Miranda Kate's Blog, page 21

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 213

This week's picture prompt was taken by Helmut Meyer zur Capellen It is an old wooden storage shed door painted with birds and with a cat flap, in Simonshofen, Middle Franconia, Bavaria, Germany.

Another Tricky snippet. One that is way ahead of where I am currently, but helps me know where I am headed. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Escape
Tricky heard them land in the trees above her and was grateful for the sound, as she had no idea which way to turn. She hoped they’d lead her somewhere – and fast!

Two magpies swooped down and flew round her in opposite directions, then headed off in one direction, a sure sign she was to follow. She ran after them. They kept enough distance that she could see them and still watch her feet as she dodged round the trees.

With each breath she felt the trees around her lend her their energy. She needed it. Her entire face ached, the exertion putting the swollen bruises under pressure. Her hands could barely grasp her coat which she had managed to requisition before her escape, and keep it held round her naked body and away from trailing branches. She didn’t have time to use the tree’s energy for healing purposes, only to speed her escape.

She knew they had means to track her, which meant they had means to catch her again too. Tricky wasn’t one to bend easily to fear but the thought of returning to that hell hole and their torturous plans filled her with a dread she struggled to shake. If it wasn’t for the focus on the birds she would probably succumb to blind panic.

Then she heard it, something she wished she hadn’t, a loud crack, and one of the magpies fell dead to the floor. Shit! They’d sighted not only her, but her guides. She was completely disoriented and had no idea which direction led her inland and which led her out to sea. She didn’t want the Unsailable Sea to trap her and return her to their bidding.

The single magpie continued on even faster and she called to the trees to fill her with yet more energy and felt her feet almost lift off the ground. But another explosion put paid to the second magpie and Tricky wasn’t sure which way to go. She didn’t dare stop though; the second she did the second she would be lost. If she could get control of her mind she might have a chance to open a rent. And then she had an idea.

Still travelling at high speed through the forest she sought for the tiny piece of Obsidian in her pocket, the last of her collection.

Her fingers struggled to move they were so swollen, and the remains of her nail beds screamed at being pushed against the material as she fumbled the stone into her hand. The same applied when she sought the herbs in the hidden compartment under her armpit. Being much smaller, picking them up was impossible. In the end she dumped the Obsidian in with them and squeezed the entire pocket, inhaling yet more energy from the ground as she cleared her mind and pushed hard.

There was a loud pop and she tumbled forward into an empty space, quickly jumping to her feet and running a finger back along the opening to seal it shut.

She stood panting in the bubble of frozen time, trying to calm her breathing and her thoughts. She had no idea how long she was safe – with Stanislov’s new found skills it might only be a few minutes, but it gave her a chance to regroup and try and locate a means to get out of here.

Then she heard a high pitch screech, followed by successive squawks in a distinct pattern, and a smile spread across her face. She might not be able to see him, but he could see her. Safa hadn’t called him Merlin for nothing. She was saved.  

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 212

This week's picture prompt was taken by Blacklist Media on Flicker. The picture is called The Ghost Forest. It is called the Neskowin Ghost Forest, and is located in Neskowin in Tillamook County, Oregon, United States. It is the remains of an ancient forest believed to be about 2000 years old. Researchers believe they died due to an earthquake in North West and a subsequent Tsunarmi dated 26 January 1700. You can read more about it here.  

It's a Tricky Book 2 snippet again this week. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.



Community

As Tricky came over the hill she saw the lake glistening in the afternoon sun. The water was low today. No one understood how it could ebb and flow like it did, being that it was miles from the sea, but there were times it was high and times it was low. Today it was low and it uncovered the remains of the forest that had been there before the shift.

There was something sacred about the stumps when they were exposed; trees at their most raw and vulnerable. People thought they were dead, but they knew little about how forests lived and maintained their community. These trees might not produce foliage anymore but their lineage had not been forgotten. The underground system of roots meant that there was always food for them, and they still added historic value by informing the new growth of their ancestry. Much like humans felt a sense of belonging by knowing where they came from, trees used the stumps of those past to learn about how to live in the present.

