The Prediction - the saviour is here

For those of you that haven't clocked it in the comments section of last week's Prediction challenge, I have great news about the future of The Prediction. Colleen Foley has kindly agreed to take on hosting The Prediction from 1 February 2013 and has even set up a new place in anticipation. Do go and take a sneak peak at her new site here: http://predictionfiction.blogspot.co.uk/ . I couldn't ask to hand it over to a better person, with her great serial about Seth and Nate (written in a tag style fashion with RR Kovar) and her always supportive comments, I am sure that The Prediction will continue to florish under her watch. Thank you Colleen for accepting the next watch.

Right, I still have a few weeks left and have judging duties to do. So, here are my winners for this week.

In the top spot I have chosen Shaun Adams with A Pit of Yellow Stars. Shaun - you captured the bleakness of war here with a man lying in an open grave surrounded by death. You teased us with a brief glint of hope as he sensed life amongst this anguish only for you to snub it out with that final sentence. Well played sir, well played.

By the way, do go and click on Shaun's name above to check out more about his latest literary release Evil in Mind. Shaun's pieces are always worth reading and I am sure I will be picking up a copy to digest in the near future.

My runner up this week is David Barber with Their Nightmare. David - an excellent incite into the evil that men do via indifference or, even worse, repulsion. Our protagonist's only crime was to become crippled and yet society shunned him. That closing line captured so elegantly the guilt which welled within those who simply walked on by. Their nightmare indeed. And I forgive you the slightly errant use of the word hoard ;-)

So congratulations to Shaun and David with two stunning pieces of writing. And my thanks as always to everyone who submitted tales this week. Such great quality. Always delicious and always hard to judge.

Now, on to the words. My tome has started to act funny, he's eating more and getting plumper. Must be something to do with the changes acoming. However, this makes life easier as he is more docile than usual so I think I can pluck those three words with not too much effort......
  • Vent
  • Clock
  • Save
Such simple words but where will they take us.

The usual rules apply: 100 words maximum, excluding the title, of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above in the genres of horror, fantasy or science fiction. All variants and use of the words as stems are fine. Just have fun!
You have until 9pm (UK time) Thursday 17 January to get your entries in. New words will spill forth and winners will be announced by 9am Friday 18 January. If you can, please tweet about your entry using the #fridayflash #100words or #flashfiction hashtags and blog if you feel like it.
 
Please tell your friends and do give feedback to your fellow Predictioneers - everyone appreciates it!
 
I am looking forward for what will vent forth from your vivid imaginations this week!

Comments

  1. Thank you Phil. What a nice surprise and a great way to start the day.

    Congratulations to David, and to everyone who writes at the prediction. It truly is an honour to be among such talented people.

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  2. Brilliant piece Shaun, well done.

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  3. Congratulations to David and Shaun! Brilliant pieces from both of you this week. Well played!

    Phil, I can't thank you enough for your kind words! Saviour, eh? I may be blushing a bit. *grin* All honesty, I consider myself lucky indeed to have been entrusted with giving The Prediction a new home. I need to thank everyone who has already dropped by to check out the new space and left such supportive comments. It's thrilling to see the member list growing before much has even happened there! Again, thank you ALL for entrusting me with the treasure that is The Prediction.

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  4. Kudos to Shaun and David, and well-deserved ones. I hope you both come play at the new spot. I really enjoy your voices.

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  5. congratulations to Shaun and David, fine writing, outstanding writing, I have to say!
    Will now go ponder the new words in the company of my zombie. He is a part of life now...

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  6. Overload

    Before I could rush off – juiced up and half-cocked – Uncle Jim arrived in a cloud of dust and irritation.

    “Christ’s tits, you two!” He glanced at Nate’s car. “Where is he?”

    I pointed south. “Bastard left me behind.”

    “You wanna vent or find something to save your idiot brother?” He tossed me the book.

    It thrummed.

    “You’re giving it back?”

    “Pfft. I made a copy. Now hurry. Clock’s running out.”

    The book opened to the right page. Intentionally.

    I swore.

    “How bad?” Jim asked.

