm GMT, that is.)
xx
Conjuring an image of you tied up in the basement, Lily... hmmm... what words would go with this image?
DeleteOh... you said tied up with work... oops! :)
Twitter Ye Not
ReplyDeleteYou tweet like an archer with a savage bow; you seem to forget she's a human you know.
Behind her avatar is a heart that beats, you can't seem to fathom she has needs.
There's a person behind that screen you shit; gallant you ain't and this is the bit,
where you get all defensive and make an excuse, that you provide a service; no mate it's abuse.
So next time you blog, or facebook, first grab a mirror, take a good look,
Would you treat your mother like this, or are you a twat who just takes the …
I like it,strong and heart felt words, well crafted.
DeleteWilliam, this had me looking over my shoulder. There are some sick and evil web trolls out there - cowards that hide behind invented personas and can only get off by bullying others and reeling in their reactions. Revenge must be wrought - and some of us have very long memories. A shocking, poetic and thought-provoking piece.
DeleteClever William. So often people forget the human behind the PC.
DeleteNice one, William, clever and relevant. An important message, well told. Just a shame the people it applies to are the people least likely to care...
DeleteVery cleverly done, William... very clever indeed!
DeleteYou paint with words a startlingly realistic image of the heartlessly craven bastards and bitches (social media does tend to level the playing field among the sexes when it comes to hate) who lurk in the ether, waiting to pounce at a sign of weakness or need.
Horrific and relevant. Thank you.
Excellent, memorable message
ReplyDelete100% agree with that comment
DeleteAccidentally lied. Had to go to bed with a headache after work and have cancelled my plans for the evening. Dreamt about this...
ReplyDeleteHYDROMORPHOSIS
His shadows reflect on the wall. They mingle over and through each another, light and darker depths of grey. His dancing fingers stretch towards me, gallant and inviting, clawed and skeletal. I forget to say “No”.
Here we drift. His soul is a spectrum; colours that prism in the water making dappled ripples that sparkle and slumber in waves. Mine is cold, dead... imprisoned in a swollen body trapped fathoms beneath the undulating surface of his skin.
A prick. A snagging of my flesh. I pour forth into his embrace and am once again enraptured, uncaptured... adored.
Oh crikey! Trumping the lot of us, just like that, Lily (and I'm not going to tell you that part of me is pouting and saying "It's just not fair!!")
DeleteEvocative and disturbing writing Lily.
DeleteLily - not that I wish it on you but I kinda hope you have headaches more often if this is the result. Visions of Nosferatu with Max Schreck haunted me here with the dancing fingers before evolving into something more terrifying.
DeleteI think I have this down right, Lily, and it's so dark and gorgeous. What a point of view to tell the story from, so well imagined and realised.
Delete"His dancing fingers stretch towards me, gallant and inviting, clawed and skeletal."
DeleteOh damn! I'll not sleep a wink tonight! and, no Tina to cuddle with and keep me safe... business in Seattle beckoned her.
Damn, Lily... like Phil says... have another headache, dear... this is brilliant... dark... evocative... terrifying... and... more... more... more, please!
Brava! Brava, Lily! (curtseys...) What a deliciously wicked prelude to your curtain call at Friday Prediction!
I am not playing this week. I am brain dead, it feels as if it is muffled and wrapped and packed in cotton wool, for some reason. I am just about functioning on an editorial level but not a creative level.
ReplyDeleteThen I come on here and read the entries, including that stunner from Lily, and I think, just as well I didn't enter...
damn fingers... cut me off before I finished, see what I mean about brain dead? because my entry would look like Enid Blyton compared with the horrors you lot have posted! Vivid, imaginative and gory. Thanks for a load of very good reading.
DeleteAnd so, an hour late - I get my keys out and plunge them into the waiting holes. Click, Turn. Bolts slide slowly, noisily across.
ReplyDeleteFermées.
Back in the morning with winners - and some exciting news! ;-)
"Exciting news"?
DeleteAnd you're just going to leave us hanging with that little tease? As on tenterhooks? What the hell is a tenterhook anyway? It sounds painful!
Boa noite, sweetie! 'Til the 'morrow. :)
Veronica - 'tenterhooks' is a pre-industrial wool manufacturing term and refers to the outdoor fence-type arrangements whereby a length of newly-woven/fulled/washed cloth was suspended from the hooked top rail and stretched down to the bottom hooked rail and left to dry in the open air.
ReplyDelete