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Drabbles Needed! Authors, have a go.

"How did the Nile come to be?
When the world was still flat, Sahara walked the walls of her father's palace, mourning the loss of her fiancée, Prince Nile. Her great love had died in a battle that lasted an age.
Inconsolable with grief, she cried a billion tears, that covered the valley where he was buried, until it overflowed.
Refusing to eat or drink, she eventually joined him at the oasis.
To this day her desiccated body still rests at the palace, her arm outstretched, clutching his hand in hers.
Each year, their love blossoms anew, renewing their vows."

You can read my other drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
The Perfect Moment
She promised me delights of a nature unimagined and oh my God, she was right.
With delicate torture we travelled avenues of such exquisite pain that the pleasure transcended beyond understanding.
The final cut severed the illusion that death provided any escape and unfettered by the limits of flesh she taught me suffering so divine I prayed that it would never end. Upon an ocean of agony I drifted. Each wave crested me towards that singular perfect moment, a nirvana of pure agony which almost drowned my soul.
And with loving embrace she ignored my screams and answered my prayers.



The latest Drabble of the Gods takes us to Africa and the trickster god Anansi. If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Anansi
It is thanks to Anansi that stories fill the world by releasing them from the Nyame. To purchase the stories the Sky-God demanded three offerings.
The first was Onini the Python who Anansi tricked by tying him to a branch. The second was Osebo the Leopard who Anansi snared in his web after trapping the cat in a deep hole.
Last were the Mboro Hornets. These he lured into a water filled calabash to shelter from the rain. Keeping his promise Nyame granted Anansi ownership of all stories and to this day the trickster walks the Earth searching for more.


For this week's Drabble of the Gods we visit central Mexico and meet Itzpapalotl from the Aztec pantheon. If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Itzpapalotl
From Tamoanchan, our birthplace, and the paradise for those born into death, the Obsidian Butterfly rules. Her skeletal visage is fearsome with eyes of onyx and claws of flint. To an unlucky few she appears fair, with beauty enough to deceive and ensnare a man’s heart.
She walks as one with the star demons, the hunters of souls when the sun is swallowed from sight. Her house is built from the bones of those attempting to bring forth life.
She is Itzpapalotl and with death in my womb and blood pooling between my legs, to her house I will pass.


This week's Drabble of Art is based on The Fall of the Damned by Peter Paul Rubens and I quite believe I've not seen this painting before. Those of you that know my writing will adgree that it fits in nicely and I had great fun writing a drabble about it!
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 Fall of the Damned by Peter Paul Rubens
I witnessed the moment when the archangel Michael cast Lucifer and the rebels out of Heaven. Even he seemed surprised when God decreed that their punishment would be banishment. Many of us expected that the punishment would be more severe considering their sin.
The first sin in all creation.
Nobody died in the war. Angels can’t die unless God himself dissolves us. Nobody died, but plenty suffered – on both sides. And then when I watched the pit open and Michael force the rebels into it we realised what Hell meant and dissolution would have been a far more merciful fate.

Ah, that's life!
She's at the door, waiting for me to come home. Kitty and I have an understanding. Sometimes she brings me presents, some times I bring her treats.
I watch her basking in the sun. She laps up summer like a bowl of cream. When it rains, she scampers back indoors. Those days, we lie curled up, all cosy-like, on the sofa together.
If I tickle under her chin, she makes contented purring noises. She can be gone all night sometimes, but she always comes back to me.
Yup, that's life. Especially when you're dating a bearded lady.

"Twenty One, Twenty Two ..."
I like games. I like being "It". Today it's hide and seek with Jack and Jill. Those aren't their proper names, but it's what I call them, because they're always together.
"Twenty Three, Twenty Four ..."
I can hear them trying to hide upstairs. I'm good at hide and seek. Jack's in the front bedroom. Jill's in the wardrobe, but they think I don't know.
We're playing at Jill's house. I like Jill's house. I was here the other day.
"Twenty Six, Seven, Eight. Ninety Nine. One Hundred!"
I've got my favourite knife.
"Coming, ready or not!"

Would you like a Best Drabble category in the SpaSpa Awards? I would be happy to host it, but don't have time to compile nominations myself. Any takers?
Rosen

Probably next week - I don't have internet at home at the moment so no research :-(

Would you like a Best Drabble category in the SpaSpa Awards? I would be happy to host it, but don't have time to compile nominations myself. Any takers?
Rosen"
I'd be up for this and would be happy to help organise.

To a Young Writer
If you're aware that Kipling was an author
While all your friends are contemplating cake;
If all around are mesmerised by gameshows
While you've a thirst no game or app can slake
Never apologise for being different,
For knowing the world is not the way it seems.
We're never short of people making money
But how we need those seekers after dreams.
If you can let your raw imagination
Gallop away unbridled, hectic, wild,
Then you can enter worlds nobody's dreamt of
And, which is more, you'll be a person, child.
Apologies to Mr Kipling who bakes exceedingly good stories

5 o'clock in the morning is an odd time to be Kipling. I'm sure I've never Kipled then.

To Kiple - should have a dictionary definition. It did bring to mind a very rude joke about Mr Kipling, tarts and cream ... Perhaps I ought to post it in Vanessa's naughty room instead.

Eye of Newt and Rabbit's tongue,
Something wicked this way comes.
Bladder of bat and peppermint oil.
First you simmer, then you boil.
Ear of goat and tail of sturgeon,
Fetch the doctor; fetch the surgeon.
Hand of monkey, eye of skink.
Three times clockwise, let them sink.
Heart of a damned man undone,
Dust with sprinkles, just fun.
Serve with rice while the odour lingers,
Pomegranate and ladies fingers.
Side of salad, buttered bread,
glass of beer and shot of lead.
For more recipes, and tips on cooking times, please purchase your copy of Dinner for Two at ...

