Happy October! Such a pleasure seeing you back here again. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to spend a few minutes with the FF community. Your stories stir the blood, and your support of each other warms the heart. What else is there to say, except WELCOME TO AWESOMENESS!!!!
Speaking of inspiration, our innocent (looking) little photo today was taken off the coast of Dubrovnik. On this day in 1929, the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes was renamed the Kingdom of Yugoslavia. If you’re not familiar with the history of this region and Yugoslavia in particular, I challenge you to take a closer look. The dynasty got its start in the early 1800s, then its rulers were exiled abroad for many years (and then voted back in), until the last king (Peter II) was eventually forced into permanent exile as the kingdom itself crumbled. Even today, Crown Prince Alexander, the last official heir of Yugoslavia, waits in Belgrade, ready to rule should his lost kingdom ever draw breath again. If that doesn’t get a Muse nattering in your ear, I don’t know what will!
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Thanks to a behind-the-scenes switcharoo (to use the technical literary term), up as judge today is Margaret Locke. Being a Queen herself, she laughs at anyone’s attempts to seize her throne (though she still dares them to try). She advises you instead to focus your efforts on writing stories that make her feel, ones with rich language and cleverly imagined conceits. Read more about what she likes in a story here.
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Awards Ceremony: Results will post Monday. Noteworthy #SixtySeconds interviews with the previous week’s winner post Wednesdays. I (Rebekah) post my own unbalanced writings sometimes on Tuesdays or Thursdays.
Now, start your political machinations and get to it!
* Word limit: 150 word story (10-word leeway) based on the photo prompt.
* How: Post your story here in the comments. Include your word count (140 – 160 words, exclusive of title) and Twitter handle if you’ve got one. If you’re new, don’t forget to check the contest guidelines.
* Deadline: 11:59pm ET tonight (check the world clock if you need to; Flash! Friday is on Washington, DC time)
* Winners: will post Monday.
* Prize: The Flash! Friday e-dragon e-badge for your blog/wall, your own winner’s page here at FF, a 60-second interview next Wednesday, and your name flame-written on the Dragon Wall of Fame for posterity.
***Today’s Dragon’s Bidding (required element to incorporate somewhere in your story; does not need to be the exact word(s) unless instructed to do so, e.g. “include the name “Karađorđević”):
*** Judges entry – just for fun ***
Don’t rock the boat
The waves lapped gently against the hull of the fishing boat as the two men lazily wiled away their Sunday afternoon. The sun was warm and the beer was cold. All was going swimmingly, until Phil went and ruined it. He turned to Bob and said, “Is my wife getting fat?”
Bob found himself mentally picturing Phil’s wife. He had to use a lot of his imagination to squeeze all of her in. There was an awkward pause while he crafted a suitable response, “Your wife isn’t getting fat, she’s simply having a horizontal growth spurt.”
Phil mulled that over, “Oh ok. Does that mean she’s fat though?”
“Fat is relative. Fat compared to what? Compared to a grizzly bear your wife’s skinny as a rake.”
“That still sounds pretty fat.”
“Trust me, no-one would ever call your wife fat.”
“They wouldn’t?”
Bob gave up, “Hell no, they’d be way too scared of her to say anything!”
158 words
@todayschapter
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nice lateral use of politician!
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Thank you!
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I love it! I especially like how hard Bob had to try to fit in the mental picture of Phil’s wife.
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Thanks!
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Lovely! Wonderful post.
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Many thanks
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Loved this! 🙂 Good ol’ Bob. He should run for office; he’s already a pro. 🙂
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Thanks Tamara, he just needs to work on his baby kissing skills 😉
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Love how skinny compared to a bear “still sounds pretty fat.”
Nice take on the prompt.
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Thanks Brian
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This is an absolute cracker. Very well done.
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Thanks David, very kind
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Oh, such diplomacy! Very well done.
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Thanks, if only I was as diplomatic as Bob, I’d get myself into much less trouble 🙂
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Spoken like a true politician. Bob should run for office.
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Thank you for the laughs! What a politician.
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Love the horizontal growth spurt. This one had me laughing out loud.
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LOL!
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Bated Breath (160 words)
@brett_milam
For a moment, as the water beguiled me with its gentle lapping against the side of our small boat, I’d forgotten that the Congressman’s body was cut into 13 chunks and stacked in our bait cooler.
Lennie was already in the deep end of the whiskey bottle, as he fiddled with the netting.
“It starts today, here, with us, Bruce,” Lennie said, his words slurring out like he had a mangled starfish in his mouth.
Then, Lennie unzipped.
“Season ya up for the fishies, but they probably don’t even want your filth,” Lennie said, as his piss drizzled on the grey hair chunk of the Congressman.
His style was a bit much for me alright, but I couldn’t shake the adrenaline when we netted the Congressman right outside his home.
Felt like something mattered again. Felt like I mattered.
I took a swig on the whiskey before it was all gone and listened to the gentle lapping, tapping.
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Yikes. May I never, ever meet Lennie. But very well done. Your description is amazing.
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You are too kind, thank you!
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Love the contrasts. First paragraph sets it up really well.
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Thank you, Marie!
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I’ve never met Lennie but he sounds like someone who would actually put a starfish in his mouth.
Nice work squeezing a great character into 150 words.
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Many thanks, Brian!
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This is so good Brett. I had similar thoughts when I saw the picture (I don’t know why). But glad I didn’t go down that route as the results would have been shockingly poor compared to your sterling piece. Well done.
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Thank you, you’re too kind, Mark!
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Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Give the fish a man and you feed them for a week.
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Loved Lennie, a fine upstanding traditionalist. Had a similar tale in mind when I first saw the prompt but glad I didn’t follow it through as you nailed it …
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Thanks, IR!
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I like the idea of netting the Congressman. Diabolical minds think alike. Great story.
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Diabolical, indeed. Thank you. 😀
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The first line is such a great hook. Well written and full of power for such brief flash.
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The first line is always the hardest (until the last line), so I’m glad you liked it, thank you!
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Enjoyed this, great idea – ‘Felt like something mattered again. Felt like I mattered.’ – this stuck out as the clincher. The title is very clever.
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I have a lot of fun with titles, so thanks!
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Loved this Brett, Lennie Bruce? !
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Haha, thank you, I actually haven’t seen much of his work!
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I enjoyed ‘deep end of a whiskey bottle’, and the idea overall. I can’t help wondering what the Congressman did to deserve such a fate…
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By being a Congressmen :p
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This Is What You Want, This Is What You Get
The rifle cracked twice, the sound dopplering across the bay. The PM jerked instinctively, thinking that they were under attack again, then relaxed when an aide pointed him towards the empty fishing boat drifting in a spreading scarlet slick.
“Illegals?”
“Can’t be too careful sir.”
The PM waved to the guard turrets ringing the compound.
“Good show chaps!”
The aide sighed.
“They’re automated sir, remember? Too many undesirables in the squad, you said.”
He gestured towards a cluster of wooden crucifixes on the beach, where the seagulls perched and pecked at what remained. The PM chuckled.
His phone bleated out Land Of Hope And Glory and he checked the screen, then slipped it away, fishing for his cigarettes instead.
“Looks like the natives are getting restless again. Birmingham’s burnt to the ground.”
He thought of the benefits bill for the city, erased in one night, and barked out a laugh.
“And they said I had no economic policy.”
158 words
@Karl_A_Russell
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Love it! I think Maggie would have been proud of the progress that has been made 🙂
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Dark and funny. What a good mix. I have such a hard time mixing tones like this. Great job – I really enjoyed it.
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this is so political incorrect I love it …….. I laughed out loud several times…. Poor Brum I live 19 miles up the road and didn’t see the flames…. this has got to be the winner 🙂
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“He gestured towards a cluster of wooden crucifixes on the beach, where the seagulls perched and pecked at what remained. The PM chuckled.”
This gets under my skin, the perfect description to show how little is cared for their fate. Brilliant piece.
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Great satire. Clever and enjoyable as always.
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Wonderful characterization in so few words, Karl.
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Nice counterpart to the party conferences 😉 well played!
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Mr Russell, you put a great comic edge on a serious issue.
And I loved your first paragraph description regarding the aftermath of the shooting (“spreading scarlet slick”).
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Well done, Mr Russell. Loved TC’s comment on Maggie. Brum in flames what a sad image. Great ending, but I’d expect nothing less.
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Love the sense of paranoia running through this. Well done.
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adored the politician waving to automated turrets … a touch of the Boris in him methinks!
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Wow. Killer last line. Killer PM. Powerful story.
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Sly and witty. Enjoyed this one.
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Brilliant – just brilliant – had a screenplay feel to it – like ‘Dad’s Army’. What a great punchline too.
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You had to burn Brum, eh Karl?
Great story.
You’re title reminds me of the song from a cool film called Hardware. It starred Dylan McDermott and also Karl McKoy from Fields of the Nephilim and was based on 2000AD story – so I reckon you know it too.
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Brilliant last line! Encapsulates the ‘politician’ prompt perfectly. This created such a clear mental image for me; for whatever reason, the late Rik Mayall was the face my imagination gave to your PM. Great work.
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All Politics Is Local (159 Words)
“Politics ain’t personal,” Jimmy K said and lit a cigar. The sea breeze ruffled his silver hair, and dawn light gave his face a rosy glow. “All politics is local though. You know who said that?”
He glared at the Congressman sitting across from him.
“You don’t remember, do you? It was Tip O’Neill. Speaker of the House. A great man. Don’t know your history, huh? Guess that’s why you been such a disappointment.”
Jimmy K shook his head and puffed on his cigar, his great jowls billowing in and out like bellows. “It’s a sad thing when you forget your friends. When you forget where you come from.”
A man appeared from inside the cabin. He finished wrapping chains around the Congressman’s body.
“The Congressman don’t have much to say this morning, Jimmy.”
“It don’t matter. He’s on permanent vacation.”
Gulls swooped low when the Congressman’s body hit the water.
Jimmy K said, “Throw them birds some food.”
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Ooh, chilling! I liked some of your description; made me feel like I was right there (although I’m glad I’m sitting safely in my chair and I’m NOT right there): “…his great jowls billowing in and out like bellows.”
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Thanks so much. I really appreciate your kind words.
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What fantastic descriptions. Amazing.
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Thanks so much.
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Your dialogue is so authentic and believable here. Well-done.
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Thank you. Really enjoyed your take on the prompt as well.
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Jimmy K’s character is so well filled out in his lines! Really great example of describing a character through dialogue!
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Thanks a lot.
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Good take on the prompt. I liked how the congressman doesn’t say anything throughout and that you made Jimmy K a smart criminal. I imagine him sounding like Joe Pesci.
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Thank you. Jimmy K was fun to write.
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Hi Sarah, Sorry I’ve not commented the last few weeks. Like always, great descriptive work. I love the strength of characters in this piece as well. I think you’ll be in the mix.
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Thanks, Mark. It was great fun to write.
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great dialogue and imagery … enjoyed that immensely
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Thank you so much.
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Politicians are racking up a body count today. Not much love for this Congressman. Love the Tip O’Neill quote and its use here.
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Thanks a lot!
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Fab exploration with excellent characters – really enjoyed the ‘frankness’ of it.
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Thank you. So glad you enjoyed it.
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Love the dialogue in this. Very authentic.
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Thank you!
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Good gangster dialogue, hinting at a much bigger backstory.
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Thank you!
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‘Throw them some bird food’
Great tale. Loved the characters.
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Thanks!:)
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Creepy, and well done!
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Fantastic story. I loved Jimmy’s ‘great jowls’, and the Congressman’s silence which becomes clear as the story concludes.
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Thanks. Glad you liked it.
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The Morning’s Haul
152 words
@scturnbull
The two men set out in darkness, but by the middle of the lake the sun was risen. The air was still and already warm. Taking the fishing net, they fed it over the side, allowing the slight current to spread it out.
“So, lets eat,” the older man said.
He opened a hamper and handed over sausage and bread. From a bottle of slivovitz he poured them a glass each.
“Zivio ziveli,” he toasted.
“To life,” the younger man responded, “though not the Bosniaks, neh?”
“Ack, Ratko, no. What are we going to do. We need to break their spirit.”
“Simple, Radovan. Deprive them of their fighters. Current or potential.”
Ratko held his glass forward, Radovan refilled it.
“How?”
Ratko shrugged his shoulders. “Easiest way in wartime, we kill them.”
Silence hung on the water, like breath held in expectation.
Radovan nodded. “Do it.”
A gust of wind rocked the boat.
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aarrgghhh – just spotted a typo!
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If you pop a comment pointing out what the typo is a wandering dragon may magically fix it 🙂
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This does sometimes happen, but only if gifts are offered in exchange. Chocolate is the standard, but the dragons are open to other things too.
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So, if there is a magical dragon surveying the kingdom and feeling benevolent, the line that starts ‘Too life…’ should of course start ‘To life…’
I prostrate myself before your awesomeness.
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I see you have learned our ways quickly, young man. You should do well here.
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Enjoyed this scene. So simple, but so much undercurrent happening. Well done.
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Nice historical piece, taking into account the age of the prompt photograph – Yugoslavia ceased to exist in 2003!
Liked the implicit foreboding of the last line.
[Pedantic footnote: Since the magic dragon seems so easily appeased, scturnbull, perhaps you could also point out that ‘So, lets eat’ should be ‘So, let’s eat’.]
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this is so well written, destruction of life so casually discussed….. chilling !!
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I love the simpleness with deep layers going on:)
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Nicely underplayed scene with a good historic take on the prompt. I like the line, “Silence hung on the water, like breath held in expectation.”
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Very subtle. Love the feeling of authenticity in the dialog.
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What a tight conversation, just draws you in. Really enjoyed it.
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I really enjoyed your writing and the touches of realism (language, names), though I can’t help wishing for a little more exposition – unless I’m missing something really obvious! I’d love to know what they’re going to do to ‘kill’ their enemy.
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I thought the names may have been enough of a clue. Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic are currently on trial for genocide in relation to events during the Bosnian War.
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See, I knew I missed something obvious. Thanks! 🙂
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Double Cross
Andrej gazed at the walls of old Dubrovnik while Josip threw the nets.
‘God’s blessing,’ Josip muttered. Andrej crossed himself quickly and drove the boat on.
A sudden boom made them look toward the city. Clouds of yellowish dust rose from the walls.
‘Starting early,’ Josip murmured.
‘Vuković’s ‘modernisation’ won’t wait.’
‘Walls that stood against all comers, brought down by one of our own.’
‘One of our own? No Croatian would do this.’ Andrej’s pulse raced.
‘But he has the Crown Prince’s command.’
‘Forged. Forced, maybe.’ Andrej spat.
‘You opposed the Cathedral’s razing,’ said Josip. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘As did every loyal Croatian,’ Andrej replied, too quickly. He turned to meet Josip’s calm gaze, and knew.
Josip’s hand rested lightly on his gun.
‘But – you prayed. You spoke the old faith!’
‘Just words, comrade.’
The hammer landed with an empty click.
Andrej smiled. ‘If you’re going to play the game,’ he whispered, drawing his knife, ‘make sure you know the rules.’
@SJOHart
160 words
http://sjohart.wordpress.com
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Oh, crushing last line. Well done!
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Awesome!
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Such a great thriller. Loved it. There’s a very authentic feel to this. I am going to read it again. Very enjoyable.
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Neat! Game of Thrones Yugoslvian edition. Nice build of tension in such a short space! Then with a turn on top of that.
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Oooh – awesome! Well-filled out characters (just in dialogue, no less!) and a great ending. Well done.
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Loved how their friendship dissolved in seconds.
Great last line.
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Sorry I’ve not commented the last few weeks. Wow – one of the best endings I’ve read on FF, brilliant.
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Great twist at the end. Well done.
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Wonderful last line. This feels like a much bigger piece–great use of the word budget.
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Phew what a great story and the characters were so real. Excellent piece of flash!
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Thanks to everyone for the comments! I’m blown away. Hope to have a chance to read and comment tomorrow or later today. I just wanted to apologise for twice using the word ‘Croatian’ in my story when I should really have used ‘Croat’; I hope I can be forgiven! 🙂
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It’s all been said above, so I’ll just say ‘YES!’
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This was absolutely fab, very twisty turny and that ending was perfect!