Tricky approached the shore and the closest stump. She put her hand on it, and felt the energy flow into her. It was strong and bold, and as bright as if it was a hundred foot tall. But she also knew it was linked to all the other stumps and the living trees as they resonated with the same energy flowing through them. Some were brighter than others and had their own vibration, and the depth of green altered, but they lived as one. Her heart filled with love for them, and she skipped off into the woods on this side of the lake to find the glade where she would make contact with The Rabble. 

Review: Madame Monvoisin's Emporium of Extraordinary Adventures - Volume 2, by Michael Wombat

Madame Monvoisin's Emporium of Extraordinary Adventures: Volume 2: Villeneuve-sur-Gravois by Michael Wombat
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The sequel to Madam Monvoisin Volume 1, does not disappoint. The ending is superb and I was right on the edge of my seat. I have to say I was a bit relieved too, as there was no telling how that was going to end!

Michael Wombat is a master storyteller. Not only does he weave this historically accurate tale around a large selection of his short stories and pieces of flash fiction in a way that is beguiling, but he delivers a story around them that is full of intrigue, and engaging characters.

The continuing story of Etienne and his friendship with Madame Monvoisin follows on from the cliffhangar of the first volume, and we find out about Madame Monvoisin's underground group of aristocrats and what they all get up to. She is involved in far more than just artifacts that can send a person to another place and time for a moment, and discover how she pays the price for it.

I would recommend reading both of these books and anything else written by Michael Wombat if you enjoy great writing, and unique stories.



View all my reviews

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 211

This image is taken from a short film called Coven by writer/director Mark Borchardt. It was taken from a gif, which is found here where there is a review of the film. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.


The Voices
They crowd in, getting closer and closer. I am powerless to stop them. I want to scream at them to leave me alone, to go away, that I am done with them, but I am paralysed with fear. Their darkness flows round them, like capes billowing in the wind, demanding that I join them; that I convert to their way of thinking, but I refuse. I will not be turn to their beliefs.

I am a good person. I have value. I am not wretched. I do not have to prove myself or justify my existence. I am not a burden. I do not have to be subservient to others to give my life meaning. I am enough as I am.

They kept coming, pushing in, closer and closer, their whispers starting to fill my head. I push their words back, not allowing their voices in to twist my thoughts and mind, filling it with ideas that will lead me to become as dark as them.  

I will not succumb to that darkness, to that fate. I am strong. I can be more than the demons that surround me. I can resist and hold firm in my inner faith and believe in my fundamental goodness.

They are jostling me and taunting me, daring me to be a part of the darkness they encompass. But I resist. They will not have me.

I breathe deeply, and they take a step back. I take another breath and they fall back further. They recede and I feel relief. I don’t fear them anymore. They can not turn me against myself. Their nasty words hold no power over me. I am worthy.

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 210

This week's picture prompt is another one from Svetlana Sewell. She calls this one, Dead End. 

I had planned another Tricky snippet, but then someone decided to send me an offensive email about my writing, said in such a way to elicit the most upset. So I have eviserated them in fiction, as a writer does. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Blasphemous
She bucked and fought them as they manhandled her down the stone stairs.

‘I’ve done nothing wrong! You can’t do this to me!’

‘Shush now, you’re only making it worse for yourself,’ the guard on the left said.

‘I’m allowed to say what I want!’

‘Not against the Queen, you aren’t,’ said the guard on the right.

‘I have a right to my opinion!’

‘Not to share it in an offensive manner, with inappropriate passive aggressive remarks that were attributed in such a way to cause the most upset. You heard the ruling; you suffer the consequences.’

‘But I have rights!’

‘Not when you choose to use them to hurt others, you don’t.’

They arrived at an underground tunnel, lit with dim recessed candles. The walls were damp and covered in some kind of red residue. She didn’t know if it was blood or fungus, either way she didn’t like it. And then the end of the tunnel came into view and she began her struggle afresh, arching her back and trying to throw her body out of their firm grasp. But they lifted her off her feet and kept moving her swiftly forward to the terrifying destination.