    “Unimaginably.” I stepped onto the ley cross.

    “Don’t! That’s…”

    Magic surged through me, burning. “I know.”

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    Replies
    1. You truly are the mistress of half-hinted intimation which grabs and entwines attention. This is full of tease which leaves me avid for more ... and soon.

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    2. definitely! half stated and teasing for sure! Clever move on for the story.

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    3. Huh, Seth's going to need all that juice for what's coming next, sweet cheeks! NICELY done!

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    4. And Uncle Jim's back! He'll knock some sense into this pair. The energy in this is building just like the magic inside Seth.

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    5. You are an expert at building tension and anticipation. Another great entry.

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    6. Nice entry, hints at what might be going on yet leaves it too the imagination of the reader.

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    7. You have a great gift for characterisation and shifting a story along with only a few words. The descriptions are sparse, but it doesn't feel that way. =)

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    8. This grabbed me from the first line! Very neat entry. More, more!

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  7. Well done, well won, Shaun and David.

    Tao does the business

    The clock on the cupola above the archway to the stables must have stopped; it gave the same time – sixteen minutes past five – as it had some four silent, stealthy, knife-slipping minutes ago.

    He’d originally thought to follow him to the field but it saved time to simply go up to his room: the door had been unlocked, he’d been asleep and unsuspecting, and there’d been just a venting of a tiny breath, and a little, soon-staunched blood.

    Much as, earlier, had come from her, though that had taken all of seven minutes, once he’d blindfolded and gagged her.

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    Replies
    1. four silent, stealthy, knife-slipping minutes ago.

      a line that cannot, cannot be beaten for sheer nastiness! Wonderful!

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    2. Yep, that is a brilliant opening! This was definitely a fun read.

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    3. Wonderfully descriptive and a tense story. An interesting and meaty story.

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    4. ' four silent, stealthy, knife-slipping minutes ago." excellent line!

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    5. Thank you all for your encouragement and compliments.

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    6. An opportunistic fellow our Tao. Having dispatched of our first victim we are now left with a mystery lady who has been snatched away. Always so good at leaving us wanting more!

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    7. You paint such a dark picture, all the stealth and ill-intention delivered in delightfully practical terms.

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    8. Nasty, and what a fantastic phrase, as several people have already mentioned. =)

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    9. "knife-slipping", such a chilling phrase! And a much chilling last line.

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  8. I've left the last line on top so you can see why he begins Because ... otherwise it might not make sense. It does to me, I have it as an ongoing serial in Word.

    – why is it deserted?

    Because the rain is about to fall and there it goes, the heavens open, the torrent crashes as if God is venting his anger on us. He can go right ahead. I have nothing to save, no flesh, no clothes worth worrying about.
    Hey skullface, look, a mirror! Well, a shard anyway. Take a look at your clock, then, poor half-baked zombie, see why they run.
    So, I looked and… is it so bad? A bit – lopsided perhaps, that eye could do with pushing back into place but on the whole… better than I thought.
    I will walk on.

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    Replies
    1. And a use of clock which I had totally forgotten about - well played. I suspect our f(r)iend has little to worry about with a shower or two seeing as an errant eye causes him no distress. Where to next I wonder?

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    2. I love the idea of God venting his anger through rain. The bit with the eye was gross and inspired.

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  9. 'see why they run' - see how they run, a brilliant echo of a long-established frightener, and Oh the horror of confronting one's own ... lopsided (a bit) face.

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    1. I adore how pragmatic he is with regard to such a horrific situation! "...that eye could do with pushing back into place..." made me snarf coffee.

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    2. This fellow is all personality. I love the way he thinks and I love the sheer fact he thinks. More more.

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    3. oh a horrific image - and yet he walks on - really is the walking dead! ^_^

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    4. "Hey Skullface, look, a mirror."

      I love this internal monologue, makes him quite a likeable fellow, puts me in mind (a little) of John McClane talking to himself in the first two Die Hard films. =D

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    5. This may draw a horrid image, but like John said, he is a likeable guy! I can see him do fine along the way.