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Thank you! 🙂
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Undercurrent (159 words)
@bex_spence
Eric scanned the scene, sun light shimmered on the water, and the sea glistened with an enchanting blue green. Within the boat his son and daughter, all he had in this world.
Official government order for the safety of the town, one of them had to go. A sacrifice made to protect them from the creatures of the sea. From those that lay beneath.
His son, nearly a man himself spoke up, ‘Father, do not fear. I will go; Emiline is still just a girl’
A tear ran down Eric’s weathered face, his hand lay on his son, ‘You are a good son, Thomas, a good brother’
The boat rocked, waves moved ferociously, the beast was drawing in.
Emiline stood, ‘No Thomas, not you’ rushing past the men she launched off the boat into the ocean, disappearing into the unknown.
Wild thrashing then stark calm, it had embraced her, she was gone.
Man and boy sat and wept.
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Oh, so sad. Poor Eric and Thomas. Impressed with Emiline – seems like a character I’d really love in a novel. Nicely done.
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That was so touching. I think the father had the worst of it.
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“Man and boy sat and wept.” Such beautiful, somber simplicity.
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Beautiful use of language.
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I want to know more about “those that lay beneath.” Lovely stuff.
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Love it!
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Heartbreaking. I love your take on this prompt.
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Brave Emiline! I liked the concept behind your story – original and interesting.
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Divine Rights
@geofflepard 157 words
‘What is it? The crown?’
‘Too heavy your majesty.’
‘The orb? The sceptre?’
The prime minister peered into the water. ‘It’s moving, whatever it is.’
The old men pulled at the rope. ‘It’s wriggling.’ ‘It’s wrapped in something.’ ‘Looks like carpet.’
The PM looked at his Sovereign-in-waiting. ‘The prophecy? Can it be?’
Roger, last King of the Balkans, smoothed his moustache. ‘It worked for Caesar.’
‘You think that’s Cleopatra?’
‘Hardly. She’d be 2000 years old. Get it in the boat.’
Carefully they untied the rope and stood back. For a moment nothing then a slip and a slop and a mermaid lay gasping on the floor. She glowered at Roger. ‘And you are?’
‘Roger, king of the Balkans, here to claim my right.’
‘In a fishing boat?’
‘We’re looking for the crown.’
‘This?’ She held up a simple gold band.
Roger shrugged. ‘Nope but it’ll do. Ta.’
The mermaid heaved herself over the side. ‘Bloody royalty.’
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Love this one, so funny!
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Thanks Chloe
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Lol. Roger, the last King of the Balkans. Hilarious. Loved this.
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Thanks Tamara. That means a lot given the quality of your writing.
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That was great. I like the mermaid’s attitude.
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Thanks Holly. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
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‘And you are?’ made me chuckle. Love it.
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Thanks Marie. I like a mermaid with attitude, especially when she’s been disturbed in her slumbers…
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I couldn’t help thinking about Monty Python and the Holy Grail when I read this. I am Arthur, King of the Britons. Very funny. Well done.
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Damn. I should have included a were-rabbit. Thanks David for the kind thoughts.
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Ha ha ha! Nice! Funny 🙂
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Funny dialogue. I like the mermaid. Great last line.
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Thank you
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Unexpected and fresh–such a different take on the prompt. Mermaids. Cleopatra. Wow. This was so much fun!
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Thank you Eliza
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Excellent! LOL!
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Thanks Avalina. You know how to cheer up a lad on a Saturday!
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An exasperated mermaid… has there ever been anything funnier in flash? I doubt it. Thanks for the giggle! 😀
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That’s so kind – I had a lovely image of the mermaid tapping her fishtail in exasperation.
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160 words, @turnerpen2paper
My Dad is a fisherman, and his Dad was a drunk. His Dad was a merchant in the port of Gruz, and his Dad was the Governor of the whole of Mostar District, which tells you something about the changing tides across the generations, I suppose.
It was many years since I’d been on his boat, and the weather was kind. Crinkled waves caught the sun right across the bay. Tata had the rudder and I pulled in the nets, shuffling twine through city-softened hands, saddened by the lowly catch. He’d asked me there, one year from my mother’s passing.
As the light faded, the boat floor was slick with scales. He cut the engine just as we rounded the headland, beside the cave which spits foam through its roof, a windswept spot that she loved. Tata spilt the ashes into the molten evening water and then we sat awhile, girice churning in the buckets, before turning sadly for home.
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Love the layered meaning behind this line: “…the changing tides across the generations.” The whole thing is beautiful; your word choice is spectacular. Great job.
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I agree, this is a particularly exquisite phrase.
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Thanks, really kind.
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I really like this one, good job.
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Thanks Holly!
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Brilliant use of language.
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Lovely imagery in this. I particularly like “city-softened hands”. Well done.
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I agree “shuffling twine through city-softened hands ” is a wonderful line.
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some great imagery, particularly adored ‘slick with scales’ and ‘molten evening water’
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Lovely portrait of grief and loss. I can see the ashes floating on that “molten evening water”. Really lovely images.
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Lovely phrases and language. City-softened hands is so good.
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Such a HUGE story in 160 words and so beautifully told. My fav is: ‘…beside the cave which spits foam through its roof, a windswept spot that she loved.’
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Sad and beautiful and filled with touches of perfect realism – places, names – which made it come alive for me. Well done.
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The Expedition
(159 words)
They rocked and rolled to the rhythm of the boat, under a pea-green sky:
‘Now, let’s not be politicians about this, one of us is gonna die.’
‘That’s true, my friend, there’s no other way: one dead so the other can survive.’
‘We’ve used up everything we had so, I guess, the time has come to decide.’
‘Fatter!’
‘Older!’
‘Taller!’
‘That matters?!!’
‘Well, let’s draw straws, instead-
the one with the shortest straw, is the one that ends up dead.’
They drew black straws- all the time looking each other in the eye.
It was The Cat , in the end, that came up short, but he thought he could still be sly.
He pounced at The Bird with flailing claws, but The Bird was truly wise:
The Bird side-stepped, so The Cat hit his head.
And that’s how he came to be dead!
Napkin,
spoon,
knife,
fork.
The Bird gorged herself in the growing dark.
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Any possibility of the colon after ‘sly’ becoming a full stop and, ‘he’ of the next line getting a capital, please? Lots and lots of chocolate on the way.
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What kind of chocolate?
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Only the finest! Thank you.
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Thank you for all your lovely comments. I really appreciate it. Probably my ambition was greater than my ability with this one, but it was great fun. Thank you all for being so positive.
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Ooh, loved the cadence of this, the rocking rhythm. It was worth at least three read-throughs. I enjoyed it.
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That’s very generous! Thank you for reading at all! Much appreciated.
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Absolutely runcible!
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Brilliant! Thank you so much.
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I want to know what happened to the small guitar! Lovely work, as always.
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You never let me down. Wonderful writing and clever structure. Hoping you get some recognition. Good luck!
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Love this. Such an original piece.
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Love this. Smart Bird. Foolish Cat. Very clever tale.
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So creative, and such an interesting spin on the prompt. Delightfully different view of the old rhyme.
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Great take on the owl and the pussycat story – such a unique take on the prompt – lovely writing as usual Marie (esp the ending).
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Thank you for all your lovely comments. I really appreciate it. Probably my ambition was greater than my ability with this one, but it was great fun. Thank you all for being so positive.
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Clever ‘what happened next’ with a lovely flow to it.
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This is wonderful Marie. Very subversive.
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You have a very poetic rhythm to this piece. Lovely!
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I loved this! So clever and utterly unique, and that last line is like a punch to the gut. Brilliant, Marie. Edward Lear would be proud. 🙂
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Thank you very much for your encouragement. I did take a bit of a gamble with this one!
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Fishing for Lost Time
By: Allison K. Garcia
160 words
“Now, watch how I cast the line, Bryan.” The thin, plastic line whizzed through the pre-dawn air and plunked down in the sea. In the dim moonlight, a red bobber moved with the soft current. “You’ll know you’ve got something when you feel a little tug.”
Water lapped the boat. The occasional splash in the distance of marine life jumping. A seagull calling its mate. Life. Inside the boat, silence weighed heavier than any anchor.
He glanced over at the unused fishing rod. “I was never the best father.” He played with the reel. “I worked too hard on the campaign trail, missing your games, your parties, your homework. I realize now; all the money in the world could never amount to one second of time spent with you.”
In the darkness, he felt the gentle pressure of a small hand in his. Heart aching, he stared into his empty palm, knowing he had one last moment with his son.
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Nice. I had a similar idea, but yours had a nicer ending than mine. Really liked the line: ” Inside the boat, silence weighed heavier than any anchor.” Great job! 🙂
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Hurray! I’m glad you like it. I plan to read all of the submissions in the afternoon.
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That was so sweet.
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This was really lovely. I get the sense that this father will continue to have these kind of conversations.
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🙂
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Very touching.
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Thank you
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Agree with Tamara; that line about the silence is really good.
Such a sad story. Beautiful idea.
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Thank you
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Brought a tear to the eye this one. Well done.
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😀
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This is lovely and sad, and all too true. Well done.
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Thank you.
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So sad. This one sneaks up on you.
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🙂
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Gosh. What a heartbreaker. 😦 Great use of the prompts, and such a touching story.
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Thanks!
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Tamara Shoemaker
@TamaraShoemaker
Word Count: 159
Empty Promises
He’d promised to take her fishing, a real-life rendezvous in a world where she saw him mostly on the news. She’d looked forward to it for days, and then weeks, then months, until she realized she would never feel the gentle rocking of the boat, the sun cutting through the mist into the gray waters. Not with him. Never with him.
He’d promised to take her to the carnival, to slide through crowds of fun-worshipers, a melting ice-cream cone in one hand and a stuffed Elmo in the other—the prize of some try-yer-luck booth.
He’d promised her a thousand things—slices of time he’d carve out between his harried days in the senate chambers. But his words lost their shine after a time. They rusted into a dull bronze, then the brown of dirt. Worthless. Trampled.
The day he won his reelection, he called her. I’ll take you to Europe.
She hung up on him, weary, scourged with empty promises.
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You’ve done a wonderful job of capturing hope and pain in equal measure. Beautiful imagery in displaying both.
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Thank you, Casey. 🙂
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Biting, biting story here. Love this line, “But his words lost their shine after a time.” I could see that as a lyric in a nice melancholy song…
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If only I was a song-writer. 🙂 Thanks for your compliment!
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What hurt! I love your use of language throughout: ‘scourged with empty promises.’ is so good. ‘to slide through crowds of fun- worshippers’ – fantastic! Great job.
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Thanks, Marie! I appreciate it. 🙂
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Nice. Makes me wonder how much he’s stringing his electorate on too, and how much longer before they feel the same way as the mistress!
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I’m afraid I have a rather dismal view of most politicians, and it probably bled through into this piece. 🙂 Thanks for the compliment.
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Oof! Satisfyingly scathing.
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Thanks! 🙂
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Hi Tamara – sorry for lack of recent comments. I loved the imagery at start and during the middle. Then the end, so powerful.
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Thank you, kind sir. As always, I do appreciate your comments, no matter if or when you choose to leave them. 🙂
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Good for her. I’d never forgive her if she’d gone with him!
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Neither would I. I was hoping she’d behave herself. So glad she did. 😉
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Nice!
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Thanks!
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Wonderful imagery. Great job! 🙂
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Thank you muchly, Annika!!! 🙂
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I love your word pictures. So beautiful and moving. Heartbreaking story well told.
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Thanks, Sarah. That means a lot.
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You’ve outdone yourself with this one! So much story in so few words. And I love all the little details, a stuffed elmo, the gentle rocking of the boat…
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Thanks, Taryn! The stuffed Elmo – a tribute to my three-year-old. 🙂 I appreciate it. 🙂
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The change from the often saccharine happy endings is refreshing and real here. Nice twist.
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Thanks, Eliza! I appreciate it.
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the title says it all – great build up to a resolute end. I enjoyed it.
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I appreciate it. Thanks! 🙂
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“scourged woth empty promises…” Fantastic line! Well done.
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Thanks, Grace. 🙂
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This one tugs on the heartstrings.
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It’s what I was aiming for. I’m glad it was effective. 🙂 Thanks!
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Another heartbreaker, and one which rings with so much truth. How sad that all children want is their parents’ time and love, and nothing hurts more than broken promises.
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So true, SJ. Out of all the things that make me cry when I read, it’s anything that has to do with children who lose their faith in their parents because of broken promises. Something about implicit trust that gets compromised time and time again until there’s nothing left. Breaks my heart. Anyway, sorry, didn’t mean to wax philosophical. Thanks for the compliment!
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Tamara Shoemaker
@TamaraShoemaker
Word Count: 157
Baited
Fred liked mackerel. Fred liked salmon. Fred liked perch, but none of the three swam in the bay the morning of the election.
The only thing that ended up on his hook when he reeled it in—time after time—was a trailing clump of sodden seaweed
“Funny, that,” he said, casting his line one more time into the water, shaking his head in my direction as he settled back into his chair. “You spend hours, days, heck, years even, perfecting your technique. The perfect cast. The strategic bait. Time of day. Is it too hot? Too cold? You wait, hoping for a bite, hoping the fish will swarm to your hook, interested in the scintillating slice of delight you put before them. Some bite; the rest go their merry way, heedless of the promises offered, perhaps even aware of the snare they so narrowly escaped.”
I grunted. “Yeah. Funny. You sure you’re talking about fish?”
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Love the ending!
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Thanks, Holly!
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Ha! This is great! Love the concept. =)
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Thanks! 🙂
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Very good. Love the ending.
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Thank you, Marie!
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I love how you’ve taken the picture and done something completely unique and unexpected with it. Something I’d never even come near to seeing even if I looked at it for a week. Well done.
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Appreciate it, Mark. I had so. much. trouble. with this week’s prompt. Glad something finally oozed out – and that you enjoyed it. 🙂
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Lovely comparisons between politics and fishing. Well done.
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Thank you, David! 🙂
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Ha Ha! great! I love the “scintillating slice of delight you put before them.”
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Thanks, Annika! 🙂
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Ha. Great ending. So true of elections as well as fishing.
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Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate it. 🙂
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Brilliant! Really enjoyed the subtle ‘political’ reference at the end. Very enjoyable read.
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Thanks, Avalina! 🙂
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I am returning the compliment – your extended metaphor was sublime.
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Thank you, David!
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Great use of language and dialogue in this, and I love the ending.
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Thanks, SJ! Appreciate it. 🙂
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Be Careful What You Kiss For
The smack drifted on a disinterested sea. Two men, hair bleached by the sun and skin reddened by the wind, waited to haul in their catch.
“Who’d you vote for?” Tar asked.
“Didn’t.” Jack said.
“What? People died for that. My dad for one, and your uncle Middy for another.”
“What’s the difference? One baby-kisser or the next?”
Tar shook his head. Another boat was coming towards them. Maybe Matelot from the next village.
“I voted for the other lot.”
“There’s my point. For all the good it did, you might as well have kissed this fish. Me and you’ve fished these waters all our lives and we’ll fish ‘em till we can fish n’more. I’ll leave the vote-casting to them who knows. It’s net-casting’s in my blood.”
The other boat came alongside. Not Matelot after all.
“Gentlemen, the new party has declared these waters Icelandic. You can no longer fish here.”
“Pucker up,” Tar said, handing Jack a fish.
160 words
@MicroBookends
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Perfect ending!
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Amazing what some people can do in 150 words or so!
I really felt like that was a really rounded story – with a cracking ending!
Thank you!
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Thanks. Mwah!
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Thanks Geoff. I really appreciate the compliment. You’re very welcome.
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Ooooh, I like this one. Great title and well-done ending.
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Thank you. Much appreciated.
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This is so clever. Well done.
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Thanks Marie. I’m pleased you liked it.
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great story with a moral …. ‘Use your vote’…. love the names of the characters Jack, Tar and Matelot …. one of my favourite tales… 🙂
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Thanks Stella. It’s always nice to squeeze a moral into a story.
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Lovely!
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Thanks for your comment. Much appreciated.
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Haha! This is so hilarious, but it also makes a great point! Wonderful job.
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Thanks Hannah. I’m pleased you enjoyed it.
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I like it! And that’s why I vote!
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Great story. So well done.
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Love that last line! Good job!
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Enjoyed the ending so much.
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Good cautionary tale with a nice pay-off.