Oh, go on then! I'm persuaded. :)

I see the sun. It feels warm on my face and makes my skin tingle.
I see the grass. It's soft on my feet and the scent of it tickles my nose.
I see the birds in the trees. Their song is music to my ears and the swish-brushing of the leaves comforts me.
I see the woman I love. Her perfume excites me. Her breath in my ear makes me shiver.
I see my baby boy. His nose wrinkles and his lips curl when I hold him.
I see you. Staring at the blind man; hoping he won't notice.

Here's my today one -
Light Bulb Moments
My friend had just published his first novel on Amazon and, naturally, we were emailing about books, the way you do. So he said, “Here, I’ve got one for you, how many proof readers does it take to change a light bulb?”
“Go on then, tell me,” I said. He was a bit of a joker.
“Too!” he emailed.
I had to try to top that one. “Okay then, how many traditional publishers does it take to change a light bulb?” I asked him.
“I don’t know, how many?”
“None.”
“Why’s that, then?”
“Because traditional publishers are still using candles!”


This week's image is a new one to me and suggested by someone at work. I'm surprised I'd not encountered it before and I'm sure you'll agree The Triumph of Death by Pieter Bruegel the Elder provides some spectacular inspiration!
If you want to read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Triumph of Death by Pieter Bruegel the Elder
Wherever I look the taint of death blemishes the world and brings an end to the living. I see the Reaper lurking in our shadow, wearing a cloak weighed heavy with sickness, violence, age and grief.
There’s no escape, no way to prevent the inevitable. Rich or poor, young or old, we all meet him when our time comes. He follows our lives with his skeletal visage, waiting for that final moment.
Is he the cause of our mortality? Or merely witnesses its passing?
Does he welcome the meeting?
I imagine he does, for why else would he always appear?

He was always a bit standoffish. I could never get him to let his guard down but we both knew we liked each other. He’d come to see me but I knew he was wary and mistrustful. Not much wonder. It got to be a regular thing, seeing him each day and I’d talk to him but he was still so shy. I think what cemented our friendship was the time he hurt his leg. He depended on me more and that seemed to break down the barriers. We got closer. Now my little blackbird will feed from my hand.

Well done on the Hippo again today Kath :-) that one's definitely on my list of favourites for 2015.

Resurrection Man
So I sez to him, Syd, I sez “Straight up, guv, on me mother’s grave and all, this one’s fresh as a daisy! Only went into the ground this pee-emmer!” But he sez he wants to see a death certificate, and, he sez “not one hastily scrawled on a Rizla like last time”. Would you Adam and Eve it? He never used to be this partickler! I tells yer, Syd, it’s this new craze people has for leaving their bodies to science. It’ll be the end of another of the traditional crafts, you mark my words. Your round, in’t it?

Hush-a-bye and dream my love. Lay back down. Don't be afraid.
Mayor Jordan's all tucked up - with Layla from the corner of 3rd. It's okay, his wife will never know.
The addict in the alley has gone away - to the land of Nod. Until tomorrow. And Bob the cop's in the donut shop, protecting us from cholesterol, while Doctor 'W' teaches her daughter about the dangers of drink-driving. She'll live.
That sound was just some people over the road, shopping for food after hours again. Times are hard.
Hush now, while I load the shotgun, to keep you safe tonight.

http://bookhippo.uk/awards/longList20...
There are some wonderful drabbles in that list - including one of mine!

Big thanks to everyone who helped put it together. I'm looking forward to seeing the short list from those and feel sorry for anyone judging it!

The British Workman
The bloke from the council rang my gaffer up. They'd had an emergency and they wanted a gang of workmen to dig a hole in the pavement on the high street. They must have been desperate because that's not our line of work.
"Why are you ringing me?" the gaffer asked. "We don't dig holes, lad. We're brickies."
"You're workmen, aren't you?" said the lad from the council.
"Aye but we've not even got any shovels!"
"I'll get some shovels sent over," the lad replied. "In the meantime, can you improvise and lean on each other till they get there?"


In this week's Drabble of the Gods we travel to the far east and meet the dragon of the sea - Toyotama-hime.
If you want to read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:#
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Toyotama-hime
In the gaijin tongue she is the lady of the bountiful soul, the dragon of the sea. She fell in love with the mortal fisherman Hoori and they lived beneath the waves. In time he yearned to return to the land above and despite her pregnancy she agreed.
They lived in harmony until the time of their son’s birth. She bade her husband to leave them unobserved for she knew that only in her natural form could she give birth.
He allowed curiosity to overwhelm his promise and ashamed that he’d seen her true form she fled into the sea.
Books mentioned in this topic
Lost Innocence: The Accused (other topics)Azazel (other topics)
Authors mentioned in this topic
Andrew K. Lawston (other topics)Andrew K. Lawston (other topics)
This was a completely new image for me, but as soon as I saw it while browsing the Google Art Project I had to include it in the Drabbles of Art series. It's definitely worth checking out his other paintings and I'm sure I'll return to him in the future.
If you not read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Commuters by Wolfgang Lettl
“Would they really shoot us with that cannon?” the first finely dressed man asked, the fear restrained, yet clearly evident.
“I think that they would, but we’ve no choice,” said the second. “How else will the world know of what happened in this place?”
“Maybe the girl will distract them,” suggested the third with brittle hope.
“Don’t let her distract you!” the fourth shouted. “We’ll only get one shot at this.”
“We are already at full speed,” the fifth told his compatriots. “The fans won’t go any faster, they just don’t have the power.”
“Prepare to fire,” ordered the girl.