Lily's Friday Prediction

I obviously threw everyone by posting a day early last week, but David Barber still swooped in to give a great first entry, whilst Chris Allinotte introduced us to the deliciously gruesome, and ever shrinking 'Rinotte'. I dropped mine in only yesterday, if anyone wants to take a peek.

So, over to this week's with no rambling. Three quick words - which are:

• Rubber
• Brewery
• Husk

Rules: 100 max flash fiction or poetry using all of the words above, posted in the comments box below. 

One last thing - would you like me to start choosing a winner? (No prizes, you greedy lot.)

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Cult of Crimson Tides

In this orchard 

Marguerite au Sabbat, 1911
Pascal Adolphe Jean DAGNON-BOUVERET
Le musée d'Art et d'Histoire. Cognac, France.

pendulous drops, 

red, juicy spheres

decorate my tree.

Life in monthly fruit forms.

“Eve in punishment”,

he tells me.

Descending, ever paying

for the sin of love, of beauty

and of liberty.

This is the word of God.

It is the truth,

as recorded 

by Man.

He sees me as a factory.

He strains, disgusted

at his lust, his want of me.

Appalled 

at my cries, he denies me

the rare sweet joy.

He withdraws.

Time is time, and time again.

It comes in cycles.

Tidal waves

wax and wane.

Bijoux babies - my escape 

from his oppression. 

Lovingly

I cradle them.

Innocent of him, they

grow to ignore his rhetoric.

They care not for dictators.

At fifty, flux and fucks

diminished, here’s the last.

The life within is precious.

It kicks inside my cauldron.

I am woman,

welcoming the love of man and

wishing this man

would love this woman equally

as mother of

his children, clan, his

swelling brood.

If he can’t treat the wife he chose 

with warm respect

and dignity

I’ll take our babes to

live our lives alone,

away from Christian eyes

and judgement.

Wise, safe sanctuary.

Man’s time is over.

Time is time, and time again.

Ours is now and for the first time,

mine 

will soon begin.

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Lily's Friday Prediction

By request, I'm using a different book to perform this week's prediction. Hmmmnnn... It's a book I love. It's a book I first read at school in the 70s, though it was written in 1951. It's a book I didn't read again until fifteen years ago. It's a book that everyone who struggles with being allowed to be oneself should read. It's On The Road by Jack Kerouac.

Before I reveal today's words I just want to applaud last week's entries. Joleen gave us a snappy, mania-ridden 'announcement'. Sue H's 17th Parallel chilled my bones. Michael Solender disturbed us, as usual. Chris Allinotte had me laughing in revenge for something I hadn't done. David Barber hurt my head, in a good way. Pixie J. King had me in tears. And my own entry - well, I had to research Korean political history and sadly, it taught me a lot. Excellent entries. Thank you.

This weeks are:

• New Orleans
• Swallow
• Phlebitis

Usual rules - 100 words max flash fiction or poetry. Please add them in the Comments box below.

And in the unlikely event that you haven't read On The Road, I recommend the version On The Road by Jack Kerouac The Original Scroll introduced by my talented old friend, Howard Cunnell.

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Their Dark Masters Cover Artwork Preview

Lookie, lookie! Sneaky peek at Mark Crittenden's superb cover for Their Dark Masters anthology. Isn't it pretty?

The anthology is filling up quickly but there is still time to enter. You can find the details at Red Skies Press, and of my involvement at an earlier post on here Their Dark Masters traps Walls of Flesh.

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Oops!

Done it again, haven't I? Given you an extra day on the Friday Prediction!

It's because I've been stuck at home, working, with a poorly little'un, so all days have merged into one. And there I was thinking I was organised.

No matter. Get 'em in. I'll just try to recapture that extra day I didn't live. (Is that an idea for a story? Bit too 'Wonderful Life' maybe.)

See y'all Friday, if not before. :)

24th September - 00:20. Shifted up to it rightful Friday place now!

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Under Naked Leaves

She's drunker than
September berries
asleep on the ground,
her bloom bursting black
with fermenting darkness
and sweet sugar juice.

Happy Equinox everyone.
23rd September, 3:09am GMT.

I'm drumming in Mabon. Peering through the veil. Welcome to the autumn.

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Dressing-Up Box at The New Flesh

The marvellous horror/bizarro site that is The New Flesh is running a competition on the theme of "...and that's why I keep my eye in a pickle jar." Details here.

My entry Dressing-Up Box is a demonic dance that gave me the most inappropriate pleasure to write. TNF accepted the submission - and it is now up on the site.

Do pop over to have a read and make a comment. I'd love to know what you think.

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