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very nicely done, particularly the pay off that you set up with the title …
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I laughed at the end, but the issues this story raises aren’t funny at all – and what better way to draw attention to them. I loved the feeling, the dialogue, the language, and the reality that lies behind this tale. Excellent.
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Loved the title on this one, and how the last line wraps it all together. Great job. 🙂
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Thanks Tamara. I was worried the title might be a bit cheesy, but a bit of cheese never hurt anyone!
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I am admittedly a cheese-lover. 🙂
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The Old Man on the Sea
160 words
@UK_MJ
——————————-
“You’re doing it wrong.”
The cantankerous old voice was overly loud in the pre-dawn stillness.
Teeth grinding, Lyle hauled on the net and ignored his father’s unceasing litany of complaints.
It was too cold.
The boat was too small.
The water was too smooth.
Etc. Etc. Etc.
“Pull it up from the side or that net’ll get snagged. How you gonna catch anything in a net with a hole?”
Yes, sir, Mr. President. Anything you say, Mr. President.
“I thought I taught you -”
“DAD!” Lyle tossed a frustrated look over his shoulder. “I brought you out here to have a good time! Will you please just shut up and have a good time?!?”
The old man looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
“I am having a good time. I’m out here with my boy, ain’t I?”
Teeth grinding again, Lyle turned back to the net.
“Guess it don’t matter what you catch. You can’t cook anyway.”
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Ouch. Want to smack the old man upside the head. Great job incorporating politics in an un-obvious way. Really liked this one. 🙂
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A really believable relationship between the characters. Well done. Very enjoyable.
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This is lovely. I think a lot of people will recognize their own relationships with their parents in this. Well done.
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Haha, I laughed out loud.
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really lovely dialogue that set both scene and mood …
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So clever. Love your dialog.
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Perfect coming timing and a really bittersweet portrayal of a family relationship which many of us would recognise! Great story.
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The Politics of Fishing
‘But that would be very patronising, sir’, the MP’s assistant protested.
‘Would it?’
‘Why, yes. Nowadays people want to be responsible for their own fate, be independent.’
‘Really?’
The assistant clamped the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb and started massaging, eyes closed. He was grateful he worked for a reputed politician, but some days, some days nothing would please him more than to strangle that man with his bare hands. If that was even possible. The slippery bugger.
‘Let me tell you something,’ the MP said. ‘And I’ll get straight to the point, because I know how you hate it when I do my politician thing.’
The assistant swallowed.
‘After all these decades I have only learned one thing. Don’t teach people how to fish. Give them fish.’
The assistant frowned deeply, while the MP seemed to look straight through him.
147 words
@bartvangoethem
#FlashDog
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Liked “The slippery bugger.” Great comparison of politicians to fish. 😉 Enjoyed this.
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I like ‘The slippery bugger.’ Very believable characters.
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Very cynical. I love it!
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just wonderful satire …
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Love “Don’t teach people how to fish. Give them fish.” True politician.
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Great title played out well in the story – your stories always seem to cut to the quick – excellent flash writing.
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A great use of the fishing metaphor – and a perfect summation of how politicians operate! Great story as always, Bart.
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Fisher of Men
159 words
@HomeWithCarol
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Here,” he replied, placing a photograph in her hands.
“Fishing? You’re going fishing?”
“No, Mama. I’m going to be a fisher of men, just like you’ve prayed all my life. Remember? We talked about this already.”
“Oh.”
Silence. God, how he hated this place.
“I’ve got to go now, Mama. I love you.”
“Oh? Where are you going?” she asked again.
He felt like a politician, repeating himself over and over.
“Look at the picture, Mama. Keep the picture, Mama. Then, whenever you miss me, remember that I’m a fisher of men and pray for me.”
Silence.
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too, son.”
When he stepped through the automatic doors of the nursing home, the airport transport van waited for him. He handed the driver his bag and climbed into the front seat.
Once on the freeway, the driver asked, “Where are you going?”
“Fishing,” he said. “I’m going fishing.”
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Ooh, enjoyed this one a lot. Love the relationship with his mother behind the dialogue. Great job.
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I found this really sad. I thought the story was steering in another direction, and then you really got me. Very good job.
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This is very good. I can feel both his exasperation and love for his senile mother. Well done.
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Very thoughtful and touching take on the prompt. One of those stories that feels bigger than the size of the word count.
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La Mer
@Making_Fiction #FlashDog
158 words
Under the sea, the microbes feed on the waste; animal remains and organic decay. For they are the forgotten victims of the wars.
Under the sea, the crustaceans look above them, hunted, yet always looking downwards to the food. They hover, hunting, above the sludge.
Under the sea, the plankton goes unnoticed, yet it fill oceans as big as continents and sustains creatures the size of houses. Given the right conditions, plankton glows, pulses and shines.
Under the sea, the sharks go where they please. Their predatory eyes always scanning. They are the politicians of the war-ravaged region that feast on lobster, oysters and caviar.
On the sea, a boat. It bobs in the undulating waves; it’s at the mercy of the perpetually changing tides.
Above the sea, the exiled king sits. He casts his net but dredges up nothing but murky water. One day the net will close and he’ll catch the sea, and everything in it.
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Love the repetition and juxtaposition of the the words. Really well done, Mark!
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Thanks Rasha, really appreciate the kind comments.
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You drew me in from the get-go and held me until the end wanting more. That last line is a thing of beauty.
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Thanks Brett, far too generous. With much gratitude – Mark
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Ooooooooh that’s good!
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Thanks Liz – hope you’re doing the challenge this week.
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I don’t know how you manage such high quality every single week! I am very envious. This is wonderful.
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Thanks Marie – trust me, this is the other way round, ’tis me that is envious of you.
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Nice format Mark. Loved the slow rise from the very depths.
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Thanks BC. I had the sea ecosystem in my mind and comparing it to society, viewed from above by the king – if that makes sense. Goodness knows how this things come about in my mind.
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That’s a big story in such a small space. Nicely done Mark.
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Neat.
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I love the way you build this whole world from microbes to man. Beautifully done and haunting.
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Fascinating technique here with the repetition and the evolution of the prose. Love the last lines.
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Enjoyed the circle of life theme… beautiful ending – fine work as usual Mark.
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I love the last line, and the image it created in my head. Great stuff!
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I love the two kingdoms – the kingdom under the sea (deliberately forcing ditties from The Little Mermaid from my mind) and the one above it – the exiled king in his empty lust for followers. Loved it. Great job!
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Thanks Tamara, you’re the undisputed queen of feedback and generosity. Well spotted, for some biizarre reason I had music in my head the minute I saw the picture. It was La Mer / Beyond the Sea but then it sort of morphed a bit (but without me even realizing it) 🙂
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Family Business
My hands are chapped and red from the cold. I turn my equally wind stung face back toward the wind, repelled and satisfied at the same time. The salty air speaks of my ancestors as it robs me of my beauty.
My father stops the boat and we gather our nets in silence, the wind orchestrates our work.
I brave words that will sting more than the cold air.
“I’ve heard talk in town that Andrej will be raising taxes again for the fishermen.”
It aches and relieves to say his name out loud.
My father spits into the sea, his only statement.
My father is ashamed to bring his daughter in his boat, to displace her from her post in society. But he is more ashamed to have borne a son whose quicksilver words and heartless ambitions keep our people poor.
My father’s hands are soon bloody and yet I know he considers his work cleaner than his son’s.
160 words
@CaseyCaseRose
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Can really feel this one. The hatred and the disappointment on the part of the father, the struggle of the girl and her feelings toward two important people in her life. Well done. A vivid picture.
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Thank you very much, Tamara.
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Oh, the way this takes off halfway is great! What a closing line.
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Thank you! It was almost along the lines of “makes civil hands unclean” but it sounded too familiar 😉
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Great title. There’s a fantastic intensity to this piece that I love.
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Thank you very much!
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This is great. I wonder about the backstory. What drives Andrej?
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Thank you. I wondered about that too while I wrote, if Andrej was a sociopath or if there was a darker history with his father or another fisherman.
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Ooh, I love this. Very good imagery.
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Many thanks 🙂
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Wonderful images. I can see the daughter and father. Feel their shame and sorrow over heartless Andrej. Nice job.
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Thank you. I so appreciate your comments.
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Interesting story, and a great last line. Some lovely writing here too.
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Thank you very much.
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That final sentence really elevates this for me. ‘It aches and relieves to say his name out loud’ is as haunting a line as any in a great piece .
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Thank you very much, good sir!
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Amazing story. I love that you made me hate Andrej so fast. You built up a great villain in such a short time frame.
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Thank you very much!
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So much pain, in so many forms, tied up in this small tale – a great accomplishment. Well done.
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Thank you for such high praise, I really appreciate it.
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Ten Minutes
158 words
By Laura Carroll Butler
“Okay, there’s these two politicians fishing in a lake…”
Guy #1. This night is not starting out well. I laugh anyway.
Thank God, a break! I touch up my lipstick in the ladies room and prepare for another hour.
Guy #6. “…and they replaced Starbuck with a woman.”
Starbuck? Isn’t that a candy? No, Starbursts. Mmm, those would be good right now. Or some dark chocolate to go with this weak wine. Where is that waiter? I need a refill.
Guy #10. Well, he looks promising and he’s the last one. I think the 7-11 carries those dark chocolate Acai berries. Maybe the tenth time is the charm.
********************************
Chick #10. She looks as bored as the last nine. I need to switch it up or this night is a bust. A joke…that guy in the men’s room told a joke at the break. Let’s see….
“So there are these two politicians and they’re fishing on this lake…
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Haha, what a great take on the prompt. Make me laugh. I enjoyed this. Also, loved the alliterative “…to go with this weak wine. Where is that waiter?” 🙂 Brilliant.
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Thank you!I’m glad it made you laugh.
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Very good. Great take.
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Thank you!
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Fantastic. What an original and hilarious take on the prompt. Well done Laura.
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Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
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Clever way to use the prompt, and so much fun to read.
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Thank you!
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Making Waves
By Gavin Parish (@GavinParish)
160 words
A political commentator had once called him ‘deep, like the sea’. He remained calm whatever challenges came his way. People only ever saw what was reflected on the surface, and they took it for transparency. Here was a man they could trust.
Yet if they had been somehow granted access to the hidden depths, they might have recoiled from what they found there. Secrets in the dark – unnatural, unimaginable, twisted and abhorrent in nature – buried in the embracing sands of the ocean floor.
Nobody was to know there was a tsunami coming. On a still day before the storm, the fishermen found the long-dead corpse floated to the surface, freed from its anchoring chains. There was a formal investigation. Forensics software revealed a face known to all.
The imposter knew he had been doing a far better job, but it counted for nothing now. He retained his outward calm to the end, as he typed in the nuclear codes.
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Wow! I can’t wait to read this in novel form. Nanowrimo’s coming up. I’ll be a beta-reader if you like. 🙂 This was great!
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Thanks! Not sure if I could stretch it out to a full novel but I had fun deciding on the ending.
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Excellent character building.
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Wow! A lot going on off-scene here. I’ll keep an eye open for the novel.
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Oh wow. What an ending. Great story with a wonderful twist.
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So much going on here in very short flash. Good stuff.
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Thanks everyone for such encouraging feedback! 🙂
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I really like this.
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Clever! I tried for ages to get a story about something being found in the net, but I couldn’t come up with anything good. This is the story I would’ve dreamed of writing. Excellent work.
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The Heir and the Spare
@stellakateT
159 words
The only two men on earth and they’ve both gone fishing in the same boat! Have they not heard of that rule, the heir and the spare never travel together? Not sure why they were chosen as the last two men. One is the Prime Minister and the other is my husband. In reality the only man to propagate the human race will be the PM unless someone knows how to surgically operate on my man.
Some strong woman will have to hold him down he’s not keen on Doctors at the best of times. Not that I’m bothered it’s been years since my womb shrivelled up. Not sure why I was chosen to be one of the survivors God must have a sense of humour!
Wonder how long they will be gone?
It’s getting dark and I can hear animals circling the house.
Thank God he chose these women to find me, they can multi-task. I’ll be safe
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Quite an interesting take on it. Enjoyed “the heir and the spare.” Great job.
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I love they are the only two men on earth. What a great take.
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Thanks 🙂 except I’ve now realised it should be procreate not propagate mixing up flowers with babies 🙂
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Well done Stella. For my second one, I’d been thinking about apocalypse (undead on the boat), so it’s nice to know I’m not alone 🙂
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I’d love to know what happened for the world to end up in this situation! Nice job Stella.
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So much to think about here. What an interesting story full of twists and surprises, and a great creative take on the prompt.
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I really like this story. It’s an end of the world tale, but its still on the light side. Also, I wonder if the men made it back??
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Survival Of The Best
@_HannahHeath
160 words
Trítous stared at the other two men in the boat. “No! This is wrong. I will not kill to become president!”
Gáidaro smirked. “It is the will of the people. The best will survive tonight’s trial and be elected.”
Eléfantas clenched his fists, eyeing Trítous, the smallest of them all.
Trítous shook his head fiercely. “It is wrong!” He threw himself overboard.
Trítous’ splash sprinkled silver water against the darkness. Gáidaro turned to face Eléfantas.
Eléfantas pitched forward, sending the boat lurching and forcing his opponent off balance. Pulling a gun, he carefully aimed and fired. Gáidaro fell backwards. Red tendrils licked the surface of the black water.
Throwing the gun away, Eléfantas rowed quickly to shore. Jumping from the boat, he waved at the crowd. “The best has survived!”
It was then that he caught sight of Trítous, dripping wet and smiling. He felt somebody grab him roughly. Handcuffs clicked.
The people cheered. “Trítous! Trítous!”
The best had survived.
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Nice twist at the end. Enjoyed that. Just a tinge of Hunger Games – “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Excellent.
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Thank you!
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another story with a moral ……. excellent 🙂 liked it very much 🙂
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Hurray for the small one! Love the red tendrils on black water. Well done Hannah.
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Thank you David and Stella! I’m happy you enjoyed it. =)
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Nice twist. I love the names here.
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I’m glad you liked the names! They each have VERY special meanings. 😉
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GONE FISHING
@hollygeely
158 words
“Where’s Jenny?”
Bill showing up at my door didn’t surprise me, but I wasn’t glad to see him. Jenny had asked to stay with me for a while, since Bill had been “different” since he got elected.
“Hey, idiot. I asked you a question.”
Bill never liked me. I can’t say that I care.
“Jenny went fishing,” I said. I pictured her casting a net out of the little boat. She seemed lonely so I put myself beside her. I reached for her hand and kissed it. She looked into my eyes and said…
“Why the hell would she go fishing?”
I hate Bill. He ruins all of my fantasies.
“I’ll tell her you stopped by,” I said, and I closed the door in his face. I went back to the little fishing boat in my mind so Jenny could finish her sentence.
“I love you, Sarah,” she said, and for a minute I believed it was true.
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Loved how you set this up. “Bill” was very well portrayed; great job with this.
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Thank you!
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Really like this: sharp, punchy, bitter aftertaste.
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Thank you!
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It’s good to have a friend to turn to in difficult times 😉 Great setup. Well done Holly.
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Glad you enjoyed it 😉
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Sweet, and sad, and a very clever, well-written story.
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Thank you!
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Van Demal
An equitable tender
160 words
The sun mints coins on the water. It mesmerises, steals my equilibrium.
This has been our living for generations. This is currency, my father would say, a net full of quicksilver in the boat. This is food on the table. You can’t eat those dreams in your head. You can’t spend those numbers in your laptop. You can’t make money out of nothing.
He was right – not about making money out of nothing, about me not being able to. You need power for that. Political power, business might. Now I can’t even pay my electricity bill.
If only it were currency. I’d need a hundred nets to get clear, a thousand. Who can afford fish now? Who except the politicians – but where are they? Behind their big walls in their big houses, waiting; the fishers of men.
It looks inviting, that glinting realm, an equitable tender. I could just step out, over the edge, into something new. Just one step…
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Oh, I love this. The rock-hard symbolism in the beginning paragraph, beautifully done. Great job.
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Great word choices!
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“The fishers of men” powerful stuff, beautiful to read.
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Oh Van, another cracker.
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I love how the language and the concept. Great writing.
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Fantastic opening line – I want to steal it! And yes I go with the notion
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The opening sentence is beautiful and it just gets better from there. Great stuff Van.
