Tag Archives: Ramblings

What we Are

claire-fuller-3

Copyright – Claire Fuller

If a mirror existed that showed us our reflection, not as we appear, but as we feel; a pure reflection of our souls; what would I look like in such a glass? A rumbling volcano? An explosion of raging lava at a word said in a misjudged time? A spluttering of ash at a phrase uttered in a misused tone? But I guess it would be a mild volcano; no Vesuvius.  Unsteady, yes, and explosive, but fading quickly; an Etna maybe.

You? What would your reflection be, my love? A statue made of marble, perhaps?

Emotionless, no explosions; cold to the touch, like marble?

All logic, no splutterings; clean and flawless, like marble?

—

For Friday Fictioneers.

A Summoning

Summer, you cruel devil, are you not done with me yet? Have my offerings in bucketfuls of sweat not been to your insatiable satisfaction?

Winter, you sweet thing, deliver me from this hell.

—

This was me tipping my hat at the seasons and, in so doing, answering the challenge the good people from Trifecta posed us this weekend:

Apostrophe: “A figure of speech in which some absent or nonexistent person or thing is addressed as if present and capable of understanding.”

Regarding my particular choice of Apostrophe…if you live were i do, where Summer lasts for eight whole months with daily temperatures of 35 degrees Celsius and humidity so high that the air you breath sticks to the sides of your nostrils and liquidates on its way down to your lungs…you would understand me better.

Beesity

Copyright – Jennifer Pendergast

‘It’s the Beesity epidemic?’

‘The what?’

‘You know… what they were saying on the news the other day…the obesity epidemic that’s hit the bees!’

‘Oh! … What the hell is that?’

‘It doesn’t matter, just stay away from the damn things.  Charlie from work said that his mother’s cousin’s daughter was stung by one and it split her in half.’

‘Oh!’

‘If it comes anywhere near you just don’t move and stay calm.’

‘Oh! … OH! … Brady…?’

‘Yes, sweetie?’

‘Don’t panic…’

‘Why should I panic, sweetie?’

‘Do. Not. Move.’

‘Shit! Sweetie? … Sweetie? Where are you going? Sweetie!’

—

For Friday Fictioneers.  Not particularly proud of my attempt this week, but it is what it is.  Hope you like it better than I do!

My Damsel

I dragged her screaming.  But she never prayed for rescue, nor shed a tear. She glared at me; eyes burning in anger not fear.  Therein lay her charm.  She conquered me.  I’m hers.

Dragon and Damsel _2

Copyright: Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon by Scott Appleton)

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I gave you 33 words for this Monday’s Trifecta Challenge which is: CHARM (verb) 3: to control (an animal) typically by charms

Though technically I didn’t…I had this done for a Trifextra Challenge a couple of weeks back; the one that had no subject and just said, ‘Give us your best 33 words.’  Do you remember that one?  Well I had prepared what by no means did I think were my best 33 words (by the way, thanks for not piling on the pressure on that one, Trifecta!) but they were the best I could do at the time.  Then, when I pressed ‘Publish’ nothing happened.  I tried and tried.  In the end, my tiny story remained in the draft section till today and until I read Draug’s post – which is brilliant and also about dragons – and it was than that I remembered that I have a dragon of my own waiting his turn for a spot on the web.

So there you have it; a back story which is longer than the actual story and a tired writer hoping you’ll like her work.

Good night, you all!

Procrastinate Ad Eternum

My writing process is in my title.  Procrastinate Ad Eternum. Yes, that’s me.

Why am I telling you this?

Because in this week’s Trifecta challenge we were asked to describe our writing process in three words.

Why?

Because one of the Trifecta editors has recently been lucky enough to have been present in the aura of Neil Gaiman, who happens to be my favouritest author in the whole wide word. In the Q&A that followed the reading of the Master’s third chapter of the new book The Ocean at the End of the Lane, the Reigning Monarch in Fictiondom was asked  “Can you tell us your writing process in three words?”

His Awesomeness replied, “Glare.  Drink tea.”