A heavy, white-painted metal doorway framed what had once been a white padded room. Now it was grimy and ripped in places, after many years of use. It was little more than the size of a cupboard and they thrust her in, causing her to hit the back wall hard and struggle to remain standing. She was unable to get to her feet before they had swung the door shut behind her, sealing her off for the determined period passed down by the judge. She wouldn’t see the light of day for more than a year – not that she would have any idea of time in here.

It was a successful deterrent against proffering unwanted, destructive criticism to someone of creative standing. They shut you down, and you rotted in oblivion. You’re only hope that you survived long enough to keep your mind and be given a second chance.  

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 209

This week's picture prompt was taken by Mrs DK Booksniffer over on Twitter. Taken for #SundayPixSeat - a Sunday event over on Twitter hosted by @Wombat37 with a different theme every Sunday.  It was taken in Preston, Lancashire, UK, not far from the River Ribble.

A perfect picture for a snippet from Tricky's new adventure. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.


Rest Stop

They’d taken it as their own which is how it should be, Tricky thought, as she plonked herself down on the moss covered sofa. The trees had grown round encircling it, and a few branches growing through the sides, but it still worked as a place of rest – not that many would find it this deep into the forest.

She was taking the opportunity to recharge her batteries in relative safety. She’d thought she’d had the upper hand, oh yes she did, but arrogance was a fool and she needed to kill it. This was not going as expected. She needed to play it differently.

This far into the unknown forests of Ferristan was even new to Tricky, but they’d driven her out of the known parts. She wondered if it’d been deliberate; they thought maybe she’d get lost and wouldn’t be able to track them. Oh they didn’t know her very well now, did they? Tricky chuckled to herself.

She took a deep breath and slowed her breathing down, calming her racing thoughts of fear and paranoia. No one had followed her into this area, she knew that. She would be able to find her way out – she was confident about that too. She would find Dufray and unearth this nest of cockroaches. She shuddered; Stanislov particularly made her skin crawl. He was one of those men who was too smooth and too confident. He thought he was a catch. You’d catch something for sure if you got involved with that, probably your untimely death. She looked forward to seeing an end to him.

She took another deep breath and exhaled it slowly, flushing out all thought and tuning into the trees around her. She felt her spirits lift as she listened to their branches move and crackle as they pondered this woman in their midst. She opened her mind and imagined her energy pouring out of her to greet theirs. They entwined it with all the shades of green and more. There was a rushing sound above her and she watched their boughs move in a sweeping motion as they all basked in the rush of energy their connection provided. Oh what bliss!

And then the image came of the path she needed to take through the trees. But it didn’t lead back through the forest, it led to water, rushing water that travelled to the unsailable sea. They were guiding her and she had to take note. And there was something in that water she needed to find. She could feel it.

Then a sudden rush of dark green flooded her and turned all the energy black. She gasped. It was a portent and one she had to pay heed to. It denoted that she had to play this clandestine and elicit if she wanted to survive. This was no fool’s errand, this was life or death.

‘I hear you,’ she said aloud. There was a huge rush of sound as all the trees in the vicinity of the sofa swung left and right in a show of unity and warning. ‘Thank you for your care and concern. I will not dismiss it.’

Then the trees fell silent and the dark energy dissipated, replaced by a lighter green that moved outside of Tricky’s body and travelled in the direction she must go. She didn’t waste any more time and jumped up to follow it.

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 208

This week's photo prompt was taken by Michael Wombat in Derby.  These are the Reform Bill Heads - a sculpture on Friar Gate. The "Reform Bill Heads" by Timothy Clapcott are a reminder of the Reform Bill riots of 1821. Installed in 2000 as part of the Sustrans cycle route improvements.

I've gone a bit literal this week. It didn't really fit with any of Tricky's antics this week. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Talking Heads

‘Oh shit.’

‘Sorry mate, I tried to warn you.’

‘You didn’t try hard enough.’

 ‘At least we’re at the back.’

‘What difference does that make?’

‘Dogs, mate, dogs. You wait.’

‘And how long are we going to be stuck here?’

‘There’s no telling.’

‘I can tell you.’ A voice from the front. ‘I’ve been here since the beginning.’

‘Shit.’

‘There’ll be some of that too, thanks to the dogs.’