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Powerful, and beautiful. Such wonderful writing. Great story.
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This is so beautiful. Such powerful imagery! It really worked my emotions. Amazing job!
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Beautiful language here. Love this one.
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“You can’t eat those dreams in your head.” Damn, that was a punch to the gut. Well-done. Loved your story. “Fishers of men,” so gooooood. My favorite of the week of what I’ve read so far. I could keep rambling on…
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LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER
@hollygeely
160 words
Robert’s ex-wife the super-important mayor dropped the kids off Friday without any warning. He took them to the lake and they got high on all the fresh air and had a hard time listening to him.
“What did I tell you? You never go fishing without me, especially at night!” Robert said.
“But I caught one,” Blythe said, holding up the net.
“She was amazing!” Brayden said. “He told her to throw him back in but she got him.”
“Fish don’t talk, Brayden.”
“This one did,” Blythe said. “He said he’d give us three wishes, so I told him I wished for three dinners and hit him on the head with a rock.”
She put the fish on the table. It was a big one, and though he was still angry, Robert was impressed.
“You still have two wishes, if you want,” the fish said in a weak voice.
Robert screamed and hit it on the head with a rock.
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Here I sit giggling in my chair. Well done. I loved the humor. Also, “…they got high on all the fresh air.” I’ve got three kiddos, and boy, does that line resonate. 🙂
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I don’t have any kids but I’ve witnessed the phenomenon 😉
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Ha ha! Poor fish. Fun story.
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Thank you, Gavin.
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Haha! That is great! (two kids, can just SEE it)
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Thank you, I’m glad I got it right. 🙂
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Funny!
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Thanks!
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Ha! I could picture this scene so clearly in my head. Well done Holly.
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Thank you!
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I greatly enjoyed this tale, the failings of adult imaginations are some that deeply resonates with me 😉
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Thank you, glad you enjoyed it.
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I’m still giggling. Funny story.
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Glad you enjoyed!
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Since the original fairy tale with the talking fish doesn’t end so well, I think hitting the fish on the head is a good move. I love the humor here.
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Thank you 🙂
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Just creased up at the weak fish’s reply! Great ending and tie up with the title.
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Glad you enjoyed it!
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Hunt(er)
He was out alone to have the time to think.
(The time to drink)
He liked the heft of the gun in his hand.
He raised the double barrel and shot a duck.
(Shot a man, a man)
He heard the squawk
(No, the cry)
And the splash of his prize.
(The sound of his crime)
“I shot and killed a duck!” He cries out into the empty room.
(A man, a man, a man, a man, a man!)
His fixers, spokespeople, and aides have woven such tidy webs of lies that they have cocooned even his mind.
They conspire for him; his mind against him.
But echoes
(Guilt)
tear through the sticky threads from time to time.
Another hunter shot a man in a boat by mistake. All the newspapers said so.
The congressman shot a duck.
(A man.)
140 words
@CaseyCaseRose
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So, so much to love here. I was a psychology minor in college; disassociation was one of my favorite studies. Beautifully written, different from the norm. I nominate this one for one of the finalists.
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A psychology minor! Very handy for writing, and maybe exploring the human psyche is why so many of us write 😉
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Clever, and believable!
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Thank you!
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This is fantastic.
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Thank you 😊
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Ooh, this is super, reminds me of the Ancient Mariner where you have the gloss at the side
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Thank you! And thank you for giving me occasion to look up the Ancient Mariner, quite the poem.
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Whoa, this is awesome. I got chills.
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Thank you!
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Different and full of clever twists. Brilliant writing.
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Thank you. I think any of us gets excited when we’re called different, so thank you again.
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Oooooh, such juicy juxtaposition between “reality” and REALITY. Love it.
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Thank you! If I ever become a rapper I think I’ll have to be called Juicy Juxtaposition and I’ll give you all the credit.
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Wonderful technique, using the parentheses. Beautiful language. LOVE this story.
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Thank you very much, greatly appreciated coming from a master of beautiful language.
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Cancel what I said about your first story:
They conspire for him; his mind against him.
Brilliant!
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Noted and canceled!
Many thanks 🙂
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adored both the imagery and the technique … really evocative
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Thank you so very much!
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I like this. In my head it turned into a song.
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I went back and re-read it and can totally see what you mean. Thank you for that insight!
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Such an interesting and effective structure! Doublespeak at its finest…
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Thank you! Doublespeak is the perfect word for this politician in particular.
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Fishing for Votes (156 words)
Jay Dee Archer
@jaydeejapan
The motorboat parted the coastal waters of the northern Pacific Ocean. Two fishing rods bobbed with the motion of the waves.
“Tell you what, Carl,” said the thin man. “If you catch something impressive, I’ll back you.”
Carl smiled and leaned back in his seat. “You know I’ll win, Jeff.”
“We’ll see. You’re an amateur at this.”
“I may just have raw talent,” he said as he noticed his rod bending down and the left. “This amateur’s got something.”
“Beginner’s luck.”
Carl snatched his fishing rod and reeled in the fish. He pulled up and grunted. “It’s a big one.”
“Probably seaweed,” Jeff said, laughing.
Carl fought the fish, but slowly, the fishing line came up from the depths. The fish slapped its tail on the surface and Carl pulled it in.
“Damn, it’s a king salmon. I guess I’ll have to back your nomination for party leadership.”
Carl grinned. “Too bad I can’t be king.”
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I like the back and forth dialogue feel of this, and the idea behind it – fishing for votes. Great job.
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Thanks. Glad you like it.
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Very good dialogue. Very easy atmosphere.
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Thanks. It’s appreciated.
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This story sneaked up on me with all the clever word play. Good job!
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Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it.
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Great concluding line, and excellent scene-setting throughout. 🙂
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Thanks!
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Making Mother Proud
@_HannahHeath
160 words
Mother taught me never to use foul language. But when Bill came home that night, it was all I could do to keep from cursing at him.
He promised he would remember. Promised it would be the best anniversary we’d ever celebrated.
And then he didn’t come home after work until past midnight. He smelled like fish.
“Bill,” I said, “Didn’t you forget something?”
Bill’s eyes grew as round as the fish I knew he had left in the car and his face became as white as their bellies. “Oh, honey, I didn’t forget! I promise! I just had to stay late at work. Deadline. You understand.”
“You didn’t go fishing tonight, did you darling?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to see what he would say.
“Of course I didn’t, dear,” he lied. “Gee, you look beautiful.”
I was furious. So I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Why you…you…POLITICIAN!”
Mother would have been proud.
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Love the punchline!
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Thank you! I had fun with it. =)
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Lol. Politician as a four-letter word. Loved this.
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Haha! I think I’ve found a favorite substitute swear word. =)
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I love that penultimate line – good show 🙂
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Oooh. I learned a new word today! “Penultimate.” Thanks! I’m glad you liked it. =)
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hahaha, cute!
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Oh my sides!!!! You did it again!! Most excellent dear Hannah!! Fab, fab, fab!
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Yay! Thanks!
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Title: Treaty of Vis
Words: 157
@RTayaket
rashatayaket.wordpress.com
“It’s a merger.” I said, struggling to row the boat. I had never had a political meeting in a boat.
“You mean a takeover?” He defended, casting the net into the water. I was roasting in my suit out on the water.
“An alliance. Align with us to fight the Axis occupation of Yugoslavia.” I said impatiently. It’s a war, not a tea party.
“I have one question.” He said. I struggled with the paddles.
“You expect our aid. Where were you when we called for your help?”
I stopped rowing. The man in the boat had entered my chambers in London ten year ago. Rumor had it he had been killed in Marseille; but former king Alexander was here in the flesh. He had not been assassinated, but was hiding in plain sight in his own kingdom.
“I will sign your treaty. But rest assured, Mr. Churchill, you will be dead before this war is over.”
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Clever – I love alternate history-type tales. I really enjoyed this!
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Thank you! Really appreciate it!
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Ooh, killer last line. I liked the set-up. “I had never had a political meeting in a boat.” Great job.
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Thank you!!
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Disposal Team
The two fishermen left port early in the morning, anxious to find the school that’d been lingering in the vicinity. They were poor men, able to afford only a decrepit wooden boat and an old-fashioned, hand-knotted net, which was why they’d created their unique sideline. They used the tide and their oars to get into position, saving their precious and hideously expensive diesel fuel for the return trip.
“There they are!” Jorge shouted eagerly, pointing to the sharp fins slicing through the ocean after the silvery mackerel. He began scooping the bloody gobbets of flesh into the water. The sharks swirled closer, jaws agape. They began to gulp down the fishermen’s “special” chum, then something unprecedented occurred. The sharks turned and swam away at top speed.
“See, I told you so!” Marcus crowed gleefully. “That dirty scoundrel was so rotten that even the sharks turned up their noses at him!”
The radio crackled, “Breaking news, Mayor Zupan has disappeared.”
159 Words
Challenge Accepted: Politician=Mayor
karnemily@yahoo.com
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Great feeding-the-fish story. This felt like a sit-down-children-and-let-me-tell-you-a-good-one type of story, and then it twisted. Liked this a lot. 🙂
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Very good. Liked the build up and then the twist.
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Great set-up and twist. Well done.
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Headlines
@stellakateT
159 words
Wonder what will happen if I push him overboard?
Headline in the Daily Mail ‘Prime Minister drowned. State funeral next week
Who’s idea was this to get us talking?I hate fishing nearly as much as I loathe him. Knowing my luck I’ll push him overboard and then I’d have to attempt to save him and drown in this murky lake.
Headline in the Daily Mail ‘Heroic Deputy saves the Prime Minister… by election announced.
For God’s sake will he not sit down? What! hell no! He’s just caught a huge Chub.
Headline in the Daily Mail ‘Champion fish caught by Prime Minister whilst he talks’.
Does he really expect me to help him remove that hook from the end of his finger?
Headline in the Daily Mail ‘Prime Minister survives terrorist attempt with poisoned fish hook’
“Well PM how’s it going?” “Looks like I’m in for another five years”
Headline in Daily Mail ‘Deputy PM charged with aggravated assault’
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This is great as it builds on itself, from the tiny nudge overboard to the terrorist attempt. Love this. 🙂
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I love the thought process in newspaper headlines, clever and something relatable, I feel like I’ve imagined how my imagined deeds would look as news stories. Brilliant take, as always.
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I love that the Daily Mail has inspired something creative!
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Oh! This had me laughing the whole time! I love the headlines and reading the character’s thoughts. So fun!
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What a great take on this. I love how the story progresses with the increasingly sensational headlines–just brilliant!
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I love Deputy PM’s thoughts and the Headlines. So funny. What an original take! I could almost see it as a Monty Python skit. Great job.
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Great build up, clever use of ‘headlines’ – the ending the clincher.
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Bothe great tales but I think, as you said, Headlines is particularly good. A great device to use. Clever stuff.
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THE FISH WERE BITING GOOD THAT DAY
@voimaoy #flashdog
160 words
The fish were biting good that day when it fell out of the sky. It fell like a raindrop into the reservoir by the power plant. The only witnesses were two fishermen, the Mayor and the Sheriff of the little town, out early to watch the sun rise. It fell without a splash.
The two friends managed to retrieve it. At first, they thought it was a meteorite, but it was too smooth and silvery. It was bigger than a football but about that shape. It was bigger than any fish they had ever caught before.
“Let’s get pictures!” Joe, the Sheriff got out his phone.
Bob, the Mayor, could use the publicity. It was an election year. “How’s this?” He stood next to the thing, smiling proudly, as if it were a trophy fish.
He was smiling as a line appeared in the side of the thing. The line grew longer and wider, and a tentacle reached out.
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Nice ending. Poor Mayor. Really liked the line “It fell like a raindrop into the reservoir.”
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Great story! I couldn’t help but admit to myself that publicity aside, I’d whip out my phone to take a picture and likely find myself in tentacled trouble.
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What a brilliant ending. This is a great take on the prompt and very enjoyable.
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Excellent. Nailed the ending. Well done.
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Excellent story – start,middle,end – complete.:)
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Great fish story. Or something with tentacles tale. Complete in the word count, and very satisfying.
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Enjoyed this immensely – ‘it fell like a raindrop’ was lovely – great ending –
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I love it!
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Gives another meaning to ‘the fish were biting’ – well done! I enjoyed this.
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Thank you, so glad you enjoyed!
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Missing
@EmilyJuneStreet
156 words
Dejan scanned the horizon. Nothing but a fishing dinghy carrying two men. No space to conceal a stowaway. The girl had evaporated like mist on a mirror.
Franjo paced the deck. “You should have caught her on the docks.”
Dejan scowled. Years he’d served as a Cabinet minister, and still they treated him like a thug for hire. “The harbor log?”
“No departures.” Franjo gestured at the distant dinghy. “She’d never use one of those.”
Heir to a defunct throne, Princess Karađorđević usually breathed the rarified air in Belgrade penthouses, more media darling than political threat. But somehow the revolutionaries had seduced her.
“All they needed was a figurehead,” Dejan muttered.
“Maybe she swam.” Franjo glared at the glittering sea.
“Maybe some goddamned sharks ate her.” Dejan swung his binoculars up one last time.
He froze. A fisherman in the dingy turned, flicking a pale braid over a shoulder. No man had such a pronounced waist.
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I like this a lot. It’s a simple set up, and we can guess the end, but it’s handled well.
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Ooh, nice twist at the last line. Makes me want to know how the story’s gonna end. 🙂
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Captivating, it reads very cinematically. I love the last sentence and I want to know what happens next.
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Nice ending! But I kind of wanted her to get away. 😉
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Great ending. Well told.
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@avalina_kreska
The Gods help those who help themselves
160 words
‘The road goes ever on and on…’
‘It’s not the bloody Lord of the Rings you know,’ Goran shouted, miserable from drinking too much Rakia the night before.
Bojan immediately quietened down, Goran (the Mayor) was known to throw people from the boat for the smallest thing.
As the net sailed into the water, Bojan wondered why he agreed to pander to Goran’s whims. They sat back for an hour. Goran played his bisernica and hummed.
Bojan, retrieving the full nets, spotted something shiny, he watched it roll down into the corner of the boat.
‘Anything that falls into my boat is mine. Give it to me,’ said the quick eyed Goran.
Bojan picked up the shiny gutting knife and plunged it into Goran’s heart. Goran gasped.
Bojan picked up the other shiny thing.
‘The road goes ever on and on…’
Bojan reeled from the shiny bullet, the shiny thing falling into the sea.
…
The Gods rolled the dice. Heads.
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Oh, you totally had me from “The road goes ever on and on.” I’m a HUGE fan to Tolkein, specifically LOTR. I loved this, especially the last line. Splendid. 🙂
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Thanks Tamara – all I could see from the prompt was Smegol….
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this is good…. reeled me right in…. 🙂
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🙂
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Love this! I’m a huge Tolkien fan, so I freaked out when I saw the first line. =) Nice twist at the end!
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Glad you liked it Hannah!
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Very good! Loved that ending.
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Thanks Marie 🙂
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super writing – great story.
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Cheers Pam!
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Love this. Great writing and characters. The last line is just brilliant.
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Thanks very much Voimaoy!
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Great story.
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Why thank-you Eliza!
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Nice story. Love the Tolkein references. Good title too.
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Thanks for reading David!
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Another meaty offering from you Avelina. The ending is superb. the repeated use of shiny very effective.
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Thanks David 😉
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That was fun 🙂
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Glad you enjoyed it Holly!
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Fishing with the Queen
158 Words – @Drempunkgeek
“Look darling, you know you love me. We can make anything into a fabulous time… even worms and slimy, dead fish.” Natalie flapped her red manicured nails at the cooler of fish.
“Yes, but did you have to wear high heels on the boat?”
“One does not leave the house unless she is looking her best. Fishing or not, I need to be on my game in case the right man happens to wander into my life.”
Jeremy stared at his friend. “We are in the middle of a lake. There is no one here to fall madly in love with you.”
“Not the point sweetie.” Natalie crossed her muscled legs and smoothed her skirt.
“Unless you are saying you dressed up for my benefit.” Jeremy snickered.
“Oh honey. You couldn’t handle me. I need a real man.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. I should have known better than to take a drag queen fishing…”
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Great mental image. Especially loved the red manicured nails. 🙂 Great job.
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Great twist! Lovely little details ‘muscled legs’ is a great line.
