Tag Archives: Monday Mixer

Monday Mixer: Silver

This is for The Latinum Vault’s Monday Mixer, write a piece in exactly 150 words using at least three of the nine prompts: a place, a thing and an adjective. This one qualifies for Overachiever as I’ve used five of the prompt words.

Photo Source: Joe Mabel on Wikimedia (cropped by Lisa Shambrook and Instagram)

Gwenllian smoothed her fingers across the filigree threads, newly set, against the burnished silver cuff and absently wiped the dusty, glinting swarf from her work table. Tears fell as she stroked the soft, pink scar running down her face, recalling the scandalous lies and trite excuses she’d offered in his protection.

Now she hid herself away in the croft on the banks of Afon Caer and waited.

A mewling cry came from the small bedroom, and Gwenllian pulled her mind back from its dreams and stared up at the full, yellow moon. She snuffed out her candles, grabbed the annealed bangle and hurried towards the cry, wiping her tears of hiraeth as she moved.

She gently cwtched her daughter, placing the silver bracelet around the babe’s tiny wrist. “Ah, cariad, not long now…” She grabbed the rifle, propped by the cot, and loaded the silver bullet. “Now let him come…”

(150 Words)

Find Monday Mixer here…and take a look at the other entries…

Monday Mixer: Moonlight Tryst

8 Replies

This is for The Latinum Vault’s Monday Mixer. Write a piece in exactly 150 words using at least three of the nine prompts: a place, a thing and an adjective. I’ve gone for six, therefore putting myself up for Overachiever…

Photo by Lisa Shambrook Instagram Brannan (Please do not use without permission)

Nell struggled to keep up with Liam, striding ahead up the hillock. She shivered as the cool night air danced across her bare skin, and her thin skirt wrapped itself around her legs. Liam glanced back, waiting a few yards ahead, and Nell’s pulse quickened. He was gorgeous and profligate with her emotions, but she just couldn’t help herself, she’d follow him from one end of the river to the other if he asked. The crease in his brow faded as she caught up.
Overlooking the firth was a small copse, the surrounding farmland abandoned, a perfect place for a nocturnal tryst.
Now pensive in the moonlight, Nell allowed him to pull her to the ground and as his eyes flashed and he shuffled in the dirt, his yelp surprised both of them! Slightly relieved, Nell examined his nether regions and not in the way he’d desired. “Caltrops!” she giggled.

(150 Words)

Find Monday Mixer here, with all the other great entries!

Monday Mixer: Escape

4 Replies

This is for The Latinum Vault’s Monday Mixer. Write a piece in exactly 150 words using at least three of the prompt words: a place, a thing and an adjective.

www.flickr.com/photos/thelastkrystallos

Bitter winds tore at Harlan’s ragged, leather-clad legs as he trudged through the snow. His toes froze within battered boots, but he was too spent to notice.

“Move it, worm!” screamed Kane shoving his knife against Harlan’s cheek. “Got to make it before sundown, or we both freeze!” Neither the knife nor Kane’s derisive contempt made any difference to his prisoner’s footfalls.

Then the ice shifted and gave way. Pain seared through Harlan’s shoulder as his arm was yanked out of its socket. Kane’s shriek pierced the silence as he disappeared into the widening crevasse. Adrenalin surged and Harlan’s manaclebit into his wrist as Kane tried to claw back up the ice wall.

Harlan twisted and grabbed Kane’s dropped knife and wildly began sawing at his warden’s wrist while Kane withed in agony.

Harlan stood, silent and miniscule, drenched in sweat and blood, but at last he was free.

(150 Words)

Find Monday Mixer here and peruse the other entries…

Monday Mixer: To Protect

6 Replies

This is for The Latinum Vault’s Monday Mixer. Write a piece in exactly 150 words using at least three of the prompt words, a place, a thing and an adjective. I’ve decided not to shoehorn all nine words in today, there really was no place for patisserie for example, but I am incorporating six, so could still go for Overachiever!

Photograph and dragon painting by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use)

It was against the backdrop of early morning mist that he stood firm, aware that far off over the horizon battle was on its way. The rill outside his cave rushed down the hillside into the querulous river, and sunlight’s dancing diamonds on the surface matched the adrenalin surging through his taut muscles. He watched the sunrise and listened intently to the water’s gushing symphony. He dipped his head to drink and felt the water’s intrinsic energy intensify his own. He was on home territory and the bellicose fire dragon would have to fight long and hard.

