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Michael
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Oct 23, 2014 05:05AM
If he'd used planck time he'd be all right :-)
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We're nearing the end of the ABC Drabbles of Death series with only five more to go. I have an idea for a new series to continue when this one is finished, so look out for news on that soon!In today's drabble we reach the letter 'U' and it proved a difficult letter to pick a word for. Then I thought about an idea I've had for a future novel and one of its aspects fitted nicely. IF you've not read the other drabbles in the series then you'll find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
U is for Undying
It seemed a good deal at the time. In exchange for my soul I’d never die. A deal so good I believed that I’d tricked the Devil. After all - what use was my soul if I didn’t die?
He must be laughing now.
It was a rush at first. No matter what happened I’d walk away from it. Sure it hurt, but the pain was worth the rush.
But like any drug the rush soon faded and there would be no escape. Once entropy had its fill I’d witness the end of the universe.
And I would never die.
Kath wrote: "Quitter! ;)"Yep. First chance I get.
We've reached the letter 'V' in the macabre journey through the alphabet. I had some trouble picking a word, but some research (God bless the internet and all who sail in her!) provided me with a wonderful and unusual word - 'vastation'.If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
V is for Vastation
There are ways to restore purity to a sinner. You can absolve them of their wrongdoing, or in some cases drive out the evil spirits corrupting them. But what do you do when their wickedness is so ingrained in their soul that cleansing will not suffice?
Killing them would condemn their spirit to eternity without hope of salvation. And so it is with a heavy heart that I must do this. There will be pain, but it is the only way. I will bear the weight of your screams so that you can meet your end with a pure heart.
A new stand alone drabble of mine has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains news. It's based on a fun idea for a dinosaur messiah while driving into work :-)
You can find my other standalone drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
The Word Unheeded
With a vision the King became a Prophet. In the vision he saw the evil of eating the flesh of others. He witnessed that from their sin a doom would come of fire and storm. A fate approaching ever closer with every meal.
He shared the truth with the others and the plant eaters rejoiced, for his word promised a better world for them. But his brother Tyranosaurs rejected the idea. “Are we not born to eat meat?” they asked. “Our teeth are long and our claws are sharp.”
They consumed him to punish him and unseen their extinction approached.
George by Kath MiddletonGeorge enjoyed a glass of something special with a meal. It enhanced the gourmet experience. He carefully swirled the taster around the glass and held it up to the light, catching the pale highlights in the golden liquid.
"Hmmm," he said quietly to himself. "Delightful. Hints of honey and... could that be cinnamon? Not too aggressive on the palate and with just the right sharpness to complement the food."
"Yer what?" queried the young man behind the bar. "Get it down yer neck lad. We've not got all day. This is a real ale festival, not a bloody vineyard tour!"
Better than my Essence of Frogs Leg wine...
Kath wrote: "Were it? He never gave me a sup!":-)
My choice for this week's latest in the ABC Drabbles of Death series is a little obvious. But after watching the second season of Vikings (which is excellent by the way) it also seemed like an appropriate and fun idea :-)Only three drabbles left in the series and then I shall start a new series of drabbles. If you haven't read the previous drabbles in this series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
W is for Warrior
The morning frost is hard and cold beneath my feet. Across the valley the mist rises from the ground, becoming one with the breath of men and horses.
Voices cry their rage and fear into the sky and in answer the sky’s tears muddy the ground. The earth trembles from their charge. We lock our shields and brace against the weight of our foe.
The clash of steel and screams blend into a single song. The ground grows slick with blood. All too soon only I remain, yet I stand and fight until I can swing my axe no more.
I like that. Kind of fitting, so close to Armistice Day too.
Our journey through the alphabet in the ABC Drabbles of Death continues with the letter 'X'. This was a nice and easy word to pick for such a tricky letter and there are no prizes for guessing which two films provided inspiration for this drabble :-)You can read all of the previous drabbles in this series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
X is for Xenomorph
They’re all dead. A simple recon mission they said. All but one of the soldiers died and he came back changed. We didn’t know that until the next day.
At breakfast the corporal’s face exploded and tendrils of flesh sprayed across the table. The doc reacted first and died first. The tentacles writhed with an alien sheen and the corporal lurched towards the pilot.
I ran. I locked myself in my quarters and watched on the cameras as the rest of the crew were slaughtered. There’s only me left and the door won’t last for long from the inhuman pounding.
New Drabble - I'm SorryMy latest standalone drabble has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter. Sign up on their website for a daily newsletter of Kindle bargains and a drabble. And there's some great contributers - visit their site at www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk.
You can read my other standalone drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
I'm Sorry
“I’m sorry.”
“Of course you are, but why are you sorry?”
I’m sorry that nothing I do ever is quite right.
I’m sorry for crying myself to sleep each and every night.
I’m sorry that I live in fear for when you return home.