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Fish and Politics
Councilman Applegate accepted the invitation to go fishing with Mayor Stockwell. In the boat the Mayor spoke.
“Allright fish, just get used to this boat being up here. Don’t be afraid of the boat, come and take sheltered in its shadow.”
A moment later he was rigging his rod. “Listen fish, I have worms for you, plenty of delicious fat worms.”
The councilman asked sarcastically, “Are you going to tell them about the hook?”
“No, the fish get discouraged hearing about the hook. Everyone loves the worms, but hates the hook. Can’t help that. It’s the hook that holds the worms in place.”
“Kind of like taxes hidden in city services?”
The mayor gave him a quick sideways glance.
“Fish get discouraged easily with talk like that.”
“We talking about fish or politics?”
The mayor answered slowly. “Is there any difference?”
The councilman suddenly understood why he had been invited.
“Fish on!” the mayor proclaimed as he found success.
159 Words
@CharlesWShort
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Great analogies. Enjoyed this. 🙂
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Thank you. Glad you liked it.
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“fish or politics,” quite chilling, and so true. Well-done!
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Thank you.
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And so it goes. Nicely done.
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The Shark
Two politicians sat in a boat, bobbing in the middle of the ocean.
The only sign of life came from deep within their stomachs.
A shark popped out of the water.
‘I see you’re in a bit of a situation there,’ he chuckled.
‘You know what, if you tell me what kind of fishing rod you want, I’ll go and get it for you.’
The two politicians eyed each other.
‘I’d take an ultra-light rod,’ the first politician said.
‘I’d take a medium-light rod,’ the second politician said.
‘I’d take a rod with slow action,’ the first politician said.
‘I’d take a rod with fast action,’ the second politician said.
‘I’d take a one piece rod,’ the first politician said.
‘I’d take a two piece rod,’ the second politician said.
And so they debated, discussed and deliberated.
After 43 days they died of hunger.
‘Idiots’, the shark thought and he tipped over the boat.
154 words
@bartvangoethem
#FlashDog
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the moral of this tale is….. you always get eaten by a shark 🙂 Great take on the pic prompt 🙂
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simple but effective -well written.
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Awesome. I love the tone. Good for the shark. I’d do the same. 🙂
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Wonderful political satire. 🙂 Well-done!
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A little too close to real life! 🙂
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I absolutely love this. Three cheers for the shark.
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This one will definitely make anyone smile. Unfortunately, there is a lot of truth in the tale.
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Human nature, wrapped up in a neat piece of flash! Well done. 🙂
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NEEDLE IN A HAYSTACK
Brian S Creek
147 words
@BrianSCreek
#FlashDogs
“I’m telling you it’s around here.”
“You tell me a lot of things, Frank. It’s all just white noise.”
“Nice, Jackie, real nice. Is that what twenty years of marriage gets me?”
“You make it sound like service. How about I get you a gold watch?”
“If you got off your fat ass and helped me with this device then we could find what we’re looking for. Then we could buy as many gold watches as we wanted.”
“That contraption ain’t worth the thirty dollars you spent on it.”
“Why did you even come out here?”
“You said something about going to look for a politician. Sounded interesting.”
“No, I said I’m taking the boat out to the channel to look for the wreck of the SS Politician.”
“Well that doesn’t sound interesting at all. Although it does explain why we’re in your boat.”
“I hate you.”
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Great Story! I grew up on Long Island where there are numerous ship wrecks on the South Shore! Fun Imaging!
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Thank you.
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Really good BC. I so want to try a total dialogue piece, just haven’t had the courage yet. It really works for this, good call.
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Confession; the first draft did have description and I didn’t realise I hadn’t included it until I read you comment and then reread the story. Have always wanted to try it thought. There have been some great dialogue only pieces on here in the past.
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Love the antagonism in this. The wife’s misunderstanding reveals the state of their relationship – great stuff
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Complete dialogue! I love complete dialogue entries that tell such a deep story without extra description. Well done. That poor couple. 🙂
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Amazing work–the dialogue is so effective way to tell this story. That last line is horrible, and perfect.
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Ok, that’s funny!
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Great dialogue. Great story.
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Thank you again for the nice comments.
Although I’m still feeling bad about giving our fantastic judges extra work each week, I’m really enjoying working on two stories at the moment.
I’m using the first to go with my gut idea and then the second to try something new. Last week was descriptions and now I went a little more dialogue heavy (although I didn’t realise just how heavy).
Also, full credit to my wife who suggested that the politician could be the name of a boat. She is my muse.
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Clever take, and brilliant use of dialogue. Sad story, though! 🙂
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WITH THE FISHES
Brian S Creek
154 words
@BrianSCreek
#FlashDogs
The body hits the water, floats for a few second, and then descends to the bottom of the ocean. The chains around its battered legs accelerate the journey.
“That’s the last rival taken care off, Mr DeMonet.”
“Good work, Anthony. I can always rely on you.”
Anthony beams with pride.
Mr DeMonet sits at the other end of the boat having watched over the disposal process. He lights a cigarette with his gold plated New York Giants lighter. Family heirloom. Lucky charm.
“I guess that’s everyone taken care of that can prevent your candidacy, Mr DeMonet.”
Mr DeMonet puts his lighter back in his pocket and pulls out a gun. He fires once.
Anthony raises his hands as if that would help. It doesn’t. He is lifted from his feet and sent overboard.
Mr DeMonet moves to the middle of the boat and takes up the oars. “Guess I’ll have to row myself back.”
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Another one in the bag from Mr two great stories every week. Loved the ending. Top work.
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Thank you Mark. ‘two great stories every week’ is actually my middle name’ so that works out well.
Loved your fist piece with the journey up through the ocean. Once I get home from work (it never ends) I’ll be tracking down your second.
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You have such a great slice of character in that paragraph: “Mr. DeMoent sits at the other end…Lucky charm.” Says so much about who he is in such a few words. Great job.
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Great story…. loved the last line and raising his hands as if that would help …. I can visualize that so well 🙂
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Poor Anthony – but he really should’ve seen it coming. Another great tale.
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Impostor
(152 words)
You flirt. I respond. We are not on solid ground yet. The land shifts like water, but I enjoy our courtship.
I fantasise about you. There are endless possibilities in the world I build for us.
Until, I see I was blind. You are not captain of a ship, pilot or altruist. Or anything I’d hoped you’d be!
You’re weak. I got it wrong. I try to ignore you.
I curse myself for things said, things unsaid; for another dead end relationship; for making a hero out of a man; for believing in such a phoney.
Yet, you stalk my thoughts. I can’t get you out of my head.
I concede, but this time I am in control. I throw away cliches.
You will be a fisherman not a politician. You’ll speak from the heart not the podium. I weave a stronger plot. And this time, I write you in a Flash.
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This one has my vote from your two this week. So clever. Ending is sublime.
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Thank you, Mark. Really appreciate you taking the time with my two stories.
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Boom! Done. I. love. this. Fantastic, absolutely fantastic. Scintillating last line. I want to take this home with me.
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This comment has made my day, in fact, week! Thank you so much.
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Clever and surprising. I really enjoyed this one.
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Thank you so much. Thanks for reading the two. Very generous of you.
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Timeless
As the time came for the legislator to view the petition, proposal and five year plan of the oyster farm, my partner and I grew increasingly nervous.
The plan for the oyster farm was ten years in the making- from the nebulous dream to the stark reality of the USDA guidelines, the EPA’s requirements, eco-studies timed with setting up the parameters of the farm.
All of these things fed into the gnawing desire to succeed. Both of our families were Third generation baymen. A pride in our craft and a responsible stewardship for the Sea was not just a part of who we were- it was in our blood. Generations of hard work, perseverance and blood had shaped who we were today.
This was just another example of stoic fortitude that had shaped the Shore, the Sea and us into one entity that was ever moving , but never changing.
150 words
@ Lissette
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Enjoyed this. It encompasses a lot of time in 150 words. Well done.
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Thank You Tamara…It is fiction based on my Family…
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What a beautiful last paragraph. The importance of this to the narrator is so clear. It feels very measured and yet very passionate.
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I’m so moved by stories about family trades and generations of hard work which are threatened by short-sighted politicians and ‘money-men’; I really enjoyed your take on the prompts, and your heartfelt personal story.
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Serpentine
157 words
@lizhedgecock
#flashcat(!)
King Peter II hesitated on the threshold of the boat. Paint flaked from the wood, scales from a snake. But this man was trustworthy, Azinovic had assured him. ‘He will get you safely away.’ A smile rippled across his face. ‘Lie low, wait for it to blow over.’
The fisherman hove anchor, tossed the tangle of rope into the bottom of the boat, and spat overboard.
‘Is it far?’
The fisherman chuckled. ‘Not so far.’
Wind stirred the ripples into waves. The boat pitched and twisted violently. Peter stared at the rope-snake to take his mind off throwing up. Sinuous, slithery, scaly…Azinovic said that public opinion was like a snake. ‘It turns this way and that, it darts when you least expect.’
Peter saw Azinovic smile his slow smile, and a forked tongue flickered out. Bile rose, and Peter’s sumptuous dinner met the waves.
Freed of their tangles, Peter and the anchor came to rest.
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Blimey Liz, that took me by surprise – but in a really good way. You’re so versatile with your writing. Congrats.
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Lovely use of language to create some fantastic images – very enjoyable.
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Love the snake imagery in this. Nicely done.
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Oh, nice twist at the end. Well done. I Love the line “public opinion was like a snake” and the image of Azinovic’s forked tongue.
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Oh, such a good ending and great writing throughout. Well done.
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Nice story. Love the sparse dialogue.
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I love the last line.
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Excellent. Stunning, in fact. My favourite this week so far. Well done!
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Her Illustrious Imperial Highness, Empress Alex of the newly-independent country of Alexandratopia, was muttering quite unladylike things under her breath as she dragged her duffel bag along the beach. She paused to catch her breath, upon which time she realized that as Empress, she could say anything she pleased, and proceeded to excoriate, in no particular order, her mother, her brother, her dog, Mrs. Jenkins her English teacher, Tommy “The Lying Scummy Dirtbag” Anderson and Julie “You deserve him you skanky cow” Mitchell, and the weatherman, who’d made it rain so that she couldn’t go sailing with Tommy.
Not that she’d be caught dead in his boat ever again.
Reaching the dock, Alex flung her bag into the boat with a grunt. “Caught dead,” she thought, and giggled. As she rowed out onto the lake, she tried to find a comfortable position on the bag of heads and failed. Well, as an Empress, at least she could claim diplomatic immunity.
160 words
@drmagoo
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Funny and dark. I enjoyed this. I will be naming the next country of which I’m empress Alexandratopia. ‘Cause it’s awesome. 🙂
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There’s nothing like a duffel bag of heads and diplomatic immunity! Great story.
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‘the bag of heads’ – aaargh! Scarily clever. Well done! I really enjoyed this.
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160 words
@pamjplumb
#flashdog
The Politician
The sea bled into the sky as the day drew to an end. Vincz inched the line over the lip of the boat.
‘Have you still got him?’ asked Col.
‘Shh. Patience.’ Vincz’s back ached but he couldn’t move, couldn’t risk losing this fish. All day they’d waited this legendary character of the deep to visit them in the hope of getting a bite.
Looking into the water, Vincz could see the fish. Labouring in the dying light, its gills blanched. Its eyes rolled. The hook had pierced its lower jaw. Blood from the wound swirled and flashed in the last flints of the sun.
‘Bring him in, why don’t you?’ Col moved forward, making the boat pitch to the left.
‘Damn it, Col.’ Vincz shifted his weight, sucked his lip. Almost. Got. Him. A twist of the line and it ended. Vincz shook his head. Gone.
Col sighed. ‘That’s why they call him the “politician”. He’s a slippery bastard.’
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Beautiful, clear imagery in this. Loved that last line.
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Great ending. Loved it.
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Perfect use of the politician prompt. Loved this!
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@pamjplumb
160 words
#flashdog
Polly and Titian
Seventy summers ago was their first time out. Young and free of worries they had rowed further than their parents allowed, laughing at their fear. Now so old, they worried about their own grandchildren going out too far, though each of them knew these waters as well as any fish.
That first time out, the sun had shone like it does now, picking out each wave for special attention. But they hadn’t noticed it then. Instead, their eyes had feasted each on the other, greedily taking in the beauty in each other’s sparkling eyes, the softness of their teenage skin, the firmness of their eager bodies.
They’d lain in the belly of the boat and clung together, reassured by their shared warmth and the motherly sway of the sea. Dreams of their future, all forgotten now, floated up to the evening sky.
Now Polly and Titian leaned into each other, and smiled, and swayed on the sea.
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Lovely detail, Pam. ‘Picking out each wave for special attention.’
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Thank you.
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Oh, beautiful. Such a lovely thing, a lifelong commitment for another. I really loved the passage of time in this.
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Thanks, Tamara – glad you enjoyed it.
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“the sun had shone like it does now..” A lifetime in your lovely words. What a beautiful story.
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Thank you. I wanted to write something gentle. Glad that came across.
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Lovely. You can really feel the relationship built on love for each other and a shared love of the sea. Well done.
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Vukovar
Croatian girl. With one eye. And born a virtual spastic. Wears a dunce cap of sorts. And has been touched. Inappropriately. By both angels who live in the sky. And the grubby, funereal hands of the town mayor. Her unremembered birthdays. Had candles. That never got lit.
[he made me wear a summer dress with pretty flowers on it and do you know it is tight around my waist?]
She grew up. Slowly. An acutely diffident woman. With a broad aggregate of scars. Crippled by palsy. And bereft of the rudimentary social skills. That one requires.
[there are stones and they are sharp and do you know that they are digging into my feet?]
The dirty war came. And Serbian soldiers hurt her. Beat her. Maimed her. Hung her from the rafters of a shit filled cow shed. And she was forever grateful.
143 words
@Horrorshow_00
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Wow. This is fantastic. The short, sharp sentence fragments cut deep, and that last line. Wow. Well done.
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Thank you so much, Tamara for the generous feedback. I’m in your debt. You’re very kind.
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Disturbing and well-constructed.
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I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment. Thank you very much.
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This is as piercing as your sharp, well-defined sentences and piercing images. Excellent.
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Thank you, Sarah. Delighted that the piece made an impact with you. I’m grateful for your lovely feedback.
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Wow. This really hits hard. Excellent.
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Thank you, David. You’re kind to comment. I’m glad the piece left a mark.
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Interesting stylizing with the fragmented sentences; it works well with the story being told. Killer ending (no pun intended, maybe).
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I appreciate your generosity, milambc. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment.
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This is an impactful story which makes me deeply uncomfortable, but it’s definitely one which sticks in the memory. Great staccato sentences and crisp, unflinching imagery. Effectively brutal.
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Sinéad, thanks so much for leaving a reply. I’m glad that the piece was a difficult read, in all the right ways. I appreciate your feedback.
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Ghosts.
It was overcast on the water again. Menditch was thin, leaning over the bow peering into the murky depths. Brososh was fat, sitting at the stern, watching the lanterns on the shore.
“I count fifteen. That’s the whole town council.”
Menditch turned. “Good. Our corrupt politicians must be worried we’ll find the bodies.”
Brososh still wasn’t used to seeing his friend this way. He wrenched his gaze away from Menditch’s forehead. “What if they try to stop us?”
Menditch laughed. “We have power. I heard them talking. The superstitious fools think there are ghosts out here.”
“What if we don’t find the bodies?”
“Done. I see them right below us. Now to expose those…”
Brososh abruptly stopped his habitual chest rubbing and pointed. “They’re coming! They have boats!”
“Let’s give them something to wonder about.”
Brososh stood. Menditch shimmered and faded until even the bullet hole in his forehead disappeared. Brososh followed, fingering his chest hole.
@rfmaraz38
156 Words
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Ooh, nice twist. The only one so far from the perspective of a ghost. Great job. 🙂
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The characters are so vivid, and I love the twist at the end. Very nice 🙂
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Fishing
“Try throwing the net out on the other side.”
“Very funny,” George replied. “Do you want to walk home?”
“Just saying, son.”
George cast the net out again, but this time to his left. “Are you sure there’s fish here?”
“Sure was last time I was here. Caught some good mackerel.”
“Well there don’t seem to be any now, Pops.”
“Just keep casting and believe. They’ll come soon enough.”
“I dunno; maybe climate warming has killed them all off?”