‘I didn’t think I’d said anything wrong.’

‘None of us did.’

‘It becomes wrong.’ A voice on the corner.

‘How can it become wrong?’

‘Views change; opinions change. A new agenda.’

‘But this is a bit extreme, isn’t it?’

‘Some would say your views were.’

‘So this is it then?’

‘Yep, a new perspective on society; one from the underdog.’

‘You’ll be seeing under a lot of dogs.’ A voice at the back somewhere.

There was sniggering.

‘At least you all seem to find something to laugh about.’

‘Got to keep a sense of humour, mate, otherwise you’re doomed.’

‘Some would say being stuck in an ornamental head of a sculpture on a pavement already meant you were doomed.’

‘There are worse things.’

‘Really?’

There was silence, then a burst of laughter.

‘No, but you’ve got to have hope, haven’t you?’

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 207

This week's picture prompt was taken by Svetlana Sewell. She gives no details about where this is taken or when, but I thought it had a story to tell. She has a great selection of interesting photos. Worth a look. 

Another peek at some of the story line I am trying to put together for Tricky's second book. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.


Leak
Tricky cracked an eye open through her pounding head. She was in a bloody bath – literally. Tricky shuffled round, her booted feet clanging on the old metal tub, until she was pulled up short by the chains on her wrists.

She tilted her head back to look at them and her brain felt like it hit the edges of her skull with force. Ow! She could just make out the metal ring in the wall they had put the handcuff chain through.

It was dark and dingy in here … here being an underground cavern of some sort. But the walls were smooth so this wasn’t some dug out hole; it had once been a proper bathroom. She put her hand on it and felt the smooth but damp plaster underneath; a creation that was long forgotten to the time before the shift. Such luxury. Some had tried to recreate it, but never got it this silky. It had no grain in it, and was entirely flat.

As Tricky’s mind came back online, she looked down at all the blood in the bath. Was it hers? She tentatively touched the side of her head. Her fingers came away sticky. Probably. She moved her body but couldn’t find any other large holes, just gashes and cuts, and a couple of finger nails missing.

She tried to recall how she had ended up here. She’d been found – how they’d managed to see through her veil she didn’t know. And then there’d been the interrogation. Oh that’s right, it all came flooding back now. She’d thought Carter had been violent and cruel, but Stanislov’s men had taken it to a whole new level. They’d beaten her about quite a bit but she was made of stronger stuff. And then there’d been Lucien!

She sat up quickly, regretting it immediately as her head screamed, causing her to retch – there was nothing to throw up; she’d emptied her stomach during their torture session.

Dufray was here. She’d heard his cries when he’d realised they had her. She hadn’t fully understood them either. What had he meant by don’t let them take it? What was the ‘it’? Had he meant the Obsidian or something else? But why had they been holding him? He was in with them after all.

None of it made sense, and her head hurt too much for her to try and work it out right now. She had to go within and regrow her energy and heal herself. But when she tried she couldn’t find an energy source. She was underground of course – and they’d placed her in a metal tub.

Shit! They knew more than she thought. Someone had been feeding them insider information, and she was beginning to doubt it was Dufray. 

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 206

This week's picture prompt is from Polish photographer Leszek Paradowski. It's not the first time I've used one of his images, and probably won't be the last. He has some fantastic stuff. 

This one was definitely a Tricky tale, and it didn't fail to move my story along. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Magnifience 

She stood at the foot of the tree and looked up. He was a big bugger, there was no doubt about that, and she could feel the energy thronging off him. But there was something more she had been drawn here for and she knew this tree held the answer. She hadn’t come this far into the wildwoods of Ferristan to be scared by an ancient overlord, no matter how strong he stood – and this one was so strong she feared her own energy if she pissed him off.

Tricky referred to him as a him, but in truth trees were not to be gendered, although they weren’t really ‘its’ either; they were far too sentient for that. Plus they did give off differing energies, much like the feminine and masculine levels within humans. Tricky hadn’t yet been able to uncover their sex lives. She knew they existed and suspected it was root based, thus next to impossible to witness. She could tell when one was putting out energy to attract another and had even lent her energy to bring them together. She liked to think of herself as a voyeur among them.