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  10. Witchy Woman

    I landed on all fours in a miasma of mud, slime and scattered bones. She stood naked in the middle of it, beautiful – save the thing nestled between her breasts, pulsing red and grey.

    I stood. She tilted my chin up and kissed me. I tried to close my fist and couldn’t.

    “You and I will die, as we vent upon the world the plague that will destroy your brother.”

    She gently licked the thing on my chest. In my head, a clock began to tick.

    “You’re wrong. Seth won’t get sick. He has magic.”

    She only smiled.

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    Replies
    1. And I don't suppose crossed fingers will help much either will they? What a fabulous start to this, and how it twists.

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    2. so much going on here, it's intriguing and nasty at the same time!

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    3. The two stories flow perfectly. What a shocker and quite a twist.

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    4. 'a miasma of mud', what a great turn of phrase. This is getting more and more intriguing. Well will RR take us next?

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    5. Love that final line. Like she knows, like maybe, even, she's counting on it...

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    6. Magic will prevail! Right..? But that smile in the end makes me wonder.

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  11. I hope you don't mind, but as this incarnation of The Prediction is coming to a close, Colleen and I are trying to wrap up our current story, so double posting is inevitable (and that was quite the run on sentence!)

    Designs

    Exquisite pain. Excruciating pleasure. I was filled, fulfilled, overfull.

    Pages flipped, autonomous. Whenever they stopped, I set spell into flesh, colorful sigils linking as I went. Last was a clock, hands moving, approaching midnight. So much for not getting more tattoos. At least they provided a vent for the magic.

    When the book stilled, I stepped out of the stream without difficulty.

    Jim stared. “Nate’s gonna see you as a monster.”

    “As is he, now. If I can’t reverse this …”

    “You sacrifice him to save the world.”

    The compass on my forearm pointed me toward my worst nightmare.

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    Replies
    1. Reading this leaves me aching with fearful anticipation of what is about to happen, all taking place against the night. (You could post SIX episodes and I'd still want more ... but I do understand when the end is nigh.)

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    2. agree with Sandra here, you could post six and I would want more!
      This is sooo good.

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    3. If you feel it you must write. This is an intriguing move in the story.

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    4. So Seth is supercharged with sigils to take down/save his brother/the world. Breathtaking writing which is rushing us towards the conclusion.

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    5. Ah man, that's some heavy cliffhangering there. A shame its ending, but feels like its going to be quite the climax. Looking forward to it. =D

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    6. Seems like things have just gotten serious!I love the role of the tattoos here! I'm curious of the conclusion now!

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  12. Job done

    Gagging unnecessary once she’d overcome her shock: he needed only to ensure she hadn’t clocked him. In her position she’d not have many men willing to give her such a ride, not with her husband likely to vent death and mutilation if ever what they’d done became known.
    Saving God’s bones, ‘twas to be hoped that he was deaf as well as impotent, the cry she’d given as she came, despite his haste for his own satisfaction. Blood was his, from where her nails had raked him.
    Rashly, she’d believed he’d take her with him, another reason for the blindfold.

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    1. This is a wicked little interlude. He really is a cad of epic proportions, but at least he left her satisfied.

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    2. Oh wicked indeed, but the note of satisfaction extends outside the world of this story!

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  13. Hah! Didn't see that coming! Pardon the only half-intentional pun. Fabulous little twist there. "Likely to vent death and mutilation." Just a lovely phrase!

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    1. cold, gory, full of exciting images, this one needs thinking about and I will!

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    2. The opening line is an attention getter. Great sense of casual violence.

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    3. Very dense, Sandra, the picture built is one of well over a hundred words, echoing forwards and backwards along the timeline.

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  14. The zombie's tale continues...
    Sometimes I believe – ha! I should know! That there is a God. Look what He’s given me, a jacket. Not one I would have been seen dead in but what the hell… Look, it’s tweed, with that double vent at the back. Saves some of the bits falling off. Perhaps.
    The town clock is chiming – what? Damn, lost track of the dongs. Can’t be that late, but is it too late to call on Madam? I’m tired, all that exertion. I need to work out what to say when I get there. I want to appear sane.
    Insane thoughts. Yes.