“What the hell! You cannot believe that!”
“Of course not… Well, I dunno.”
“Oh come on! Anyway you don’t want to let them little fishes hear you say that or they’ll believe it and we’ll catch zilch! Hey son, listen; you can make people believe anything you want them to. You get enough of them believing and you can lead a nation.”
The boat tipped slightly to the left.
“See George,” said the old man, “the net’s getting heavy.”
@CliveNewnham – 158 words
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Clever.
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Interesting take. Nice twist on it. Nicely done. 🙂
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Nicely done.
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Kathy Maffei
@elfenkate
#flashdogs
159 Words
A Last Afternoon
The boat bobbed and ebbed, slow and methodical. Joe looked over at the older man across from him.
“Aren’t there things you should be doing?
The old man looked up at the marshmallow clouds in a quiet sky.
The tattered Yankees hat sat shading his eyes.
His hand dipped into the water, small circles spread from the spot.
“Probably. But none so important.“
Joe watched him. “You’ll still see the clouds you know.”
“Yeah. But I’ll bet they’re a heck of a lot nicer being under than over.” The old man smiled at him. Joe knew that was true.
The mood suddenly broke with the rod’s loud spinning. The thin wire tightened and slacked until finally the desperate creature was pulled into the boat. The old man ran his hand over the slick scales. Gently cradling it, he lowered it back home..
“Well Dad, maybe you can be the President who brings the White House back home to Earth.“
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Really loved the imagery here. “…marshmallow clouds in a quiet sky…his hand dipped into the water, small circles spread from the spot.” Lovely.
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Fishing Expedition
James McDeery pushed open the door, waded through the warm rush of urine-stained air and, head cowed, scanned the room. One of the stalls was marked occupied and in his periphery he could see a figure at the urinals, swaying slightly, as if he was about to slump to the floor with the rest of the filth.
He hesitated before approaching the man. His Loakes stuck to the tile and his digust bounced from the sweating walls until it fell upon the man’s loathsome frame.
‘You came, then?’
James recoiled. ‘Clearly. So?’
‘It’s going through.’
‘You’re sure? 100%?’
‘Keep your voice down,’ the man hissed.
‘Okay, okay. Tomorrow’s front page?’
‘Already written, Minister.’
He looked up to meet the bone-cold stare of the suited man.
‘I’ll be in touch.’
The creature slouched away, leaving James to piss away his betrayal.
In the cubicle, unnoticed, the recording was stopped.
148 Words
@_sarahmiles_
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Really enjoyed this – great imagery and smell!! Urgh! Well done.
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Thanks, Pam. Can I make it clear that I do NOT frequent Mens’ toilets. Really.
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So very, very vivid. I hate public restrooms anyway; you had fantastic description that made me writhe. Great job.
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Thanks, Tamara.
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“piss away his betrayal…” Great line! Well done.
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Nicely oblique take on the ‘fishing’ prompt – great story.
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The Fisher King
by A J Walker
The politician was not a religious man, but he was sure this freezing hour was ungodly. The fisherman smiled at his uncomfortable passenger as he rowed up to the buoy.
“I tell you,” he said, “You will not be disappointed my friend.”
As he tied off the boat to the buoy, then started to pull up the net, two ducks in single file flew directly over the boat as if on reconnaissance.
“This will be worth my fortune, I am lucky guy,” he said, “You? You will make of it what you will.”
A solid bell-like toll reverberated through the flat stillness as something hit the boat. The fisherman beamed his gap filled smile, his single gold tooth twinkled a tiny sun.
“So my friend, I give you the famous crown jewels,” he said holding up the treasure. “Maybe I’ll be a rich man now. Maybe you find a prince and be a kingmaker.”
The politician calculated his possibilities.
(160 words)
@zevonesque
#FlashDogs
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Interesting take. I liked that first line; caught my attention. The last line wrapped it up with intrigue. Enjoyed it. 🙂
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I’d enjoy this for the title alone. 🙂 I loved the fisherman’s dialogue and the descriptive details.
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The Meeting
Todd flatters himself skilled with words – prevaricating politician – able to turn more than singular phrases; knowing he needs them today, as he walks the corridor, doors ajar to hear him pass. His gut precedes him, ensuring his arrival is marked by the eyes of those likely to form his strongest opposition. Some meet his gaze as he walks, fishing for answers to the unspoken question, ahead of time. They are faced down – masterfully, he feels – by his non-committal look, honed in his face off in front of the mirror last night. He is ready for whatever line they may take in their interrogations. Settling himself into the chair at the front of the room, facing the long lines of plastic set at intervals, he waits for the spaces to fill. They file into place; chatter dimming as the second hand clicks into place; expectant.
“As I know you all appreciate…” Todd begins, taking another breath, before group interceding occurs.
(160 words)
@FallIntoFiction
#FlashDog
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I love the sideways “fishing for answers” relation to the picture. Love the tone of this. Well-written!
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Brilliant characterisation. ‘faced down …by his non-committal look’ excellent.
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A great insight into the ‘behind the scenes’ of a politician’s mind – I particularly love the line about honing his face off in front of the mirror. Practiced guile is the worst kind!
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Silent Voters (159 words)
I’m a fisherman, like my father and my grandfather. I go out every night and cast my net till dawn. I get a pittance at the market for my hard work and sleepless nights.
You like fish. You pay high prices at the restaurant, while my family can hardly make ends meet. You wear designer suits, and drive a comfortable car. What can you offer us?
You say you want to spend the night with me, on my little boat. You bring warm, waterproof clothes and boots, and the reporters take our picture.
Tomorrow the news will parade your empathy with the poor. You want me to nod, and smile, while the cameras record from the shore.
Tonight you will meet the others, the nameless, countless fishermen, who lost their lives for their families, and their country. Ask them to vote for you, when you join them at the bottom of the sea.
Wave goodbye.
Your journey ends here.
@LucciaGray
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Ooh, shivers! I love those last couple of lines, and the title. Well done!
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Thank you for your comment:)
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Love the way the ending creeps up on you here. Well done.
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What a great story. I really like this one.
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Thank you 🙂
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The frustration is palpable here. Such a great story.
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Thank you so much for reading and commenting 🙂
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“Finding Peace”
by Michael Seese
160 words
Each dawn gives birth to more than just a new day. She also spawns hope.
My father taught me to fish these waters, as his father taught him. I now share the secrets with my brother. The recipe, though, is no secret.
Patience and understanding.
Patience.
You can’t simply cast a line, pull it back, and expect to find a fish obediently attached to your hook. You must finesse it. Work it. Gently, slowly…perhaps painstakingly so. But there must be movement. The universe never rewards inertia.
Understanding.
The waters can be treacherous. Unforgiving. But if you learn to read the currents—and time your journey to take advantage of their grace—you may navigate them safely. Without fear. Such bravery begets a contagion known as confidence.
Let the politicians say we are enemies. Let them say what they will. I say a son of Israel and a son of Palestine can be brothers. I say all sons can.
With patience and understanding.
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Oh, I love this. “I say a son of Israel and a son of Palestine can be brothers. I say all sons can.” Chills. Nicely done.
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Lovely. Wonderful line: “The universe never rewards inertia.” Excellent writing as always.
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I say you’re right – if only we’d give one another a chance to live in peace. Great, timely and touching story.
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Death Blow
John Mark Miller – 160 words
@JohnMark_Miller
“So long, Senator,” Hugo whispered solemnly as the ocean hungrily swallowed the writhing body. Amazing, how fast it was all over.
Hugo felt the other man’s eyes on him.
“Well done,” the man murmured quietly. “Of course, he would have made a terrible politician.”
Hugo froze. “What?”
The man smiled grimly. “He answered our questions outright. A real politician would have strung us along, let us believe we were getting what we wanted, while waiting to deliver his death blow.”
Confusion spread across Hugo’s face, then vanished as the man pulled a gun.
“Wait…you told me he was the senator…”
The man smiled. “I lied, Hugo. Would you expect any less from a politician? Thank you, by the way, for showing me where your true loyalties lie.”
Hugo gasped, and the senator delivered his death blow with cold, unfeeling precision.
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Unexpected twist, but I liked it. Caught me off-guard. 🙂 Too bad, I was hoping there was actually such a thing as an honest politician. 😉
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Great twisted ending. I liked it.
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Chilling, and believable, and expertly depicted. Well done!
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Fisher of Men
160 words
@theshakes72
“We have become fishers of men.”
His words hung in the salted air. Vacuous.
“And where shall we start?” his companion eventually asked.
“The enclaves. The high grounds,” he stated with sincere enthusiasm.
“They want food. Shelter. Antibiotics and immunisations. They don’t want *us*.”
His companion, a former aide, was becoming a belligerent bore; as monotonous as the waves.
“The people need government. The people need politics.”
A soundbite for seagulls.
His companion mumbled.
“What’s that? Speak up.”
“I said: in politics, stupidity is not a handicap.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“It was politicians who lied as the world warmed. Politicians who talked as waters rose. Politicians who did nothing but apportion blame as our cities drowned.”
“*Our* cities is it? Voice of the people now?”
The aide’s face never faltered.
He drew a final, brine-filled breath as his aide held him under; bulging eyes glimpsing tops of mighty skyscrapers far below in the voterless abyss.
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well worth waiting for….. well written…. its one of my favourites 🙂
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“A soundbite for seagulls.” I loved that. Great structure, tone, set-up.
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That last line clinches it so well: “voterless abyss”. I loved his earnestness. He believes his own soundbites, as despicable as they are. Of course, loved the aide, who couldn’t help but grow some kind of conscience through all this, so had me cheering on a drowning.
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Really like this. You’ve covered such a lot in those 160 words. Great turns of phrase that others have also pointed out, and I also loved ‘brine-filled breath’. Excellent writing.
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I guess there are no winners in politics… great image-rich language, and a tense, well-constructed piece.
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Subaqueous Homesick Blues
Seb adjusted his footing on the undulating rowboat as the net taunted his callused grip. His shoulders complaining from hauling another seaweed slick disappointment up from the depths.
‘Nothing?’ Arch asked.
Seb shook his head.
‘Fuck it,’ Arch spat into the sea, ‘so what’s that today? Ten fish, some plastic shit!’
‘The Senate will understand.’
‘Yeah and one day they’re going to get their hands wet. No, reckon the lash this time.’
Seb slumped, the boat rocking in response, ‘we could go …’
‘Where precisely? Hell boy if its not the lash its exile, now stop talking stupid and grab an oar.’
The rhythm of wood slicing water broke the silence as they followed the meager assortment of vessels that comprised the scavenger fleet. In the distance the Senate’s oilrig lay squat on the horizon.
Weary and anxious, Seb gazed at the dark shadows that glided beneath them. Daydreaming about living within submerged towers that had once pierced the sky.
@imageronin
160 words
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My favorite line: “His shoulders complaining from hauling another seaweed slick disappointment up from the depths.” I enjoyed this. 🙂
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thanks Tamara …
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Chilling vision of the future. Great job as always.
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cheers Sarah, really pleased you liked it …
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What a coincidence that submerged skyscrapers figure in these two consecutive tales (are y’all hanging out together?) Loved the lyrical language (wood slicing water, oilrig squatting on the horizon, seaweed slick disappointment) tangled in their stark dialogue. My favorite image still has to be the dark shadows of the skyscrapers gliding under them.
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Weird huh? Seems me and the esteemed scribe that is Shakes were on similar wavelengths this week … delighted that you liked the imagery …
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Great imagery and dialogue. I particularly liked: ‘Where precisely? Hell boy if its not the lash its exile, now stop talking stupid and grab an oar.’
I want more of this world, especially with the submerged towers. Well-done, sir.
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Thanks sir, am tempted to return to those towers at some point in the future and see who I might find lurking!
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This is great. What a vision of the future. Love the submerged towers especially.
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Scary window into a future that’s looking more and more likely by the day… great story.
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liked the title shades of Bob Dylan :)….you and Dave both have submerged buildings in your minds… … like Mark and I envisaged the end of the world too …. another great story 🙂
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thanks Stella, I was determined to find the right title this week, recently having a barren run re enticing titles, so really pleased you liked it …
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The Post-Election Drag
Evan Montegarde
159 words
Slobodan and Radovan had been dragging the bottom of the Adriatic Sea all morning. Their tattered net coming up with angry eels, tires, condoms, bottles and the occasional surprised fish.
“One would think if they really wanted to recover him, they’d send a bigger boat?” Slobodan thought aloud. Radovan shrugged as he threw the net over the side yet again.
Hours later and a half-dozen icy Karlovačko beers in, Slobodan had another thought. “You know, they always cut the politicians into chum anyway.”
“True.” Radovan agreed as he took a massive sip from the cold green bottle he clutched tightly.
“So perhaps we take this shoe,” Slobodan said holding up a soggy loafer retrieved from the depths, “and say it was Dubravkod’s?”
“Looks like the type he’d wear,” Radovan agreed as he rose shakily to his feet.
Slobodan smiled as he started the motor and headed toward port, “Just wait till the next election, good fishing then my friend.”
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Maybe because it’s late and I get loopy when it’s late, but I hit the floor laughing at “the occasional surprised fish.” Well-written. Enjoyed this.
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Thanks Tamara. I was sort of loopy all day and when I wrote the piece.
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Enjoyable read!
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Excellent. Well done! Great imagery, characterisation, dialogue and realistic detail…
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The sun sparkled like a million election pledges on the water. Jerry restlessly adjusted his line, and then sank back heavily into the boat.
It was nearly over. Two days of nothing but sea, sand… and a rule. No work; no politics.
Jerry slid a weary gaze back to the beach, where his bikini-dabbed wife Kim lay bronzing lazily in the sun. Jerry sighed and closed his eyes. Sticking to the rule hadn’t been easy, and had caused several arguments.
“Dar-ling!”
Jerry opened his eyes to see Kim wading through the water towards him now, her blonde hair ribboning behind her in the sea breeze. “Darling! Caught anything?”
Jerry smiled. He jumped from the boat and leapt playfully towards her. “Only a government minister,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around her.
She placed one hand on his waist. “Steady, darling. Now, are you ready to go? I’m afraid I really do need to start work on my speech.”
158 words
@Donnellanjacki
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The twist caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting that. Great job! Liked some of your phrases: “…bronzing lazily in the sun… sparkled like a million election pledges on the water.”
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What an awesome first line! Clever story.
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Great job Jacki, I was grinning by the clever ending
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Great opening line and loved the little twist!
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real twist in the tale Jacki ….. another good tale …. well done 🙂
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Thanks very much for the comments, as always they are very much appreciated! 🙂
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Great language – and I loved the twist, too. Nice work!
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Autobiographical Brine
David Shakes
144words
The price of fish matters little when you catch them for yourself.
Dave was surrounded by politicians and beaurocrats.
He knew how to fish. He fished well.
So they took him off the boats.
The price of fish overtook the act of fishing.
He sailed his desk across a sea of paperwork.
He tried his best to navigate the choppy waters, but each new government changed the direction; changed the rules.
His moral compass no longer pointed to true north.
He feared he might drown.
A storm so strong arose from nowhere.
The desk overturned and papers scattered.
When dawn finally broke all was calm.
Dave was in uncharted waters.
But he had his rod.
The wisdom of experience replaced the latest statutory guidance.
Once again a fisher of men; he cast out into the future.
His bait was learning.
He prayed they’d bite.
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Love the allegorical symbolism. Reminds me of writing – marketing slowly eats up my writing time. Enjoyed this.
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loved the line sailed his desk across a sea of paperwork …. very symbolic Dave 🙂
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Tight lines. Compelling piece to read.
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Just a Taste
Poppa whistled as he hauled up the traps, his hands turtled in salty callouses.
Mare fumbled to coil the slimy rope. She scowled at the brine dribbling into her sleeves.
They’d been out for hours and barely filled a bucket with runty shrimp.
———
“Who needs fish?” Mare’d complained to Nanna.
The Custodians supplied earthlings with manna, a substance that could become whatever you wanted. Even a stinky monkfish.
“Go with him,” Nanna said, her quilt-soft voice edged in steel.
———
“Poppa,” Mare huffed.
He drew a puck-shaped weight from the trap. “I brought you here for this.” With a deft twist, he popped it open. The golden disk within bore ancient embellishments.
“The family crest,” he murmured.
Mare’s fingers shook. The Custodians forbid nobility.
