In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Third From the Top.”
The third blog on my following list is TheGEorgIAprincESs (Thegeorgiaprncess.wordpress.com)
The sentence was ‘The good, the bad, the ugly…’
My faith, my family, my friends, country walks, WordPress, My Kindle Fire, Pay day, watching anime on YouTube, that documentary I watched on The Normans last night.
All these wars that are going off around the world- what’s it all leading too?; my current lack of activity on WordPress; similarly, why am I not inspired to do any writing lately?; bananas – they just don’t agree with me; plus, The Normans were, in fact, quite a naughty bunch!
As above in ‘The Bad’. Man, bananas really are a bad thing for me. And The Normans really did upset me!
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “32 Flavors.”
1) Pork chops
2) Ian the Cardboard Soldier
3) Blonde Nonsense
4) Andy from Emmerdale
5) The Tendency of Florists
6) Quotation Marks
7) Cheeky offer on Tammy Wynnette’s House
8) $5000 or £5000? You decide
9) You’ve moved to Dundee
11) Namibian carpet wholesaler
12) Now you’re in Luton
13) Sir Anthony Hopkins and the cast of ‘Taming of The Shrew’
14) Aggro Donkey versus Clive
15) I’d like to visit Quebec one day.
16) I’d trust a marsupial given half a chance.
17) Can you remember the last time you bit an exercise book?
18) Herman is back
19) Rita made rug therapy for lunch
20) My favourite pizza had plastic surgery
21) Exhausted ZOD Petitions
22) ‘The Canterbury Tales’ by Mitt Romney
23) Past Pupils versus Ill Hedges
24) Fleppy Neptile washed the Snezwost.
25) Is Antartica just the world’s dandruff reserves?
26) Moon on a stick
27) Let’s all go to Zurich and limp about.
28) It’s a tragedy about Xena Warrior Princess not working in a Post Office/ Pork Scratchings
29) Peanut Butter
30) Poindexter Cup?
31) The Hulk isn’t green, it’s only paint
32) Roller skates – wheels = shoes
Aargh! Help me, I’ve got writer’s block.
Ideas wrung out like a wet sock.
Mind blanks happen all the time,
I curse, I cry and I whine.
My brain’s jogged off somewhere new –
Watching TV’s the only thing I can do.
I’m not short of bits and bobs to work at,
But I’d rather sleep like a big fat cat.
This is just a phase – been here before
Just stay disciplined, lock the door,
Fight the blank page and let it flow
Find the space to let ideas grow.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Study Abroad.
I’d like to live and study abroad in Japan, particularly the Okinawan Islands.
I love lots of different things about Japan: anime, manga, films, the history, the food. I keenly watch the NHK International News channel too. The contrast of life in the hustling, bustling cities to the quietness of the countryside is so different to any other country on earth – I feel that there is such a mystical quality about the Japanese countryside that transcends time.
I would chose the Okinawan Islands because there is city life, countryside and sweeping beaches.
Visiting Japan is the stuff of dreams at the moment, but I hope to make it reality some day.
This is a dark tale on the dangers of courting evil………
A row of implements lined the far wall, all of them designed for torture of one kind or another. In front of these, a table stretched the full width of the dungeon. Upon it sat more tools and devices, more opportunities for pain.
The king ran a finger over these, as if he were removing dust from any normal household ornament. A sly smile revealed corroded teeth that breached an otherwise handsome face, and he paused at one particular item: a small box with four mechanical pincers on each corner. Made from solid silver and quite weighty, the box featured diamond patterns on the top surface, increasing in size as in a ripple of water. He handled it gently, slowly taking in every contour, savouring the feel of it.
“This is perfect, my dear. We will soon be there,” he exclaimed.
“One more experience of pleasure-pain in this existence and we will be free,” replied the queen, a hint of excitement in her voice.
“It will be a good death. My only grievance is that I cannot arrive at the same time as you.” He smiled at her.
“Do not worry. You will not be long after me; we will soon be reunited.”
The queen was strapped to a rack by the dungeon entrance, the torchlight causing her shadow to dance against the wall. The tight silk gown she wore accentuated her slim features, giving her an almost vulnerable quality, only denied by her malevolent stare.
“Start it now, my King. We will soon be in paradise,” she begged, a hint of a smile curling the top of her lip.
“We shall leave this sorry mess behind. Our reward waits on the other side,” he said, pressing a button on the side of the box. A few seconds later, a motor whirred as the pincers snapped repeatedly. Soon, the diamond pattern began to glow and throb, causing him to squint as he looked at the small object.
“I am told by the guard that the pain a person feels gives rise to a sudden and prolonged euphoria,” she remarked, almost casually. “But is it really necessary for me to be strapped in?”
“Yes,” replied the king, “as others I have witnessed initially resisted. This way you will be guaranteed the full experience.”
He looked to the small window above the utensils and gadgets. Outside, howls of pain, the clash of swords ringing together and the thump of pounding feet provided the soundscape. The peasants had taken the opportunity to storm the castle while a large portion of the army had been called away to settle a dispute on the northern borders – a dispute that the king and queen had actually manufactured themselves.
Turning to her once again, the king matched his queen’s doughy expression, happy and resplendent with love.
“Please, now. I can wait no longer,” begged the queen. “We have left a land in turmoil and fulfilled the prophecy!”
“I will do it now, my love,” he assured her.