That was a cool and insightful question to ask the Conqueror of the Pen, and I wish it came to me when I met His Greatness at the 2011 Fringe Festival.  Alas, that is not how my rendezvous with my idol in fantasy fiction went.  And if you want to know how it did go, read on. Continue reading →

Satanist for a Day

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Copyright – Randy Mazie

When Boo decided to become a Satanist, Randy tagged along.  They bought themselves leather jackets and dog collars and prepared for the ritual. They had watched enough television to know how that went.

Full moon saw both youngsters at the cemetery dragging a bleating Sandy behind.  They found a marble tomb and took out the knife.  Then sat and stared at the goat.

‘I can’t do it, Boo! Me Pah’ll kill me!’

‘Grow some balls!’

‘Boo, I can’t!’

Boo gave out a grunt and snatched the knife, hiding his trembling fingers.

A twig snapped.

The young men were back at the barn faster than Sandy could bleat a reminder that she was still attached to the tree.

—

When I saw this picture on Friday Fictioneers, I went, ‘Oh shit! How can I explain this one away!’ Then I thought and thought, and an idea did come to me, but I must confess, I couldn’t keep to the hundred word deadline this week; which is a pity because I’ve missed quite a few challenges in the past weeks! If you can offer any suggestions they are very welcome and I’ll edit as the comments come in 🙂

The Speed of Mouth

It all started when Emma told Donna that she liked Fred. At the time they both giggled and left it at that.

Later that day, when Donna was walking home from the bus drop-off with Pippa, Donna found herself at a loss for words.  Pippa, who was in with the cool crowd, only walked with Donna because she had to, them living on the same street and all, so when Donna felt that familiar awkward silence coming on, she fished frantically inside the innards of her brain for a topic.  And she found it; only, when Donna told Pippa that Emma liked Fred she scrunched up her nose and tried hard to sound all-knowing; “Not just likes Fred…she likes-likes him.” Who could blame Donna? This was Pippa she was talking to!  Pippa shrugged and allowed the silence to fester. It was not until the next morning that the little piece of news came in handy.

She was sitting in the aura of Maggie; taller, blonder, more beautiful than Pippa could ever be.  Gazing at the jocks walking by, Maggie disturbed the air with a high-pitched; “I dunno what you’re all looking at! They’re all little boys!”

“Hmm-mmm, we all know what your type is!” said Sammy, and Maggie smiled her I’m-so-grown-up-and-mysterious smile, which basically gave her a duck face.  Pippa, who in the two years of high school had become allergic to that smile, began to simmer; “If it’s Fred you’re talking about, forget it.  He likes Emma!”

And that was the last peaceful morning Emma spent at that school.  She was jeered at and bullied to the brink of depression until her parents dragged her and their belongings out of town.

Still, Emma got it better than Fred did.  His attorney pleaded with the judge that it was only a rumour, and the judge should know how rumours fly; especially ones so juicy.  But the judge didn’t buy it and Prof. Fredrick Simmons ended up in jail for abusing a minor.

—

mona-lisa-duck-face

For Trifecta.  The word given to us this Monday was FLY:

You know it actually took me two days to come up with a story?! But my mind pulled through in the very early hours of the third day (It’s 00:53 over here).  Hope you like this one.

Page 7

metal work beanstalk

Copyright – David Stewart

 

‘What the hell happened here?’

‘I—I don’t know, boss! I followed all the instructions!’

‘Like hell you did; look at it!’

‘But I did, honest.  All the instructions on page six. “Throw the bean and pour water on it.”  I did just what the recipe says.’

‘What about page seven?’

‘…P—Page seven?’

‘The chant on page seven.’

‘I—Wh—’

‘You’re telling me that the reason I am now looking at a ladder instead of a beanstalk is that you opened the book, read the recipe and forgot to turn the page?’

‘I—’

‘Idiot!’

 

—

Hello all! This little dialogue was triggered by the picture taken by David Stewart, chosen by Rochelle Wisoff and posted for Friday Fictioneers.  It’s been a while since I participated in this challenge and I missed it!  Hope you like it.