Warmth somersaulted in her chest. She gripped Poppa’s weathered arm. He grinned at her understanding.
That night, Nanna stewed up the bucket bits. Despite her aversion to fish, Mare relished each bite.
It tasted of autonomy.
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wonderful imagery, can almost smell the brine on the wind …
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Two for two this week (I read your last one first). I love the way you wrap some hard-core nuggets in gorgeous imagery. Great job!
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Thank you! I struggled with these prompts, so I really appreciate the positive feedback.
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Great story but superb last line. Well done indeed.
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Great ending.
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Hit “return” too soon: should have my handle @rowdy_phantom and 160 words.
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Ragasa
Nancy Chenier @rowdy_phantom
160 words
The Adriatic breeze curls around Ragasa and caresses her bruised cheek like an old lover.
So many lovers in those days, flush with flirtation. The accidental brush of a knuckle against a bare shoulder, a smoldering glance across the ballroom.
It didn’t last. Tenuous alliances needed tightening. She believed she’d chosen well: Francois’ charm over Danilo’s braggadocio.
Ragasa winces as the old injury pinches her side. Francois was a cruel husband, his tongue coated in honeyed promises, his silken glove concealing a cudgel. She traded her ball gowns for black weeds—every day of their union a day of mourning.
His death freed her, yet gone were playful seductions of youth. The suitors have traded romance for rapacity. Savo worst of all. His kisses end in teeth. He forces himself upon her, strikes her without contrition. “If I can’t have you, no one can.”
Ragasa limps the length of the sea wall and casts her love over the constant sea.
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Wow, your imagery here is stunning. Beautiful and hopeless at the same time. Well done.
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I always enjoy your feel for language, varied word choices, and careful crafting. Evocative yet simple verbs. Poor Ragasa.
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What beautiful imagery. I love the vision of the Adriatic breeze curling around Ragasa and caressing her bruised cheek like an old lover. A haunting piece.
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I read both and your use of language is just stunning. Wonderful images throughout.
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Beautiful writing Nancy.
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I agree with the others; the mental pictures you paint with words are vivid. Well done.
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Thank you, everyone, for your generous feedback.
Hmm, I wonder if I should rename this one “The City of Ragasa”
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The Ramifications of Political Decisions
by JM6 (159 words) @JMnumber6
“Petar, help me with this side of the net.”
“Again, Aleksandar? Very well.”
“I think the fishing is going to be very poor this year.”
“Yes, I think you’re right.”
“I blame global warming.”
“Bah. You cannot blame nature for being nature. Blame the politicians, like that American president. Not Obama, the one after him. What was the name?”
“Who cares? We took care of our local politicians. We solved the problem, right?”
“Heh. Politicians let big companies do bad things to nature for money. The temperatures rose and the water levels rose and our village is now under water. Yes, we sent our politicians back to our village once and for all, but now we will have a poor year of fishing. Every solution creates more problems.”
“It’s so hard to lure the fish, now that they have all that food down there.”
“Don’t worry. We couldn’t stomach the politicians. I doubt the fish will be able to.”
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Lovely snarky last line. Also loved this line, which rings true: “Every solution creates more problems.” Great job! 🙂
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I love the idea of fish so well-fed and content that they couldn’t be bothered swimming up after the fishermen’s lures! Excellent.
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Sarajevo Spring
@Making_Fiction #TiredFlashDog
156 Words
I am old enough to remember the disparate nations and recall them conjoining like polarised magnets.
I’ve felt the fractal patterns of icy winters recede and melt into the new Yugoslavian spring.
My brothers whispered the exile of the royals when then Nazi swastika smothered the cities and the countryside.
I saw Serbs and Croats and Slovenes. I saw Macedonians, Bosnians and Albanians, they all came they all laughed, loved and flourished.
I heard the birds sing of the impossible, tourists, could such a thing be possible? Until, until…
Ethnic cleansing.
Yugoslavian slaughtered Yugoslavian. Gunfire flashed in the villages. Chemical warfare in the hills. Tanks in the towns. The men and woman in white hats with UN written on them. The trials for crimes against humanity.
The birth of independent nations.
The chainsaw? The chainsaw!
And now, this indignity. I’ve been stripped naked and turned into a boat. And hairy-arsed politicians use me for fishing trips.
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Wow, what a powerful, dramatic history. And then the final line that twists the story. Great job. Love the hashtag. 😉
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nicely done … as always
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Beautiful writing. A very sad historical journey with a wonderful twist. Fabulous.
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Incredibly powerful piece. Well done, Mark.
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Quite an engrossing historical overview. I enjoyed this greatly, well done!
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Loving “the fractal patterns of winter” and the great twist ending. Reminds me of a Christmas story I tell about the three trees…
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The humour at the end makes what came before even more moving. Such a beautiful part of the world, but such a sad and terrible history – you’ve captured it perfectly.
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Catch of the Day
(159 Words)
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my line of work it’s that everyone has secrets. But politicians, they’ve got the nastiest secrets of all.
The would be governor sits across from me, tongue flicking over his chapped lips like a viper on the hunt. “So, we have an understanding?”
“You mind?” I ask, already lighting up. “Mr. Aldrich, I don’t see why an accident that happened over a decade ago should interfere with your campaign. I can see to it that it won’t.”
He breathes a sour sigh of relief.
“Besides,” I add after a long drag, “Even if the Carver kid didn’t fall in on his own, who could blame you? Slandering a man of your stature, one might say he had it coming.”
“That he did.”
His laughter’s the only proof I, and Charlie Carver’s father, need. I reach inside my jacket, pull the gun and fire before the murderer has a chance to stop laughing.
~Taryn Noelle Kloeden
@tnkloeden
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Ooh, chilling, Taryn. You got me at the “tongue flicking over his chapped lips like a viper on the hunt.” Took me straight to Barty Crouch, Jr. when he wasn’t busy drinking polyjuice potion. Great job! 🙂
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Wow! That was a lot of action and character-building in very few words. Great job!
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I love a tale of comeuppance. Well done. 🙂
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Dirty Money
(158 words)
“I always loved this spot.” I smile at my granddaughter, Hope, as she helps to lower me onto the dock’s edge. Within moments she plops down beside me and begins swinging her feet in the air.
“Why?” She peers around. I don’t follow her gaze; instead, my wrinkled hand traces the gnarled and graying planks of memories.
I pull a photo from my pocket. “I snapped this with my first camera.” I hand it to her without looking. I don’t need to. I will always remember the diamonds that danced in the waves that day, bearing the fishermen along on a sea of sunlit fire while the frogs in the rushes around me chuckled and chirped.
Hope’s voice interrupts my musings. “Where’d the lake go, Grandpa?” She tosses a rock into the dirt below the dock.
I half-glance at the weed-choked plain in front of us. “Senator Wantdemoney built a pipeline and sent the water to Urbana County.”
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Aww, love this, Annika! First of all, gorgeous imagery: “…bearing the fishermen along on a sea of sunlit fire while the frogs in the rushes around me chuckled and chirped.” Also, “My wrinkled hand traces the gnarled and graying planks of memories.” Cracked me up at the Senator’s last name. Wistful and beautiful. Left me a teensy bit choked up. 🙂
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Thanks Tamara! I get frustrated with water issues sometimes, especially those that involve innocents who lose much because of other people’s misplaced priorities.
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Great story. Have you been reading the news about the Aral Sea?
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Thanks! yes, I’ve seen news programs about that. Soooo sad. And I’m afraid California waters are heading in the same direction. I’ve been seeing some scary photos.
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Yep, California is in a massive drought, and the Salton Sea is our little Aral. I’m working on a longer length story about it currently.
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“…my wrinkled hand traces the gnarled and graying planks of memories.” Fantastic line! And what a poignant ending.
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Thanks, Taryn. 🙂
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Lovely imagery.
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Than you, Grace!
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And THANK you, too! 🙂 (What I wouldn’t give for an edit button,)
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The Waiting Game
Now watch me cast.
Christ I feel sick.
Notice how the rod reacts as the line dictates?
Breathe, its okay, a routine emergency cesarean that’s what the nurse said. Happens all the time.
Now we wait hoping for a bite.
A name. A name so they both live.
Shouldn’t be long I reckon.
What did Emma want … Thatcher, not going to happen, far too Tory.
Hmm, can feel something teasing.
Something else. Damn where is she?
Ah a bite, now gently we reel it in, gently, teasing.
What’s the nurse carrying, is that my son? Bloody hell he’s so small.
Easy now, this one’s struggling.
Emma should be out by now, then she can meet … Elliot … Elliot that’s what we’ll call him.
Gentle.
Where is she? How can I cope alone?
Gentle.
He’s so beautiful. Must stop crying onto him.
Easy now.
Please, where is my wife?
There, isn’t she a fine specimen?
@imageronin
158 words
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Wow, how interesting – a mashup between the birth and the catch, and how one correlates with the other. Enjoyed this.
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A risky approach! This could have gone badly but worked so well. Excellent dovetailing, and I love your politician. Clever, clever.
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Thanks Street! Was unsure about submitting this tale as it was so unlike my normal writing/style … but the juxtaposition wouldn’t shift from my head till it was written down … Thanks for your comment and feedback really appreciated …
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Whoa, that’s a disturbing superimposition. Psychopomps as sport fishermen–brilliant!
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Yes! Sorry Nec but I was scared for a while that the tale was too oblique for the connection to be made as to the true nature of the fisherman … so delighted with your reading of the tale …
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So original! Love the switching narration. Beautifully done.
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Thanks very much E, not quite sure how I got to that style, and was a bit worried that it was clunky/clumsy/unworkable … delighted however that it worked for you as a reader …
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The dual chronology works really well. That’s not a tear in my eye. It’s not!
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That’s awesome, the tear, not the style …
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I definitely want to be the one fishing!! This worked really well – you really gave birth to… er… something! 😉
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lol, yeah I reckon being the fisherman is the better choice …
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Very unique delivery, but successful. Maybe I’m implying something that’s not there, but is a Higher Power fishing the woman from earth. Seems that way to me.
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Love the way you articulated the implication of something else, Carlos, … I got that too. Great tale Image Ronin!
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Hey guys, as Nec also noticed the fisherman is definitely not of this realm. I was intrigued by the dual theme of waiting/patience (father/fisherman) and the idea of two disparate characters connected by a third (the wife/mother) who remains offscreen as it were, intertwined with the obvious binary of death/birth. Not quite convinced that I nailed it re style but really pleased with your comments and feedback.
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I love how unexpected this is, and how effective. Fantastic juxtaposition of birth and death.
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Josh Bertetta
160 Words
@JBertetta
“HOFFA”
Stephen King says writers need a toolbox. All I have is a goddamn tacklebox and as much as I’d like to reel a reader in with a lure of a title like “Hoffa,” and hook them with some memorable prose, the tacklebox’s from Wal-mart and ain’t worth the five bucks I paid for it.
All I want is to call myself honorificabilitudinitatibus. There’s a story in there right?
I haven’t read the other stories yet and I wonder if anyone will reference “The Godfather.” I won’t. Oops. I just did. And damn it, my delete button’s broken. Believe me, there’s a story in that too. A whopper of a story.
Oh, and I bought my bait at Walmart too. The worms are already dead and all I can catch is this damn cold. (That’s a true story.)
How come if a picture’s worth 1,000 words all I can write is 160?
Why waste your time?
Oh yeah, here’s the politician.
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Brilliant. 🙂 I love it.
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Thanks Tamara…Took a chance of doing something very different with that. Appreciate the comment 🙂
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Haha! This sounds a lot like the way I think when I’m tired or hungry or…actually, I think like this a lot. Love the Stephen King opener! Very fun. =)
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Ha ha! This is just about my state of mind. I love that you parlayed that anxiety and frustration into a flash. Tough week.
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Brilliant. I simply love this. Brave, bold and mentions the maestro in the first sentence. Very, very clever. Are we calling it meta flash?
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David, I like that…metaflash. Was definitely going for a self-referential, almost deconstructive angle. Thanks for the response 🙂
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Your best yet Josh. Coo!
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Thanks Avalina!
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Very clever. Way to think (or write) outside the box.
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Bwhahah! This is great. I needed a good laugh.
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Glad it gave you what you needed 🙂
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That was great fun 🙂
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Hourly Arithmetic
@EmilyJuneStreet
#flashdog
158 words
Betty stared at the television, blank-eyed. The candidates blathered on about tax cuts, mouths gaping and flapping. They might as well have been screaming. A scream was all she had heard for sixty hours.
“Forty-eight hours,” the officer had said calmly, as if it wasn’t her daughter’s body they sought in the lake.
“Forty-eight hours?”
“Statistics show that if a lead on a missing person isn’t found within forty-eight hours, case resolution decreases by fifty percent.”
Betty’s forty-eight had expired twelve hours ago. The presidential debate was meant to distract, but Betty’s gaze crept back to the lakeview window.
Her heart nearly exploded every time the searchers lifted the dredge. It leapt every time the dredge came up empty.
They were bringing it up again. Did they look more labored? Did the winch bear a body’s weight?
She held her breath. The candidates screamed. The reeling seemed to take hours.
Water rained down from the dredge.
Empty.
Again.
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Oh man, I can feel the angst of the woman, the heartbreak and emotional trauma. Loved that first paragraph – it really set up the rest of it. Great job.
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Oh, the image of a 60-hour scream is jarring. Her tension buzzes through every line. So sad and painful and perfectly rendered.
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Powerful stuff. Took my breath away.
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Excellent emotion here! Felt every line and the pacing towards the end lent to the impact of the unfortunate inevitability.
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This is a really good take on the prompt. Super sad. I feel for the mother.
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God, this was so upsetting to read. Poor Betty. Powerful piece of work.
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Wow, heartbreaking! Great emotional work!
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Great take on the prompt. A parent’s worst fear.
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A Refuge
(144 words)
Aaron and Bart sailed happily out into the middle of the ocean. Here was a safe place where they could relax and ignore the constant conflict and wicked words between political parties.
Aaron grabbed the fishing net and cast it into the water. Bart relaxed in the back of the small dinghy. Today, the sky sparkled a clear blue and the salty sea air blew pleasantly around them. The sun, directly overhead, cast a light on the small ripples that eddied around the boat. Some days, however, a fierce wind tore through the air like the long-winded rants of the politicians, only much more beautiful.
All too soon, they had to return to their excruciating jobs of recording the never-ending debates and arguments. Sometimes they wished they could leave the mainland and its politics and never return. But, of course, all things must pass.
By Ian Phillips
Age 13
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Age 13? You got a bright future, kid. LOVED this line: “Some days, however, a fierce wind tore through the air like the long-winded rants of the politicians, only much more beautiful.” Wow. Your imagery is great. Way to go!
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Lovely piece, Ian, so very well done! Like Tamara I felt that the line comparing the wind to “long-winded rants of politicians” really stood out. And I loved the title. Congratulations-and keep writing! 😀
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Well done, Ian. You’ve described the scene brilliantly and you’ve use different senses really well to tell the story. You’ve also given the characters depth and it makes the reader ponder what life holds for them on dry land. Keep writing.
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The last line is excellent – nice satirical ending.
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This is such a fine piece of writing. I like the way you describe things. Keep up the good work! This is a great place to write with, too. 🙂
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I really like the last line.
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Such a gentle power in this story, particularly in its fantastically atmospheric concluding line. 13? I am in awe! Well done, Ian. This was a great, accomplished piece of work.
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Great job, Ian. “all things must pass” is a killer line to end the story.
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You Can Change the World
160 words
As he fished by off the pier, a stranger in a boat called out to him.
“You, there! Do you want to come fish in my boat?”
He’s not the only one who can recruit fishermen.
The young man accepted the offer eagerly.
“My family’s hungry. I need to catch a lot of fish,” the young man said.
“ We’ll catch plenty of fish.”
He’s not the only one who can get fish to jump into a net either.
The young man had that special fire, that gleam of righteous indignation that ignites things to burn. The stranger smiled.
“Didn’t I see you at the rally? For a Bosnian state?”
“I want Yugoslavians free of Austrian tyranny.”
“Pound on their doors then. Make them fight. Do whatever you have to do. Sometimes rebellion is the only choice.”
Of course, there are no guarantees how rebellions end. Free will sucks.
“What’s your name?”
“Gavril. Gavril Princip.”
I knew a Gabriel once..
