Having just bared what passes for my soul over the past couple of days wrapping up what is essentially Volume One of the Memoirs, I thought I’d take Friday Fictioneers in a direction that it has never gone before, proving once and for all that I don’t actually have a soul, just a vacant space with a For Rent sign hanging off the door.
Before you read mine, you may want to go by Rachel Wisoff-Field’s purple page and read the other entries, which have got to be, well, different than mine, darlings. Maybe you’ll decide to try your hand at this challenge — to tell a self-contained story using only 100 words (more or less).
Do I look nervous to you?
Oh god, I look nervous, don’t I?
I don’t want to show any weakness.
Everyone hears rumours, but no one who’s been and returned will talk about it.
Poor Billy just hasn’t been right since he came back. He spends all his time rolling around in the tall grass bleating and repeating that he’ll never be clean again.
Clarisse the lamb screams every night in her sleep.
I just got my transfer notice today.
I’m trying my best to stay strong, but I’m nervous.
What exactly goes on at a Heavy Petting Zoo anyway?
100 Words (three of which are likely to get me banned from the Internet)
Apologies to animal lovers everywhere — except those type of animal lovers — no apologies to you, you filthy buggers.
As is my custom, I will share my favourites below as I discover them, though why you’d trust my judgement is beyond me, darlings.
First up we have “Cometh the Gruff”, a gothic tale in the tradition of Shirley Jackson by one of my new favourites, Mr. JKBradley
You’re going to think I’m being lazy and just picking two in a row, but KZ’s untitled take on a writer’s musings was full of wonderful language and tight prose. I’ve watched her writing get progressively better over the past couple of months, and I can’t believe I’ve never mentioned her here before now.
I was blown away, I mean, really floored, by The Owl and The Goat by bridgesareforburning (Ron Pruitt). I don’t know if I’ve missed his stories before, (and if I did, I’m truly sorry!) or if this is just the first one that stood out, but one thing’s for certain — I’ll be paying closer attention from now on.
Hannah Sears brought her A game this week with Holy Goat — the banter between Ben and Zeke is just perfect.
The Servant’s Plea by Björn Rudberg is creepy. Like something out of Evil Dead creepy. And very well written — I mean, honestly — how often do you get to use the words chthonic and hircine in the same story?
Renee Heath writes some of the most sensual fiction I’ve read, and when she’s on, she’s ON. This week’s Past Present Future is just beautiful and haunting.
I was hooked by the title of Honie Briggs’ Mourning Nude At Night, and was not disappointed by the tale. It’s dependent of heavy dialect, and I confess I had to read it a couple of times before I really appreciated what was going on, but the play on words is just perfect.