I’m sorry that what remains of my life is for you alone.
I’m sorry about the decision made all those years ago.
I’m sorry I’m forced to live with no love bestowed.
I’m sorry for never being able to make you feel proud.
But most of all I’m sorry I can’t say these words out loud.
We reach the penultimate drabble in the ABC Drabbles of Death series and I couldn't finish the series without a tribute to the great H P Lovecraft. The letter 'Y' provides a perfect hook for such a tribute!If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series yet then you'll find them all here for your enjoyment:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
Y is for Yog-Sothoth
Imagination called up the shocking form of fabulous Yog-Sothoth—only a congeries of iridescent globes, yet stupendous in its malign suggestiveness. He is both time and space, yet imprisoned beyond the universe mankind foolishly believes inviolate.
Despite his exile he sees all and knows all. Those that discover the secrets of the hidden attract his attention. Unfortunately for them the fortunes of Yog-Sothoth suffer a fate so dread the horror stretches beyond imagination. Still he is worshiped by many dark beings and under countless names. Even the children of Cthulhu locked beneath the sea revere the grandparent of their creator.
From today's Indie Book BargainsThe Pile-Up by Jonathan Hill
The first collision was at 08:43. Over the following two minutes, a further seven cars ploughed - smash! - onto the scene. Some vehicles spun a full 360 degrees, others were upturned. From the moment of first impact, the air filled with screams so awful that onlookers were forced to cover their ears. The gravity of the situation was highlighted, terribly, by the ongoing, never diminishing, sounds of distress.
A little boy was plucked from the wreckage by his father. “Jonny, those are your brother’s toy cars. Leave them alone. You're upsetting him and giving us all earache in the process!”
We've reached the end of our journey through the alphabet with the ABC Drabbles of Death series. It's been a fun ride and I hope you've enjoyed the drabbles in the series. My choice of word for 'Z' is a little obvious, but I think it is a fitting end.If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you'll find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
Next week will see the start of a new drabble series :-)
Z is for Zombie
My memories crumbled beneath the endless hunger. It didn’t happen immediately. Enough time passed for me to comprehend the monster I’d become. They say you always remember your first and that proved true. I still remember chewing through my wife’s face.
I wish that memory had vanished first.
That moment led to a greater horror. Then another. Followed by more until my memories flooded with blood and gore.
Locked in my decaying meat prison I feared the end of my faculties but also prayed to witness no more. Soon I will be no more and exist only for the hunger.
Getting seasonal here -Christmas Past
There's always a toy that sells out well before Christmas, like the Telly Tubbies or Tamagotchis. We try to reorder but we can't get enough. This year it was a little baby-doll with tiny, life-like fingers and an unbearably cute little face. All the children wanted them. We never knew why they were so popular.
Then we started getting complaints. The dolls' heads were so easily pulled off and inside the body, skewering the head in place, was a wicked steel point. It's a mercy a child wasn't killed. We recalled them and returned them to the manufacturer: Herod Inc.
Ah well, if we're getting into the festive spirit -A momentary Lapp son’s reason
By Richard Martinus
After his adventures in Ruritania, Rudolf Rassendyll went on a tour of Scandinavia to take his mind off things. He spent a week with the Sami in Lapland, who celebrated his visit by holding a spectacular sports day. There was reindeer wrestling, reindeer vaulting, reindeer lifting and a range of similarly themed activities. Rudolf begged to be allowed to take part, but the chief’s son explained it was too dangerous, and it would breach their laws of hospitality to allow a guest to come to harm. So, despite his entreaties, they never let poor Rudolf join in any reindeer games.
Excellent - just the reaction I was striving for.
That was the second song I learned to play on the guitar, when I was 9 years old. (the first was Old McDonald).
A couple of seasonal ones from meThe Snowman Family
The children had been busy playing in the snow all day and had made a whole family of snowmen. There was a big one that they called Sam, a medium one, Sally and a tiny one they called Stu. What the children didn't realise was that the Christmas Fairy had been watching them and was so touched that she sprinkled her magic dust on them and brought the snowmen to life.
A rabbit entered the garden and pointed a hairdryer threateningly at the terrified snowman family.
"Let's give up, Sam," said Sally. "Just give him our noses and he'll go."
The Longest NightThe sleigh touches down as the peachy blush of a crackling Christmas dawn chases across the globe. Father Christmas is shattered. He’s visited every country in the world in one night and he’s not getting any younger. As a Time Lord, he can expand the hours but the number of children grows. Gone are the days he could park up for a sly smoke, kick his boots off and let the reindeer graze for a while. These days he’s lucky if he can shimmy behind a tree for a wizz! They keep constant watch on him now. Damn you, NORAD!
Hey you Drabblers (drabblistes?) the Scottish Book Trust run a competition for 50 word storieshttp://www.scottishbooktrust.com/writ...
