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The latest drabble in the Tales of the Imp series was posted in yesterday's Indie Book Bargains nesletter. You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
Ritual Interrupted
Still no communication from the Imp. Life is just too damn quiet without him here. Everything continued to fall apart around me so I took matters into my own hands. As is often the case in these situations the internet provided the solution.
The salt circle and chalk markings around it were relatively easy. Sacrificing the chicken less so. It wouldn’t keep still, but after a few attempts its head and a pool of blood lay at the centre of the circle. I then attempted the summoning. Latin isn’t my strong suit either.
“That wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
He’s back!
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here's a drabble about a church whose bells are taken away & melted down for the war efforthttp://sulcicollective.blogspot.co.uk...
Oh, that's a bit of a spine-tingler, Marc.
For this week's Drabbles of Art piece I've chosen Hieronymus Bosch's masterpiece 'The Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Last Things'. With a work like this I had no difficulty coming up with a suitable drabble!
If you haven't read the other drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Last Things by Hieronymus Bosch
Wrath casts its flame, its power casting those against me into rout.
Pride lifts me above all others, without the slightest doubt.
Eager lust quickens my pulse, warming my loins with a sweet sensual kiss.
Gentle sloth traps my limbs, wrapped in a cage of slumbers’ embrace.
My hollow gut heralds gluttony, an aching hunger never to be ended.
Encompassing greed consumes me, without hope of ever being sated.
My doom is sealed with envy’s lesson that all I desire can never be mine.
And for my seven deadly sins I’ll enjoy the torments of hell’s fire for all time.
Nice! (in a macabre sort of way)I seem to have written another one about a church:
Ninety foot high said the plans. An imperial measure for an imperial edifice. It would dwarf and dominate everything else around it. For the natives built only low-lying buildings, with open roofs save for some cursory vines and tendrils. Perhaps they liked to gaze out upon the stars. Well the large silver cross anticipated atop the spire would give them a new Polaris to orient their path through the firmament. Thus would we would colonise the heavens too. Change the trajectories of their imagination, raise their zenith beyond the earthbound limits of tree-tops where they currently resided through fruit-gathering quests.
Most of mine are macabre :-)Yours has a nice inspirational feel.
A collection of some of my favourite drabbles has been featured in the latest issue of JU Lit-zine, the online magazine produced by Jotters United. You can access the magazine here:http://jottersutd.wix.com/jotters-uni...
And the page with my drabbles here:
http://jottersutd.wix.com/jotters-uni...
The latest drabble in the Tales of the Imp series has been featured in today's Indie Book Bargains newsletter. To read the previous drabbles in the series visit here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
To discover the origin story of the Imp you need to read the short story in the Off the KUF collection. You can buy your copy from Amazon here:
http://amzn.to/1k9Z1UJ
Have a Cigar
I was so jubilant with his return that I didn’t notice the cigar at first. It stood taller than he did. He flashed his toothy grin and said, “Congratulations”
“Whatever for?”
“I understand that it’s customary to smoke one of these on such occasions.”
He passed it to me. He then produced another from a place best left unmentioned and lit it. He inhaled deeply and blew a smoke ring towards the ceiling.
“I have some good news for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a father.”
“What!?”
“Many times over as a matter of fact.”
Son of a bitch.
Francisco Goya pays a return visit to the Drabbles of Art series with his painting 'Witches' Sabbath'. The drabble for this didn't go to plan. I had an idea for something more series but then I remembered Terry Prachett's wonderful Discworld witches:-)
You can find the earlier drabbles in this series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
Witches' Sabbath by Francisco Goya
“What the hell is that?”
“What?”
“The giant stuffed goat.”
“Well, we don’t summon him anymore. Not like the old days, so I brought it to remind us.”
“Even back then we didn’t summon goats. It looks weird.”
“It’s not a goat – it’s Baphomet. Anyway it’s okay for you to bring your baby and who knows what Miriam’s skeletal homunculus is all about!”
“Well the fresh air does the baby good and he likes your goat, so I wouldn’t complain too much if I where you.”
“It sets the mood though, doesn’t it?”
“No, and don’t bring it here again.”
The latest drabble in the Tales of the Imp series has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter. You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
A Magic Number
The news that I was now a father came as quite a shock, but I handled it pretty well.
“How many children do I have?”
“Six hundred and sixty five. With one more due any day now.”