But all that was by the by when you were faced with a specimen like this: a dominant, strong, and clearly elder of this particular copse. She wanted to put her hands on his bark, but it might be too much for her to handle. Sometimes their energy could run through you and frazzle the ends of your hair – similar to that electricity stuff they had back before the shift. But there was a conversation she needed to have with this one, and it would be the only way.

She tentatively stepped forward placing her feet carefully between his at his base. She could feel the hairs on her body rise in response to the static he was giving off. She couldn’t be sure he was aware of her as yet; being so tall he might view her as nothing but some rummaging animal. She held her hands out, palms forward and slowly put them onto his trunk. Immediately the bright vivid green rushed through them and up her arms, into her body. It was so rich and had such depth she had to take several breaths just to manage it. Oh my!

She felt his consciousness turn to hers. This tree was beyond ancient for this land. It was one of the few that had survived the shift. It had been just a sapling at the time and this particular patch of land had remained intact. Every tree around it was a descendent of it, save for a couple more, but he was the eldest. He made that clear through the circles that he spun in her mind, and the pictures he created.

She had a couple of pictures for him: the places and people she sought. He knew of them too; they had been in the area. She checked her excitement and waited for the next image to project into her mind. And then there it was: the door she kept seeing in her dreams. But it wasn’t just any door, it was a portal and she needed to find it. But it was moving in a rhythmic fashion and she didn’t know why, until suddenly an image of a wave splashed in her face and she fell back, her hands leaving the trunk, and in that moment she knew: the ocean.

Oh bloody hell! She’d have to face the unsailable sea, dammit! She’d hoped that wouldn’t have to happen, even though she’d been drawn this far towards the coast.

She lay on the ground looking up at this giant, still in awe of his power. She gathered up her energy, drawing it into her heart, turning it into her yellow gold. Then she poured it out to the tree, wrapping it round his trunk as a thank you. She heard a shushing sound and the branches at the top waved. He appreciated her gift. They would part on good terms.

But she remained sat there for a moment, feeling a sense of love so pure for this species. She wished to would reincarnate as one, one day. 

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 205

This week's photo prompt was taken by Beano Burnett over on twitter. They posted it for the SundayPix theme of Clocks back in March. (every Sunday @wombat37 picks a theme for us all to post photos about). 

I am using the current Mid-WeekFlash prompts as inspiration for some scenes in the second Tricky Tales book - if they work for it. I have only supplied a snippet this week as the rest of the scene gets a bit indepth.  

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Shattered

When she saw the clock she knew; time was her thing after all, that was no secret. Did he mean it as a warning, or did he have an idea beyond the human realm?

He thought he was playing clever, but Tricky knew better. She always did. These high class villains always believed they were ahead of the game and that was their downfall. Pride comes before a push off a cliff edge, and she had just the right cliff edge in mind.

But before that could happen she had to work this out. Rush into this and it would be her downfall not his.

She looked round the whole room. It was made to look like it had been vandalised, but Tricky knew what she was looking at, and it was a set up. Things might look thrown but they’d been carefully placed.

She took a deep breath and pulled energy up out of the floor to replay the last moments that had taken place here. She saw the wisps of human energy flying round, moving this, putting that there, dropping that over there. But the clock, he’d handled that carefully and deliberately. He knew exactly what it was – and that scared her far more.

He placed his palm over the glass covering the dial and his energy colour changed, firing up from its residual pink to an intense red. Then he had popped out of existence and the clock had fallen to the ground. But it hadn’t shattered; another energy had come and put their foot on it, purposefully breaking it and sealing him in, removing the opportunity for anyone to follow.

Tricky sniggered. Any ordinary person to follow. Oh he really didn’t have a clue about her, did he? She’d been so cautious, yet she hadn’t needed to be. Pride also made you stupid.

She spun her arms in an arc, collecting up the energy like spinning cotton candy round a stick. Then she thrust it into the broken clock face. It reassembled itself in an instant, and she sighed, letting her breath out as a whoosh. She slipped into its workings and through its cogs out into the time dimension Stanislov thought he could hide from her in.