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What a meaty line: “Sometimes rebellion is the only choice.” Well-painted.
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Clever- the Devil as fisherman. I really like the structure and how things are turned on their head. Loved the concept.
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This is good. Puts a whole different spin on it when you realize who he is thinking about.
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Good surprise ending. Warranted an immediate re-read once I got to that last line.
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Really well done.
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Nice take on “the fisher of men” idea, turning it right on its head. He’s choosing the right pools (of desperation) to fish from. Relevant to today: the recruiting of the desperate to carry out the evil of the powerful. I love how the last line makes what could just as well be mundane into something woven into the fabric of the universe.
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Fantastic. Excellent structure, voice, idea and execution. All-round brilliant!
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OOps. Dear Dragoness, could you please change Yugolavians to Yugoslavians? Too busy getting the italics and missed the typo 😦
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Sending you boatloads of virtual chocolates shaped like fish.. . pretty please?
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Thank you, gracious Dragony hostess! This group just keeps growing and getting better every week.
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Greed and Fish
@gregduncan8
(160 words)
Pull the nets up. Nothing. Again. Why did I agree to come along with the old man today? I had better things to do. I needed to wash my hair. Or trim my fingernails. Anything was better than this. I could feel my neck burning in the sun. That was going to hurt tomorrow. Boy was I crabby. Why was I here again?
Oh yeah. Because I said I would. There wasn’t any other reason. I had given my word, even if the words were forced through tightly clenched teeth. I had agreed to come. Why did I ever say I would? That was dumb. But then again, what else could I do? If it wasn’t for that money, money my parents owed him. The mayor, slick politician, greedy bastard. But what if he tried to collect? It was impossible. So here I am, pull the nets, burn some more. If only I had the nerve to throw him overboard.
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Awesome, Greg! I love the sort of stream-of-consciousness thing you’ve got going here. Killer last sentence. Great job. Welcome to FF. I hope to see you drop by again. 🙂
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Great last line! Sometimes “we gotta do what we gotta do.” You captured that very well!
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So much character development here in only 160 words. I agree with Tamara, the stream of consciousness style works really well! Awesome job, hope to see more from you Greg!
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I like how you set this up: the comedic grumpiness of the first paragraph and the real justification for grumpiness in the second.
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The soft water lap against the boat was as familiar as his heartbeat. This was as much his home as anywhere. More, really.
He steered the boat. He was good at it. He could read the waves like a book, like a crowd of faces, like the movement of a hand. He was good at reading.
Once, his kingdom had extended beyond a wooden boat. Once, it had included more than his loyal fisherman with his steady net and old hands. Once, his wife had sat beside him, his daughter on the other side, and they had done what they could for their people. It had not been enough.
Like the ocean eats at the shore bit by bit, turmoil and unrest ate at his heart, then his home and finally his kingdom, echoing out until it consumed all he knew. Until he had nothing but a throne.
Then, a boat, a loyal fisherman and the sea for his heartbeat.
@dreadedthought
160
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Beautiful. Love the second paragraph, his ability to read. Well done. 🙂
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A wonderful build-up to a excellent final line – great piece of flash.
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I like the structure of this, the immediacy of the familiar boat and water leading into a backstory, then back to a familiar isolation–heightening the isolation now knowing about a family.
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Small Fish
[Judge’s entry – Just for fun.]
Vasska stood on the bow of the tottery fishing boat. The lake waters rippled all the way to the horizon. His net was empty.
Astern, Gavril sat gripping the oars, but not rowing. “How did you get into such a dirty job?” Vasska asked the fisherman.
Gavril shrugged. “Long ago, I met a fisherman who changed my life. And you, young man?”
“Heh…” the youth blushed. “Last year I ran for public office. But everyone thought I was too young to understand the common man.”
“I see.” Gavril ran a finger thoughtfully across his shaggy beard. “And you want to improve your image? Videri quam esse?”
“Vide-what? Anyway, I’m out learning about the real world.” He struggled to untangle himself from a rope, and smiled wryly. “Maybe someday I’ll be President.”
Gavril rose to help Vasska haul the empty net aboard. “It’ll take a long time, boy, but first I’ll teach you to be a fisherman.”
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Something tells me that in learning to be a fisherman, he’ll learn more about life than he would have otherwise. I like Gavril. Great moment here. 🙂
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fab. Just fab.
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I love the suggestion that Gavil might have had the same ambitions once upon a time.
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Great. This was understated, but brilliant. I think I’d like a president who had first learned to be a fisherman!
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Next Wave
@voimaoy #flashdog
155 words
Water into water, rain on the ocean. The emperor demands his tribute–rice from the green fields, fish from the sea. The empress wants a new pearl necklace. Waves arise and fall. Empires wash away.
That was many years ago. Years of drought, years of rain. Kingdoms come and go.
In the pockets of the rich are silver coins and politicians. Their mouths speak empty platitudes, soothing words of empathy–“We are all in the same boat,” they say. Their words drip salt in the wounds of the people. “Sacrifices must be made.”
For those who have, there is no end to their wanting. They want the finest fish fillets. They want the fish, the pearls, and the chambered snails, the purple dye of royalty.
Poets search the tide pools for the words that must be said. They cut their fingers on the jagged rocks. Storm clouds gather on the horizon, as they watch the rising waves.
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Wow. Amazing, vivid, and poetic. I love the rise and fall, the undulation, of time. Beautiful.
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So lovely Voimaoy. I really like the idea of poets cutting their fingers on the jagged rocks. Fine work indeed.
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Too many good lines to single one out, but did love silver coins and politicians in pockets and everyone in the same boat. Marvellous writing. As always.
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I like the feeling of foreboding derived by storm at the end. What evil awaits the people? Great language.
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Absolutely stunning work.
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A smooth shift from kingdoms to current events, revealing the continuum of the corruption and greed of those in power. “Sacrifices must be made” pins the narrative directly to now. I like how the coins and the politicians are both in the pocket and it’s left to the poets to carry out their little rebellion, the link to the pearls and the searching through the tide pools (oyster beds).
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A lovely lyrical feel to this.
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“Death Reversed”
Cards cracked hard on table in the flickering candlelight. She dealt five of them face down in the shape of a star. Flipping one over she said, “I see the fishermen. You’re starting a journey, is that correct?”
“Yes, Madame,” said the senator, staring at the familiar men surrounded by black waves.
“The five a swords: loss, defeat.”
The annoyance on the senator’s face materialized. “Shall I go on?” she said. He nodded.
“The four of disks and the tower . . . both reversed.” She stared at the senator silently. “It means disast—”
“—disaster and upheaval spawned by greed. I know.” He glared furiously at the cards. This was the third time they’d been dealt to him. Every clairvoyant prophesied the same fortune.
She sat terrified. The senator spoke, “The last card is Death upright which means an end, for you at least. But from where I’m standing it’s reversed. And it’s correct. I am obstinate.”
@goldzco21
159 words
#Flashdog
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Oh, I love this take. Refreshingly original and creative. That first line practically snaps. Awesome.
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wow I’m reading all the stories from the last to the first and I thought your second was good.. I like this one better…. its great …. well done 🙂
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Love what you did here. Such an original take, and wonderful description. Well-done!
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Very creative!
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Holy moly, I love this. From the sharp, concrete beginning to the growing tension, to the stab-in-the-gut ending.
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Mr. Dodd Goes Home
(160 words)
After speeches in cramped town halls and stifling gymnasiums, the greatest pleasure President Dodd usually enjoyed was a loosened tie. Not today. He was back in childhood parts, and the Outdoors promised real adventure.
“Good fishing nearby,” he said to his security agents. “Try our luck at rod and reel, boys?”
“Sir, you should rest.”
“Nonsense! Now ready the ’copter or I’ll use you as bait.”
Their helicopter soon hovered above a lake, above fishermen in a boat.
“Take me down there,” said the president, pointing. “I’ll bet the plump and juicys love those cattails.”
The pilot instead trained his goggles on the boaters and said, “Ben Olmsbury, 59, DWI in 1982. His companion, John Faust, 37, owes child support.”
“And these enemies of the state concern me how?”
“Sir, you can’t fish here.”
“It’s my country, dammit!”
After a pause another agent suggested, “Maybe we send your body double down to fish and he tells you how it was?”
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Nicely done. I feel the man’s restless captivity, his hope of a little relief while fishing, his sense of frustration when he can’t. The line about the tight tie illustrares this feeling so nicely. Great job.
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I enjoyed the story here. The last line made me chuckle. How ridiculous would that be? Send our double to experience our joys.
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Never thought a piece of flash would make me feel sorry for a president, but that was before I read this… great work!
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For Love of the Net
159 words
@abrahamwolfgang
There was the net, and there was the water. Two immutable and entirely inanimate objects.
Fishing for fish instead of fishing for votes would be a refreshing change. Life in the fast lane on Capitol Hill became more than he could handle. He’d washed out, and washed up here on the shores of his childhood.
But the water was something more than life or memory. It was bigger than that; more expansive and more mysterious. He might have made it back in the real world, after all he’d done wrong there was still redemption to be had. But here he had no return.
There was the water, and there was the net. Abrasive in his hands, good for one or two purposes. If the water was his life, the net was his work, goal, and purpose rolled into one. He had spent his entire life pulling at the net, when he should have been jumping into the boundless water
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Nice set-up. Water/net, contrasting the two, sandwiching the story between the first and the second mentions. Great structure.
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Coo, an excellent piece of flash – enjoyed the exploration…
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Beautiful ending, an important lesson for us all. Time to go swimming! 🙂
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Lovely tone and flow to this piece. Great flash!
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Fishing is Trouble
148 words
@pearlofagirl30
Strong tugging on my fishing pole gave me little time to balance myself in our boat. Hair blew in my face along with spray from the water. I began to reel in the fish slowly, my muscles straining.
“What’s the holdup, Andrea?” Jess shaded her eyes, smiling. “Too much for Wonder Woman?”
“Yeah yeah, struggling over here! Come help me!”
Jess shook her head, laughing, and stood next to me. Her eyes widened. “Boy, you weren’t kidding!”
We tugged on the line as hard as we could, and just when we thought it would snap…
“Oh shit, it’s a shark!” Jess shrieked and immediately backed up.
The predator thrashed around, then disappeared. I lifted up the line, and the upper half of what once was Senator Warman, pale and bloated, lifelessly stared back at me.
I opened my mouth to scream but not a sound escaped my lips.
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Great contrast! You think it’s all dandy, floating out on the deep blue sea, laughing through your catches, until… 😉 Nicely done.
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Thank you, Tamara! Wouldn’t that be a nightmare??? Makes me shiver when horrific things happen on a seemingly innocent day…;)
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Nice way to introduce a senator. Didn’t see that coming.
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Heh heh, thank you, Carlos! That’s what I was trying to go for. 🙂
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Cool! Very cinematic. I enjoyed this.
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Thank you so much! 🙂
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nice twist, enjoyed your story.
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Thank you, glad you enjoyed it! 🙂
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Liquidation of Assets
There’s a distinct taste to the ocean air as it dies on your tongue like the flavor of despondency or new possibilities. You can almost feel the waves for days after you’ve retreated to the shore. That gentle lover’s lull, a comfort, as the boat drifts towards the center of serenity.
Stiff hair and salt-plastered skin juxtaposed with the warm, golden hue of your flesh. There is beauty in disintegration.
I relished the heat of the shower, scrubbing flakey remnants of death-caked skin from my thighs.
He’d laughed at me.
I loved his laugh, once, a deep infectious timbre. We used to discuss Nietzsche and Sartre, thought he was a philosophy major. Turned out to be PolySci.
I wonder if his astute wit will morph into the individual molecules of the sea? At least his eyes are reflected there. Stark, fear-filled blue as he clung to life. Demise won out as I’d sped away.
They’re still searching.
@blackinkpinkdsk
160 words
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You’ve got some killer description here. Especially loved your opening paragraph, and then the gutting finale. Extremely well done. 🙂
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Wow! Very sinister. The language as always is outstanding. ‘flakey remnants of death-caked skin…’ is great. A very intriguing relationship.
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Wow, this is powerful. I didn’t expect it to go in that direction. Nicely done!
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Fantastic chilling, detached tone; this was a masterful piece of flash.
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The Fishermen
“Remember when they used to think the world was round Namdi,” Kline said, interrupting the sound of black waves crashing around them.
“Yes. It’s hard to believe they didn’t question what they were told. They were like a flock of sheep, always following their leaders.”
“Namdi, can you imagine living back then? Poor fools, being used like pawns by the presidents and monarchs and dictators. What was that word they would throw around to justify their activities?”
“Politics.”
“Eww, what a dirty word.”
“What was that other word? The one that meant believing everything you’re told?” Namdi asked.
“Faith?”
“No, the other one. It starts with a G”
“Gullible?”
“Yes that’s the one. They were gullible people.”
Both men laughed then Kline pulled up the net from the black depths of the earth’s edge.
“Namdi, did I ever tell you about the time I caught a fish the size of a man?”
“Really? No, you haven’t.”
“Well . . .”
@goldzco21
160 words (Story 2)
#flashdog
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“There’s a bridge in Brooklyn I’d like to sell you.” Liked that little punch at the end. Good job.
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So clever and brilliant. Gullible – a compelling read –
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that’s me gullible 🙂 liked this one too
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What a great use of the prompts!
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A more playful Dali realm for you this week. I loved the turn of the discussion of gullibility onto the characters themselves. I chuckled over “politicians” being a dirty word.
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Ascension
160 words
@mishmhem
“Tell me again why we’re doing this,” I muttered under my breath as I manned…er… womanned the oars.
“Because, Ivan buried the crown here.”
“This is the water,” I reminded him. “You don’t bury things in the water… you throw them overboard.”
I was beginning to think of throwing him overboard, and when he leaned over to pull the lines in and gave me that glare, I knew one of us wasn’t going to be returning to dry land any time soon. He thought it was going to be me, but Mrs. Malone didn’t raise any idiots and I was damned if I was going to be the first.
“It wasn’t water when he buried it, but the flooding…”
I nodded knowingly. “And whoever has the crown…”
“Rules,” he answered with a hint of triumph in his voice. His shout was drowned out by a single shot.
“Echo to base,” I called on the radio “Mission accomplished. Throne is secure.”
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Classic power struggle so well described here. I enjoyed this. Well done!
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Loved this, enjoyed the steady build up to the surprise ending!
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I loved the first line. The twist at the end was great too.
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I loved the voice of this one from the first line. I like the antagonism between the two even as they worked together ending in the betrayal.
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Great turn at the end. Well done!
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Water Spirit’s Return
@jmarcarelli
159 words
“Did I ever tell you the one about the vodanoj?” the old man asked. The dinghy rocked as he shifted his substantial weight.
Davor cast his net into the grey waters. “Nope.”
“My majka told me. Hers told her. The vodanoj said to take the lives of fishermen who weren’t protected. S’why my otac, my father, and his fellow fishers and their djed, their grandfathers, before them wore the crucifix ‘round their necks. Said the water spirit couldn’t sink their boats that way.”
Davor scratched his bare collarbone through his shirt. “You wear one?”
The old man grinned, showing more teeth missing than not. “Got little time for praying myself. You?”
“Nope.”
As the setting sun kissed the surface of the water on the horizon, the boat sloshed to the side again. Neither man had moved. Out of the corner of his eye, Davor saw a webbed hand dig its talons into the side of the boat.
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I hope I made the deadline – my comment wouldn’t post. I had to try three or four times (hopefully, that doesn’t mean you see it a dozen times on here). :S
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Ooh, I enjoyed this. Don’t tempt Fate; she will find you. 🙂 Great job.
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Thank you! Your comment makes me happy. 🙂
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Cool! You did your research. (I only recognized the words for “father” and “grandfather” as I considered using the Croat names.) I love that you use a Slavic myth to animate your tale. I had an “uh-oh” monument when Davor “scratched his bare collarbone”. I also enjoyed how we get flashes of the creature (boat rocking and a webbed hand) rather than the whole creature–much more menacing.
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Thank you! I had to research after Rebekah posted the history of the picture – it was too good to pass up!
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Whoops! Might have been an idea to wear their crucifixes that day… Great story, and a fantastic slice of folklore. I enjoyed this!
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Thank you! I love a good folklore tale, myself.
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Could really feel the rocking boat and the threat from the creature, nice one.
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I’m so glad you could! Thanks!
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