“How can it be so many? I haven’t slept with that many women!”
“Well I provided some help on that front.”
“How?”
“Have you heard of ‘milking the prostate’?”
I shook my head.
“That’s probably for the best. It almost didn’t work anyway because my arms weren’t quite long enough.”
“But why?”
“A good question and it’s time for you to find out.”
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A couple from me which have appeared in Indie Book Bargains' newsletter over the past few days -Fever
She had felt ill for days but had finally collapsed. Her eyes were over-bright, her skin clammy and she coughed incessantly. Her bed of a blanket thrown over sacks of straw was no worse than most in the town. It was soaked in sweat. She shuddered with the fever; her teeth chattered as she shook in the grip of the ague. The rats were shuffling and scratching behind the wooden wall. Was that what she could hear? That rattling sound? Eventually she discerned the source. It was wooden wheels clattering on cobbles. The plague cart would come for her tomorrow.
Grapes of Wrath
Mr Graham down the road grew the most wonderful grapes. They were dark, rich and sweet and he had amazing harvests. Everyone would have been thoroughly envious if he hadn't been so generous with them. Everyone in the street was presented with a bunch or two when the crop was ripe.
If anyone asked what his secret was (and many did) he would wink and say, "If I told you I'd have to kill you!"
One night, when looking for my ginger cat, Nugget, I spotted Mr Graham by his vine, shovelling earth over a sad scrap of red fur.
This week's Drabbles of Art piece is taken from Joseph Mallord William Turner's dramatic painting 'The Fifth Plague of Egypt' . It brought out an interesting 'what if?' drabble.
If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series (and it's worth it just for some of the paintings!) then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Fifth Plague of Egypt by Joseph Mallord William Turner
“How could you do this?”
“I didn’t do this – I simply warned them what would happen.”
“Don’t lie to me Moses. Of all people I know the truth.”
“Then you should know not to question what must be done.”
“But to destroy their entire civilisation?”
“These people have to be released. They must find their way to the Promised Land and be in the appointed place at the right time for him to arrive.”
“And you will lead them?”
“Of course. Who else can?”
“And what of these Egyptians?”
“They will submit or history will forget that they ever existed.”
The latest drabble in the Tales of the Imp series was featured in yesterday's Indie Book Bargains newsletter. If you want to read the previous drabbles in the series you will find them all here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
The Plan
“It all comes down to souls,” the Imp told me. “To become an adult demon I need a soul.”
“You have mine.”
“Yes I do, but to become a powerful demon I need more.”
“How many?”
“All of them.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Well obviously not every single soul, but as many as possible. Thankfully, like any true parasite humans reproduce remarkably quickly. It should only take ten or so generations to tip the balance.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You were the first and your children are the first generation.”
“I still don’t understand.”
He sighed.
“What do you know about genetic memory?”
Visit www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk to sign up for a daily drabble and Kindles bargains.
The image I've chosen for this week's Drabble of Art continues the biblical theme from last week's, although shifting into the New Testament. I first encountered Salvador Dali's 'Christ of Saint John of the Cross' as a young boy and was struck by its unusual perspective. It definitely stood out for me compared to the typical anguished Christ crucifixion depictions I was more used to.
I hope the drabble does something similar with a change in perspective, but in any case the idea for the conversation came to me immediately from the image!
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
And if you like them then feel free to share - I don't mind :-)
Christ of Saint John of the Cross by Salvador Dalí
“Father why have you forsaken me in my final hour of need?”
“I haven’t abandoned you my son.”
“Why do I only now hear your voice?”
“Because you became one of them my son. A base creature of flesh and impulse. It is only now as death’s veil approaches that you can hear me once more.”
“My trial has been for naught father. I have gazed down from this cross upon the ages to come and my suffering to wipe away their sins has been wasted. Why father?”
“Oh my son. Whatever made you think it would be so easy?”
I think you've broken through to another level with that one.
A new drabble of mine has been posted in today's Indie Book Bargains newsletter. Unusually for me it's not one that's part of an ongoing series!
You can find my other stand alone drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
Seconds from the End
I hated street patrol. A condition red alert meant every available officer was deployed throughout the city. This time of day families from all around crowded the market.
He stood out instantly. A white face usually did in this neighbourhood. The man’s shaved head, smart clothes and nervous disposition fit the profile. My glance surprised him and his sudden panic revealed his intentions.