He dug his claws into the rock, grinding the stone like a pestle as he waited. He would protect what was his, with his life if necessary, and his mind wandered for a moment, recalling the cherished egg, hidden like a precious marbled cabochon deep within his cavern, beneath his mate’s warm belly.

(150 Words)

Find Monday Mixer here, and look at the rest of the entries!

Monday Mixer: Like Magwitch

7 Replies

This is for The Latinum Vault’s Monday Mixer. Write a piece in exactly 150 words using at least three of the prompt words. I chose to try and use all nine words!

Photo by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

He stared across the desolate fenland, a barren expanse stretching from the mortuary to the distant shrouded hills. Like Magwitch, Henry’s lip sneered at his sodden feet, he should’ve thieved the sedulous attendant’s overshoes as well as his mackintosh, egalitarian, he was not. The cottage emerged from behind the damp, coiling mists, an oasis in his fraught mind, and he wiped his forehead with a crimson bandana discovered in the stolen coat’s pocket. Rain teemed endlessly and he sought protection from the unsavoury elements.
His foot kicked the cloche as he raced across the garden and cursed as glass shattered across the path, so much for a quiet entrance. He burst through the unlocked door.
She stood wide-eyed and open mouthed at the dripping man before her.
“Had a really bad day at work sweetie!” he began suddenly loquacious after the silence of the moor, “Car broke down…then it rained…”

(150 Words)

Take a look at the rest…

12 Days of Christmas: Music

11 Replies

Day three of Stacy’s Blog Hop and the gift is Music…I decided to continue a previous flash challenge which you can read here at Monday Mixer ‘Impasse’…let the music play…

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)

Music

Linten pulled the evanescent stone from his leather pouch and shook his head trying to rid his ears of the ringing from the explosion. The corridor was completely blocked and there was no going back… He could barely see the stone in his hands in the gloom, it glowed, but its power was fading fast. Linten closed his fingers around the warm stone. He could feel it vibrate in his palm and his hopes lifted, just a little.

“This had better work,” he muttered, “One wish and this is it…I need an escape …”

He drew in a deep breath then coughed as rock dust tickled his throat. As he finished coughing he opened his fingers and glanced down at the stone, now vibrating more intensely and he smiled. “C’mon, c’mon…” He thrust his tulwar back into its sheath and enclosed the stone in both hands. His moth fluttered against his cheek as he willed the stone to work its magic.

The stone began to sing, music pulsing through the cavern. The music continued, soft notes palpitating like Linten’s own heart, building to a crescendo. As the music reached fever pitch, Linten was enveloped in a tornado that ripped his breath away and he sank into oblivion.

Fluttering tiny wings roused him, he still clasped the stone within both hands and a gentle melody echoed in his head. His helmet sat upside down at his side and his moth crackled with tiny flames of worry. Linten sat, warily. He was out of the mineshaft and free, and he drew in a breath of fresh night air and opened his fingers revealing the evanescent stone. It tingled and he brought it to his lips, but as he kissed the precious rock the music stopped and the stone vanished, its duty done.

(300 Words)

A Jar of Fireflies 12 Days of Christmas Blog Hop

Day three: March – Music

Take a look at all the others:

Monday Mixer: Impasse

3 Replies

This is my first go at The Latinum Vault’s Monday Mixer. The rules are to write a piece in 150 words no more, no less, using at least three of the prompt words. So here we go…

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)

When the mineshaft blew explosions echoed down the corridors, ringing off the walls and Linten wondered if escape had ever been an option. Unbuckling his helmet to ease the clanging reverberation, he grabbed the hilt of his tulwar brandishing the sabre as he stared into the gloom.

“Light!” he demanded gruffly, spitting dust out of his mouth, and the little moth on his shoulder burst into flames. Linten’s eyes darted about the impasse and fine particles of pulverised rock settled in the crypt, dusting his armour.

He spoke, his voice echoing, “That’s enough!” He didn’t want to extinguish his moth’s intrinsic luminosity, not when it might be needed again. Its flames died away and it fluttered nervously.

“Okay…” he spoke softly now, “let’s see if this’ll work…” and he pulled a fast fading evanescent stone from his battered leather pouch. “She said a wish, just one…and I need it now!”

(150 Words)