    I realised earlier today that this is my third zombie story, the others were proper short stories as it were, one a flash piece, and in them the zombies walked talked and thought. I don't buy the brainless stomping around senseless creatures, I think some think. I know they do, this one says so.

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    1. This is far and away my favourite zombie - but then I don't know any other. Especially enjoyed the vented tweed jacket.

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    2. A touch of civility creeping in with the introduction of his tweed attire. Love the fact he wants to appear sane, ignoring what the sight of a decompsing walking corpse might do to Madam (or is she used to such things?).

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    3. Not one I would have been seen dead in is wicked humor. Following it with Damn, lost track of the dongs., in light of his penchant for losing pieces, had me cackling.

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    4. Worries about the appearance of his mind more than his body when he turns up on her doorstep... =)

      I'll say it again. I like this zombie, a lot.

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    5. Love it, love it, love it! This is such twisted fun! Zombie of the year I reckon :)

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  15. I haven't been able to play for a while as I have been tied up doing my editor's edits for my new novella, a psychic thriller that is being released by Crooked Cat on 21st Feb. But I think I'm done now so I'm joining in this week. Here's my attempt at those three words. ^_^

    A Misunderstanding

    In the dark all he could hear was the rasp of his own breath as it met the algid air. The metal cut deep into his flesh. He ran his tongue across his bleeding skin, its salty essence danced upon his lips. It wouldn’t be long before they came back, the clock was ticking. They didn’t know what they had done—stupid fools. He stood and yanked the chain from the wall as though is was a piece of string. He would enjoy venting his rage on them. For once, he would loose complete control—nothing would save them now.

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    Replies
    1. Congratulations on forthcoming novella,and thanks for the new word. Good to see you back.

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    2. 'algid' - the first (and newest) dictionary I checked only had 'algicide'= fungus killer, I had to go to my ancient (1964) Concise Oxford to find it.

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    3. Lovely word, that! Algid. I have filed it away for future reference. I do love this story. I want to know what "they" did to him and exactly what happens to them!

      Congratulations on the new novella! I do hope you'll be able to find some time to come and play when The Prediction moves to its new home on Feb 1st.

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    4. Great to have you back here Helen and good luck with the release in February.

      Like the sense of menace within this piece Helen even though our hero (?) is the one chained up to start with. Lots of back story just waiting to explode onto the page here.

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    5. Oh, I like this! Who is he? Who are they? What is he that he can wrench free? This whole piece is one divine hook.

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    6. There's a feel of metamorphosis to this, they managed to subdue and chain him, but now he is able to free himself so easily... I like it. Great sense of menace, as Phil says.

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    7. What have they done? I fear they won't meet a good end with this one loose!

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  16. This one took some bringing into shape ...

    A change of focus [14]

    Save for the ticking of the clock the room was silent.

    Pettinger, stony features ramparting repugnance which rang discordant bells behind his eyes: ‘The mistake is yours, to think I would believe you.’

    Venting spleen, Gunita deadly-drilled a dozen words at Goren which, sans obscenities, translated as ‘I told you it would fail,’ but Goren’s tolerance of his sister’s histrionics had expired; casual, open-handedly, he felled and then stepped over her.

    To Pettinger: ‘You go now.’
    Implacable: ‘The tapes.’
    ‘Pfft, camera broken, all blank.’
    ‘I have your gun, fingerprints CCTV...’
    ‘Eye for an eye, eh?’
    ‘Aye, and I’ll be back.’

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    Replies
    1. That opening line really sets a tension up as the sounds of those ticks and tocks get louder and louder in my head.

      Really like the horse trading at the end and the threat implied within that last line. Great stuff as always.

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    2. Oh my! This is like a game of battle chess, though Gunita is not the queen she thought herself. Pettinger is a splendid noir hero, so flawed and angry yet still sympathetic.

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    3. That last staccato exchange works very well. And I enjoyed the 'eye, eye, aye, I' too. =)

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  17. The closer we get to the end, the more fun I'm having!