I’d trained to draw my pistol quickly, but I wouldn’t be quick enough. His hand reached into his jacket as mine touched my gun. I started to aim in the same moment the blast wave struck.
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MorningUsually I love mornings. It's the way the light streams in through the curtains. Normally I'd open the window and take a lungful of air, but today it tastes stale and it's dark outside. I can hear workmen. Their graphic conversation reminds me of the dream I've just had. I used to dream about nice things, but since the accident it's been nothing but flashbacks. One of them tells the other a joke and I laugh at it.
Deciding it's time for breakfast, I raise my head, and bump it on the coffin lid.
Ha! Excellent! Is that your first? It won't be your last!
Yeah, it's my first. They're really addictive!!Erotic Friction
She stands there and lets me stare at her for hours. Her legs are shapely and she curves in all the right places. She's perfect for Me.
She lets me dress her. Sometimes I choose soft linens, sometimes I choose satins, but always the best.
We've had our wrinkles, but when it's hot, it's "hot". Usually it's just a quick morning fumble. I like it best though, when she lets me caress her for hours, murmuring gently as I press my weight against her, building to a crescendo of heat and sweat.
God, I love my ironing board.
The Glastonbury EvasionSitting here, hunched and shivering, legs numb, sweating. I don't know how long I've been here, but if anyone notices, it'll be the end of me.
The stench is filling my nostrils now, the noise coming from beyond the wall is deafening, but still I dare not move from here. If anyone sees me ... it's over.
The numb in my legs turns to hurt, but I daren't stretch them. Someone passes by and I hold my breath, hoping they don't notice.
Sensing my last chance, I shuffle into the cubicle next door, relieved at the sight of fresh toilet paper.
Okie, last one.Table for three
We've been best mates since we was kids, there's nuffin I don't know 'bout him, or him of me.
"How d'you do it?" I ask.
"Do what?"
"Surround yourself wiv gorgeous girls?"
"Dunno," my best friend replies. "It's not like I try."
A waiter comes by and drops a tray of drinks at the table.
For some reason, he pulls up the empty chair and sits.
My best mate wiggles his eyebrows at me and says, "This is Craig," and I finally get what he wants to talk to me about.
Strangely, it don't bover me none; he's my mate.
Gaff, do you know about Indie Book bargains? it's a free newsletter which drops daily into your inbox with news of free or reduced books. It also includes a daily drabble - you can submit yours there if you like. Add your author link to the site and it will allow readers to browse for your books if they like your drabbles.Google Indie Book Bargains to find it.
This week's image I've selected for the latest Drabble of Art is the wonderful work 'The Mysterious Archaeologists' by Giorgio de Chirico. It attracted me with it's strong imagery of the contrast of the two figures, but also the hint of cities within the figures. From there it was easy to draw a story of two cities in anthropomorphic form and what it might be like for them in a distant future as hinted by the ruins around them.
If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Mysterious Archaeologists by Giorgio de Chirico
“How long are we supposed to remain like this?”
“Until the end. You know the commandment.”
“I heard the words, but the masters are long gone. Their war ended millennia ago and they no longer infect our bodies. You should be pleased.”
“The word is the law. We are the embodiment of that law and here we stay.”
“Their civilisation has crumbled, they are no more. The world now belongs to the two of us and without your agreement I cannot leave. What do we do when their cities have returned to dust?”
“We wait.”
“For what?”
“For the end.”
That's quite profound!
Kath wrote: "Gaff, do you know about Indie Book bargains? it's a free newsletter which drops daily into your inbox with news of free or reduced books. It also includes a daily drabble - you can submit yours th..."Thanks Kath, I'll check it out. :-)
Welcome to the first drabbble in my new series - Drabbles of the Gods. In this series I will explore Gods from cultures around the globe. The Norse pantheon seems a good place to start and in particular Odin - or Mr Wednesday for Neil Gaiman fans - if you don't get the reference then you need to treat yourself to American Gods immediately!
Odin
In a vision I saw mighty Odin, one-eyed and bearded and cloaked in darkest night. With spear in hand and two wolves at his side he strode across the land. From high in the heavens sharp-eyed ravens shared their intelligence with him.
I have watched in my dreams as he reaches the great ash Yggdrasil. From its nine limbs he hung for nine days in spear-wounded sacrifice to learn the secret of language and the runes.