As the king held his wife’s hand, a tear welled in his eye while he took a deep breath. Then, with a scream he slammed the box into her chest, watching wide-eyed as the pincers cracked through bone and clamped on her heart; they worked furiously, like manic spiders massaging the surface. Her wails reverberated off the stone walls, drowning out the sounds of battle.
Soon, however, she started laughing hysterically, as if little hands tickled her from within.
Her husband stepped back, trembling, seemingly overcome with anguish. “No, this is too much to bear. What have I… we done?” he hollered.
“Do not fear the ecstasy,” his wife said, as her body tensed and released in time to the repeated biting of the pincers. “It is beautiful.”
Suddenly, he spun away from her, his shoulders heaving as a broad smile grew on his previously horrified face. “This cannot be. To see you like this… I fear I will not be able to join you,” he said, fighting a rising mirth.
“The pleasure does outweigh that initial torment,” she replied. “You must; we made this vow when we married.” She grimaced more as the clamps gripped tighter, and her toes and fingers started to curl as aggressive charges ripped through her entire body. The box shone violently, becoming near-white against her rosy skin.
“I cannot bear the thought of looking at you,” he whispered, his voice now having a more eldritch quality about it: hollow and spooky.
Concern washed over her as she grimaced through the unbearable anxiety. “Are you okay, my King?” she retched.
“I am fine.”
She noticed his eyes had changed to a mucus yellow colour, and that he had a thin red slit instead of a pupil. Taking short, sharp breaths to curtail the escalating ache, the queen regarded her beloved’s new look and attitude. “What is this? And what… have you become? This pain… this pain… is too… much!”
“To experience real agony you must first remove the ecstasy,” boomed the demon king, his smile now an eerie grin. Think of this while the war rages on outside; a war that you caused. Pain and suffering will eat your Empire from within!” he laughed – a deep, low laugh that was almost like a growl.
“But… you… made the choices with me!” the queen pleaded.
“I merely fuelled your desire and no more. Just think! All those lives lost, because of you.”
“What about us? We…both knew our time…had come. We were meant to be together!” she cried, a slightly hysterical edge to her voice now.
Pulsating waves of phenomenal fear caused her brain to pound violently. She looked down at the box – was it capable of feeding off her emotions? As the pincers feverishly devoured her, she let out an acute shrill.
“You will still be going to the place we talked about, though I doubt it is the idea of paradise you have come to idealise. I shall be there in due course, but I have much work to do here first,” the demon said with a sweep of his arm.
“I do not understand. What are you?” she whimpered.
He leaned in, mere centimetres from her face. The queen screwed her mouth and eyes tight as an acidic, pungent breath burned her skin, and she yelled in agony as dissolving tissue gave way to bone.
The demon ogled her with deep fascination, a long, darting tongue emerging to lick cracked lips as he ripped the box clean from her chest, along with her still beating heart.
Grinning, he held it aloft. “I am the dream of your nightmare, my dear.”
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Reward.”
Reward means so much to me.
A reward is waking up on a Tuesday morning with a curtain glued to my hair.
A reward is seeing Fleppy Neptile flapping in the air.
Saying ‘Batman and Robin’ – well that goes without saying.
As does eating rice bin kites when you’re not playing.
A dad of times and a sock of thought,
And making sure the Bulner Bulner birdy isn’t caught.
These are my favourite things, I’ll never get bored.
For each thing in itself is a fair reward.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “In Loving Memory.”
As time moved forwards, he moved backwards. He claimed to have seen Westlife at Wembley Stadium in 1942. By 1934 he had collected all of Val Kilmer’s movies, having started the collection in 1957.
He witnessed the first humans land on Mars in 1925, or so the stories goes, after they had gone through rigorous tests between 2012-2022. He met William The Conquerer at the World Lego Convention in 1876, where they drafted the pilot episode of ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’.
He passed away due to cheese intoxication in 1712 in the presence of his best friend Ryan Seacrest.
I was just reading back over my aims for February (please see February 4th post entitled ‘Febolution’). I had two main aims: posting up a couple of stories, one of which had been professionally edited and proofread; sending my ‘Good Knight to Love Poem’ to poetree creations. At the back end of January, I also said I would revamp my site to include better headers and other bits and bobs.
Well, I achieved none of that! This wasn’t because I had fallen back into past behaviours and found it hard to devote myself to my endeavours. No, there was a beautiful and unexpected distraction that took up my time: WordPress’ Poetry course. As I mentioned in one of my comments in The Commons, I had a blast doing this; I learnt so much and it is already helping me to add more flavour to my story writing. I also read some fantastic poetry by other bloggers. The course was a real treat and has left me totally inspired.
I disciplined myself by trying to do each poetry assignment within a day. I’m fairly pleased with most of my efforts, but I felt that maybe I could have spent more time on some pieces. Still, beforehand poetry was only something that I occasionally dabbled in; now, it will be something that I do more regularly.
Another achievement in February was sending another story to be proofread. I feel that I learnt a lot of lessons from the first story being proofread and I’ve tried to apply these to subsequent attempts. I’m attempting to send at least one story a month to be proofread on payday, so that I have a self-set deadline to work too.
I am conscious that if I put up a list of aims every month only to set about doing other things, it seems that I have an aimless blog. So, whilst the Febolution has armed me with more skills – and I won’t be apologising for it – I’ll be back on track for March (‘Marching On’????). I think that the last couple of months have had a trial and error element to them in terms of the site’s development. But I can see shapes forming in the fog. I’ll post my stories up in the next week or so and review a few creative writing books too.
And that’s a promise.
Happy writing everybody!!