    Velvet Underground


    “It’s been about Seth all along. Josette just had to save the book, become something she was never meant to. She had to be ended. If only she’d spawned a girl, this wouldn’t have been necessary.”

    The clock in my head ticked fear and loathing as she pressed closer. My body betrayed me – responding as her lips brushed my jaw.

    Her breath caressed my ear, sweetly vile as she whispered, “We will join. At the end, when you vent all that rage and passion within me, the world will become like us.”

    “And Seth will die trying to save it.”

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    Replies
    1. Oh, Nate, Nate, let your brain take over ...

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    2. Oh intriguing and deliciously dark.

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    3. A dark temptress in the bowels of the earth, will she turn Nate against his brother or will fraternal instincts win out....

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    4. Couple of phrases I really like here,

      "The clock in my head ticked fear and loathing..."

      and "sweetly vile," almost oxymoronic, yet works really well with the tension between the two words.

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    5. Resist this temptation he must!

      And yes, "sweetly vile" is a wonderful phrase!

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  18. This has been quite the challenge! And with this, I lob the ball back into Colleen's court (or Nate's, if you prefer).

    Desecrated

    I’d seen bigger heating vents than the hole Nate fell through. Behemoths like me aren’t made for small spaces. Graceless, I forced myself below.

    Nothing will erase the sight of Nate being ridden by a mud-encrusted thing. I’m sure he was ensorcelled to see a human woman. Magic poured from an amulet on her chest directly into the dark spot on his.

    “All your saved up spells won’t help,” she purred, “but give it your best shot.”

    Light show masking intention, I cleaned her clock with a single blow.

    Nate lunged, feral. Lost.

    I backed away, preparing. “God forgive me.”

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    Replies
    1. Now I discover that I've been rooting for Seth all along - hope he's the stamina, the strength to overcome Nate's treason.

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    2. Didn't see that coming. Ensorcelled is a great word and the thing truly has enchanted poor Nate. So, is this now a stand off between to the siblings? Will either survive? Tune in next week, same bat time, same bat channel (oh, slightly of track but you get what I mean). Dying to see how this plays out at the end and wonder which of the two of you writes the final installment.

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    3. Oh, building and building. =D

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    4. Tension! I feel a grand collision approaching. This is beyond brilliant.

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  19. A sombre piece this week:

    Guilt

    The bet had been a simple one and not a day goes by that I wish we had never made it.

    The weather had been glorious that summer and we would often play in the warm waters of Tommy’s parents’ pool. It was his idea, the bet, who could hold their breath the longest.

    Tommy went first, clocking seventy-four seconds. I managed eight-six and ribbed him about it all day until I left.

    They found him that evening, no-one at home to save him, head submerged, his foot caught in the filter vent with a stopwatch floating round his neck.

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    Replies
    1. Sombre indeed - and horrific in its oh so possible simplicity.

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    2. This chills me to the core, because it does happen and so easily. This is the sort of story (and dreams) that paralyze a parent. I stopped watching local news because things like this would pop up without warning.

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    3. Oh that is dark, Phil. Perfect title too, what guilt to carry.

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    4. Yes, I think the reality feel to this is making it much darker and chilling.

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  20. I've been away too long, a lot of crazy things happening at the moment, luckily I found time during my lunch to knock one out.

    Galactic Pot Roast

    Zirk looked at the food before him, an acrid acetone smell assailed his snout causing the blow hole on top of his head to vent the stench back out into the room.
    He preferred the taste of free range Humans from the countryside; their meat being richer and more gamey than battery bred urban Humans. City dwellers chased the clock, causing stress induced acidity, which tainted their flavour; only copious amounts of earth garlic could save a dish using urban meat. He ached for the taste of the long extinct Martian grey, shame they didn’t breed as successfully as Earthlings.

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    Replies
    1. I have to wonder whether you enjyed your lunch! So matter-of-fact.

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    2. I highly approve of your "foodie" alien. Perhaps if they ate more of us, we might be less hurried and hence more tender.

