Austin Briggs's Blog, page 47
November 4, 2012
The Abbess
Behn watched Abbess Mab approach the king’s throne, black robes swishing quietly over the marble floor. Pink eyes gleamed from a wizened, pallid face hidden within her cowl. Witches, some called them. Assassins.
Mab’s gaze fell upon the boy as she passed. Beneath that cowl, Behn thought he saw the slightest hint of a smirk.
Michael Coady.
The Abbess is a post from: Adventure and Learning
November 3, 2012
Choices
“You used to be a dragon.”
“I did?”
“Yes. You swooped and soared up in the clouds. You even breathed fire.”
“What happened?”
“Being a dragon doesn’t pay bills. Mopping floors does.”
“Could I do it again?”
“Maybe. Give it a go. But if you make a mess I’m docking your wages.”
“Forget it then.”
Choices is a post from: Adventure and Learning
The Emperor of Time
With a blinding flash, the emperor drew his mystical time sword
And slashed into the space time continuum.
“It’s time to leave,” he said to his faithful assistant, with sadness.
Stepping into the illuminated time rip for the final time,
they sacrificed their lives to save mankind.
Their bodies became celestial, heavenly,
they never existed.
The Emperor of Time is a post from: Adventure and Learning
November 1, 2012
Oct 2012 Winner
Hope you like the changes I’m making to the Flash Fiction page. While still not final (we’re working on some formatting issues), it already delivers most of what I wanted:
- Ability to see more stories on one page
- Ability to browse by genre and by author, rather than having to click back through pages and pages of stories.
With that out of the way, let’s announce the results of our Halloweeny, Octobery contest that explored mixing love and horror.
Call me prejudiced… and I probably am, because I love reading every author posting here; but I see so many wonderful stories posted this months that I’ll go broke awarding each one I believe deserves to win.
It’d be almost unfair for me to call out my favourite stories this month, because then I’ll have to list almost every story posted. Many meet the contest criteria so perfectly that I thought of using an old hat to draw the winner.
Although, of course, I didn’t. I hand-picked this months winner from a (long) list of finalists. Among others, the finalists were:
1. Property of the Upper Classes by Mark Brown.
2. Forever by Deborah Lean.
3. Love Letters by A. Partridge.
4. Father’s Love by Michael Coady.
5. Deception by Michael Coady.
6. Not Even Death by Elizabeth John.
7. Matter of the Heart by Lynn McNamee.
and, of course, the wonderful
8. The Flower of October, The Voice, The Art of the Sauce… As I said above, I have to stop here, because otherwise I’ll be calling out so many stories posted this month.
So… the winner this month is:
Not Even Death by Elizabeth John.
Congrats! And once again, many thanks to every author who posted their wonderful, horrible, humorous, thought-provoking stories this month.
For November, let’s shift gears from horror into Fantasy. Any type of fantasy would do — swords and magic, historical, epic, steampunk, sexual… no limits!
November 2012 Theme:
Fantasy
Oct 2012 Winner is a post from: Adventure and Learning
October 31, 2012
Property of the Upper Classes
Roaring, flaming embers crackled, drowning out the storm lashing the lead-glass windows of Burtonmere Hall.
His Lordship paced, brandy sloshing from a crystal glass held in a mottled hand. Emily sat nervously, clutching petticoats.
“Damn it,” he cursed, “You will love me!”
Emily fidgeted – finish the brandy, she willed, let the arsenic do its work.
Mark Brown.
Property of the Upper Classes is a post from: Adventure and Learning
Saturday Night
Blurted, ‘yes!’ When I should have said no. My sodden shoes squelch, second prize; curry and chips. It could have been love or even just sex. I should have said no. There’s always next Saturday, always next Saturday.
Saturday Night is a post from: Adventure and Learning
October 27, 2012
Not Even Death
The hand he placed on her shoulder shimmered with an ethereal light, faint and pale.
She turned, startled. Her eyes widened when she saw him.
“You’re. . . you’re here?”
“You thought those pills would keep us apart?” He exposed his wrists, revealed the ugly wounds. “Oh, lover, don’t you see? Now we’ve got eternity.”
She screamed.
Not Even Death is a post from: Adventure and Learning
Trick-or-Treat the Aztec Way
Children all over are counting down to October 31 with bursting eagerness.
Nothing is as heartening as the sight of kids living out their fantasies on the evening of Halloween. When they ring your doorbell, just remember that they waited agonizingly long before they could trick-or-treat you, so don’t shut your lights and withdraw from it all.