Thought some of you might be interested :)
Terms & Conditions here http://scottishbooktrust.com/50-word-...
The Today programme on radio 4 used to do them every Christmas
As promised in last week's final post in the ABC Drabbles of Death series I have a new series of drabbles. In my monthly short fiction contest I post an image for other writers to create stories from so I thought I would do something similar. This series is an open ended one and each week I'll pick a work of art, some famous and others not so well known and write a drabble based on that work of art.
I should point out that I'm not trying to interpret what the artist had in mind - I'm creating a story I see when I view the work. Considering what I normally write Edvard Munch's 'The Scream' seems like an excellent place to start!
The Scream by Edvard Munch
And so the moment arrives and it isn’t what you’d expected.
You have searched for so long to see me. I’m not the fanciful glory you heard in stories when you were a child. You behold my true self and so witness a magnificence turning the sky to blood and the world to water.
You stare into my being and for the briefest instant you understand what it is you have discovered. You sought a secret and have found only truth – a truth beyond your simple imagining.
And now that you know, is it any wonder that you scream?
There's a rich seam to mine here, Michael. Looking forward to more.
This series might run for a while :-)
Calling all drabblists for The Twelve Drabbles of Christmas!The festive season is almost upon us and what better way to celebrate than with twelve of the finest Christmas themed drabbles? So I'm looking for a drabble for each of the twelve days of Christmas to be posted here on my blog and for each one I post the winner will receive a £10 Amazon gift card.
You can enter more than once, but only post the same drabble once. The prize is for each drabble used so you could win more than once. The drabbles should be related to Christmas in some way but can be from any genre - although extreme erotica should probably be avoided :-)
I'll pick the winners and post the first drabble on Christmas Day - so get writing!
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/201...
I keep forgetting to pop mine on here - The Missing Link
Father Christmas left a sack full of goodies by the fireplace. He didn't just deliver exclusively for the children either. Jimmy excitedly ripped the wrapping from a shiny red racing car. "Yay!" he yelled.
Sally had asked for a big torch. She secretly intended to read under the bedcovers. "Oh, excellent!" she said.
Mum had something strangely shaped which she hid with a blush as Dad giggled and nudged her.
Dad got a keyring which beeped if you clapped so they wouldn't have that performance searching for them every day.
Sadly they all bore the same legend; batteries not included.
Christmas time.Christmas time, sherry and wine.
Gin and tonic? That'll be mine.
I do love a whisky and ginger or two.
Someone say cider? Don't mind if I do!
Rum is so warming, my nose is quite red.
One port and lemon won't go to my head.
Here comes the Queen's speech. Let's stand for a toast.
Champers is best, dear (such a generous host).
Let's have a brandy, it helps you digest
All that plum pudding. I'll loosen my vest.
I stretch by the fireside a glass in my hand
My socks are on fire! I'm too tipsy to stand.
The fifth drabble of Christmas brings us 'Memories' courtesy of Marko Susimetsä:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/201...
The Drabbles of Art series continues with Saturn Devouring his Son by Francisco Goya which is quite a gruesome image and therefore a great inspiration for a drabble!
If you missed the start of the series then you can read the first drabble of the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
Saturn Devouring his Son by Francisco Goya
It didn’t hurt like I’d expected. I knew it was coming of course – we all did. None of us would be allowed to grow into adults and wither in time. We existed only to satisfy our father’s hunger and allow him to live for a few years longer.
He took no interest in us until the feeding, but despite the neglect he cast a glamour so that we didn’t shriek as he consumed our flesh. Instead of pain I experienced only a confused wonder as I faded away with each bite. Not merely meat, but my spirit he consumed until…
The Drabbles of Art series continues with the vivd piece 'Great Wave off Kanagawa' by Japanese artist Katsushuika Hokusai. This was a fun picture to write a story for as it all the elements nice and prominent.
If you haven't read the other drabbles (100 word stories) in the series then you'll find them here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai
The spirits dwell within the white of the water. That’s how we know they’re there. When the sea churns they dance across the waves always racing towards the village. We sail our boats across the water to chase them away from the shore.
They can never be allowed to touch the mountain.
Why? You might ask.
Look upon the distant mountain’s peak and you’ll see their brethren frozen in their prison. If they escape and return to the sea then the waves will rise and drown the land, and so to save our village we must chase the spirits away.
After a long hiatus the Imp returns (well not quite!) in the latest Tales of the Imp drabble featured in today's Indie Book Bargains newsletter. You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
Missing in Action
It’s been months since I last saw the Imp and my life’s become a mess.
I don’t know where he’s gone, only that he’s not here and I don’t know what to do. Considering all of the crap he’s put me through, my feelings come as a surprise.
I’m sat in front of the computer trying to write and the words just won’t come. He claimed to be my muse and maybe that was truer than I realised.
All I know is that he understood me in a way no person ever could and now I’m alone.
Where is he?
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