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    3. Heh, nice play, William. =)

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    4. My childish, smutty mind giggled at your turn of phrase about knocking one out William. Oooo, matron as the late Frankie Howard would say.

      But anyway, on to the tale itself, a comical tale of a feasting alien not satisfied with the meat before him. Really enjoyed this and it made me chuckle throughout. Wonder if Tesco's does a range of burgers that might suit him...

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  21. There is always a reason that we do, what we do

    The Clock saved me.

    The Clock is Order. The Clock is Discipline.

    Without order and discipline we are nothing but animals, eating and fornicating and killing in the mud, venting air and faeces. Anyone can do these things, base and without form, a chaotic, depraved imitation of life. Only through precision are we truly alive. The coiled spring, steadily released, inexorable, controlled, perfect.

    The Clock is the metaphor for the true life.

    And if you do not have order and discipline, you cannot be truly alive, you cannot be truly human. It is important you understand that, at the last.

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    Replies
    1. Uncomfortably threatening, especially because so many people think like this.

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    2. For all that it is laid out so baldly, there are layers underneath this, and they frighten me.

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    3. Feels like the Clock is a religion to him, as it is to so many people. Some mild-mannered clock-watching clerk pushed too far, turned serial killer?

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    4. Very, very dark Matt. There is a meticulousness about this character which I do not like nor trust. Such a cold piece throughout and then we realise it is a narrative to someone (or at least it is in my head) with that chilling final line.

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  22. Rise


    "This is the new world, Olivia."

    Steel-plated crabs clambered across the city, their patchwork skin mottled black-brown with rust and pollution. They rattled from rooftop to rooftop, pausing only to vent steam.

    "I hate it, Papa."

    A strange clamour swelled, a great clanging and chiming.

    "What is it?"

    "Clocks, child."

    "Clocks?"

    "Marking the hour. They have been silent so long, since time and love were outlawed."

    "What does it mean, Papa?"

    There was a flash on the horizon, followed by a dull thump and a thin plume of smoke. Mechanical claws clacked frantically.

    "Someone thinks they can save us."

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    Replies
    1. Especially likes 'since time and love were outlawed' and the increase in scale (depth of field?) brought about by 'a flash on the horizon'

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    2. This is an entire world captured in a few words. I want to explore it further. So much to love, from the stained crabs to the father's apparent disbelief that they can be saved.

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    3. I am always amazed at how you world build so thoroughly within 100 words John. A great sci-fi piece to grace us with this week and some much to intrigue us with.

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  23. Good evening everyone! It's good to come back around even though these are the last days of the Predictions here. Congrats to David and Shaun, and Phil you have and are an amazing host, no parent to this storytelling challenge. Looking forward to playing in the new home with everyone!

    I'll be reading all the posts in a minute. For this challenge I've gone simple - I guess I've lost my touch a bit.

    Silent Prayer

    I have my fistful of sand, but it slips away so fast. The tiny particles of warn-down rock seem gentle against my rough skin. The wind takes their warmth away into a sea of glistening gold, one of which I dream so often.

    Before me the ruin of a tower clock erects, its bygone mechanism ticking in echoes from afar, counting my last minute.

    Can I be saved? Forgiven? For my passion condemned as crime, for my actions ruled as wrongs. Can I? The barrel points me; as it ignites I beg it vents my anger and I start anew.

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    Replies
    1. Simple maybe, but very effective indeed.

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    2. There's something wonderfully raw about this piece. ticking in echoes from afar is such and evocative phrase.

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    3. Ah Cindy, sneaking in just before the deadline drops as is often your way and with another Vaskova special.

      Loved the phrase The wind takes their warmth away into a sea of glistening gold, one of which I dream so often. A heartfelt piece with a hint of hope at the end. Well written.

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  24. Sorry I didn't have time this week, and with such accessible words, too :(

    Anyhow, GJ everyone else...

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  25. And so I bring the party to a close yet again. An hour late but I am sure you will forgive me as I am certain you have been enjoying yourselves amongst the wonderful tales on offer.

    So I am off to comment and judge before extracting those magical words which guide us each week for the penultimate time. Gosh, it's getting closer every day...

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