The same secret torments my dreams as I follow the same path, so I too can visit all the worlds of gods and men.
That about sums Odin up in 100 words! I like the visuals I get from it, especially with Yggdrasil. It's like something out of 300 going on in my head. Thanks.
G.J. (Gaff to my friends) wrote: "That about sums Odin up in 100 words! I like the visuals I get from it, especially with Yggdrasil. It's like something out of 300 going on in my head. Thanks."No problem :-)
Henry Fuseli's painting 'The Nightmare' is such a classic horror image than it was inevitable that it would feature in my Drabbles of Art series. I couldn't resist going for a more fun interpretation than usual for the image though :-)
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli
Dear Diary,
I’m so happy to have Ink in my life. I can’t believe my good fortune. I sometimes wonder why he doesn’t visit during the day, but when he does visit he makes me feel complete.
I know my friends wouldn’t consider him handsome. His skin is rough and his body stunted, but that doesn’t matter to me. I feel so safe in his arms that I never want to leave them.
His deformities make him unique, but one in particular, and I’m blushing as I write this, brings me such pleasure that I swoon to think about it.
Love that picture. It's the look on the creature's face!
He doesn't look like someone enjoying his work :-)
He's sulking because the horse is laughing at him :-)
The Hero.Often the subject of his story, the hero is great and powerful. This hero is great. This hero is powerful; but he's not the subject. In his story, the subject is Death, Magic and Human Nature. When I spoke to the hero, he told me so.
I saw him in his armour. He shone like the sun, and all who looked upon him were in awe. His mighty weapon was his pen; his power, his ink.
Now the hero is gone and only his legacy remains. My heart is sad for his passing, but my resolve is stronger for it.
My first encounter with Tiamat was a many headed dragon in the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon many years. While browsing Wikipedia I discovered that I wasn't alone in this, so it seems only fair that the latest Drabble of the Gods puts the record straight!
You can read the first drabble in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Tiamat
From my loins and the seed of Abzu I birthed the gods and still they betrayed me. Like cowards they murdered their father, so I created creatures to support my son Kingu for vengeance.
The gods trembled at their approach, but Anu plotted and convinced the fearful to exalt his status.
Anu felled me with a club to the head. Before I recovered he split me in twain and from my ribs formed the heavens while my falling tears made the two great rivers. In the sky he cast my tail to become the band of stars across the sky.
We delve into Maori tradition for this week's Drabble of the Gods and with the rather sinister Whiro.
You can find the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Whiro
The dread lord of the underworld Whiro dwells in shadow waiting to rise. From his dark realm he pollutes our lives with his evil.
Yet death brings no freedom from his grasp unless the spirit is freed from the body by fire. Those not cremated descend to the underworld to be consumed by him and with each meal he grows stronger.
We must deny his sustenance - if we do not then he will grow strong enough to ascend into our world. All should fear the day he arrives for every one of us will become food for his hunger.
We're a little low on drabbles at BookHippo.ukOriginal content like drabbles helps us to climb up the Google ranks. Please submit more drabbles:
http://bookhippo.uk/addHundred.php
Rosen wrote: "We're a little low on drabbles at BookHippo.ukOriginal content like drabbles helps us to climb up the Google ranks. Please submit more drabbles:
http://bookhippo.uk/addHundred.php"
Rosen, if you want to post any of mine from here, feel free, I don't mind.
Thanks. Perhaps you could submit them?
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Books mentioned in this topic
Lost Innocence: The Accused (other topics)Azazel (other topics)
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I continue the Drabbles of Art series with Joseph Wright's painting 'Two Girls Dressing a Kitten by Candlelight'. I had a lot of fun with this one and I think the drabble provides an unusual slant to the picture while still fitting with it. The expression on the kitten's face sold it to me instantly!
If you've not read the other drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
Two Girls Dressing a Kitten by Candlelight by Joseph Wright
“You shouldn’t tease him so,” Lucy told her sister.
“But he looks so cute in the dolly’s dress,” Janine replied.
“That’s true, but see how he glares. There’s real fury in his eyes.”
“Inside the circle he’s powerless, so we can do whatever we like.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Lucy answered. Her fingers traced around the markings on the table. “I found this circle and the markings in one of grandma’s old books. As long as he stays within the circle we can do whatever we want and I want to dress this demon like a doll.”