Those would be your neighborhood kids. They’d have a chant or a story to tell you, giggling as happy children do. They shout out happily who they are in their costumes. You can then chat some more or give them some treats and see them off to the next house.
All done, back to your TV. Except that some of the children’s joy would have rubbed off on you.
And just like us, the Aztecs also had their trick-or-treat day.
Tlaloc, the Aztec God of Rain
Instead of October, it was in June, and the point was to assure the god of rain, Tlaloc, of their full dependence on his bounty. On that night, still months away from the harvest, the Aztecs gave freely of sweet beans and maize porridge that they loved. In fact they gave away so much that unless good rains came, they were certain to face difficulties.
Why did they behave so generously? The story is interesting.
It all began innocently enough a few days before trick-or-treating, when a group of merry priests went, singing and dancing, to the lake to collect some reeds.
Now those weren’t just any priests. They were the offering priests, those who showered gods with gifts, paying the acknowledged price for being allowed to live on this earth.
As soon as the priests gathered enough reeds, the nature of their mission changed, and they were merry no longer. On their way back, they were ordained to punish anyone naive enough to be in their path. And punish they did, with relish.
In the same manner as gods could administer punishment arbitrarily, say by striking someone with lightning—so did the mob of priests dole out their own discipline, at random.
No trick-or-treating routine when they showed up. Upon first sight, the passerby would drop everything he was carrying and flee, whether he was a commoner carrying a bunch of maize ears to his children, or a nobleman taking a wealth of tributes to Montezuma himself.
If the poor passerby refused to give his treat, priests responded—you guess it, with a trick. Here are the Aztecs, speaking for themselves:
“The priests threw them flat on the ground, they stepped on each of them, they kicked them, they leapt upon each of them, they beat the ground with each of them, they scattered them like so many ropes, they made them cry out, they beat them repeatedly, they beat the skin off of them, they straightened their backs.” (Florentine Codex)
No idle threat, that of the mob of priests.
More about the priests’ immunity in a subsequent post. Now, let’s move to the night when all the townsfolk played the trick-or-treat game.
That night, there would be no groups of happy, giggling kids roaming the neighborhoods, no iconic costumes, no mock witches on brooms. Instead, bands of young warriors patrolled the streets, accompanied by “pleasure ladies”—prostitutes, in other words.
Can you visualize the scene?
Say you were just coming out of your door which, of course, had no lock on it. In fact, there would have been no door to speak of (the Aztecs used no more than an animal skin to drape their entrance). Facing you would be a mob-like, unruly gang of youngsters armed with daggers and swords, holding jars on one arm and half-naked “ladies of the night” on the other.
As you stepped out into the open, you were greeted with a jingle: “I’ll sing you a song, my friend, and when I do… when I do, give me a little of your porridge. Because if you don’t, I’ll break a hole into your house.”
The Aztec Porridge Dance
They were prancing about to a special porridge dance, making it clear that what they wanted was your food in their jars. Their faces would be hidden behind a thick layer of paint—with large circles drawn around their eyes. And despite the prohibition to drink alcohol until one became a useless old man, some of them reeked of booze.
Once again, there was nothing idle about the threat. The trick was real and specific: give the good neighborhood boys what they wanted or watch them rip your house apart to the merry jeering of their whores.
It was really not much of a choice. You just shared some of your food with the lads. Anyone would, and everyone did. You’d stuff their jars as fast as you could, with an eye on their daggers.
That wasn’t really the issue. The issue was that as soon as the first gang left, another mob came around, and then another. In fact, they kept coming around until morning.
So, next time your bell rings on Halloween night, count your blessings, my friend, and give those kids some of your time and candy.
Because if you don’t, I’ll send some priests down your path, reed-carrying priests on their way back from the lake!
Just trickin’.
Trick-or-Treat the Aztec Way is a post from: Adventure and Learning
The Flowers of October
She stood behind him as he placed the flowers on her grave. She heard “I love you” in the voice of his heart. She whispered in his ear with all of her energy, “I know and I love you.”
Then in a softer voice she said, “But please go on, to love again.”
David LeRoy.
The Flowers of October is a post from: Adventure and Learning
October 25, 2012
The Butcher
She sliced. Bones crunched, muscles bled. Yellow fat and dimpled skin clung to the undersides of her fingernails. Blue gas burned high, sulfur odor burning her nostrils. She wiped bloody hands on her apron. “Four hours ought to do it.” She licked her fingers, and tied the legs together with twine.
The Butcher is a post from: Adventure and Learning
