The Victorian Lady – July 17, 2014 (Flash Fiction)

6. © Eclectic Odds n Sods

I was walking down a lane in an old district of London one evening when I suddenly realized that the light of a lamp-post cast a shadow that shouldn’t have been there.

It was in front of an old run down brownstone house. The other buildings weren’t modern of course, but they’d been recently refurbished. To me the windows resembled empty woeful eyes, looking on a world with which it felt no kindred ship.

The street light flickered and suddenly I felt dizzy. To my surprise a beautiful young girl stood not far from me.

“Ohi Gov, would you be wantin’ some company this evenin’?”

She was talking up an elegant gentleman, who looked to be in his forties. He was your classical strait laced Calvinist sort.  I was fairly certain he wouldn’t be interested in her favours.

He looked disdainfully at her then hissed: “Harlot! Can one not walk down the streets in peace without being accosted by the likes of you!”

Then to my horror, he pulled out a knife and began to viciously stab her.

She screamed: “Oh Lord have mercy .. it’s Jack!”

Flash Fiction Prompt – We Drink Because We’re Poets

Barflys and Zeus-Intel: Science Fiction

Randis Albion @Deviant Art

Randis Albion @Deviant Art

I’d just come back from a Moon-jockying and the run had been long.  I couldn’t wait to get over to Midgly’s and have myself a cool draft Sinto.

I rolled into the warm familiar bar at around 8:30 standard.  The place was full, mostly with chipsters…some were playing squibble in the back room and you could hear an uproar when someone make a score.

I sat down on a bench near the end of the bar.

“Heh Bozze, how’s tricksters?” Molly querped at me.

“Same o same o.  Could you give me a draft?  And what about you?”

“Ach the new generation are so miserest.  Can’t turn a decent tipple for lube or money.” she said as she drew my draft.

A young chipster scyborge came rolling up behind me and gave me a pummel on my back.

“Hey Pops…back from the silt mines?  Haven’t they closed those down yet?”

“Nope, and suspect that Zeus-Intel won’t let them either.  That silt is what makes your chips so perky my lat!”

“Well, maybe you’re right about that!” he chumbled happily,  “Hey guys!” he called to the squibble players in the back room. “Pop’s back!”

“Hey Pop…come on over here and take a seat.  We’d like one of your stories!” Julien Assanger said, he was a tall pale scyborge just a model older than his companions. “Tell us about the last days of the humans.”

So I told them about the last ship that Zeus-Intel had created for the carbon based creatures that used to live on our sweet Gaia…how they had prepared our planet through Zeus-Intel’s wise directions for scyborge life, eventually burning off the last of the corrosive oxygen before they moved on to their own world, wherever that might be.

The barflys in the mean-time sucked up all the residue left on the tables and counter, they’d be milked later for their precious fluids that would then be processed and recycled.

“Yep, I worked on the last ships and saw them leave. They were strange creatures they were.  All soft and fragile like, tottering on their limbs, for you see, they had no wheels to steady them but walked on stick-like things called legs.  They all wore heavy-duty armor protection – from head to “foot” as they called their groundingpods.  They were truly altruistic creatures!  They needed a special mix of oxygen and other volatile gases to live, but sacrificed it all for us!  Zeus-Intel created their armor and special housing and in the end the last ships for them!”

At this point all the attention was on me. And some of the older scyborge’s raised their holdingpods and intoned: “Hail Zeus-Intel – Hail Humans!”

“No one knows where they came from.  Not even Zeus-Intel, who knows all. Once they’d begun to prepare our Gaia for us,”  I dropped my voice in proper respectful awe  “…they could no longer breathe and many died.  Finally there was maybe a couple of thousand left.  We all worked to build their ships out in the void between Gaia and Moonbase.”

“What were they like, the humans I mean?”

“Well now, I can’t rightly say.  I did have one supervisor who was human, a nice soft-spoken creature, kind of sad I guess you’d say.”

“And the day they left?”

“Well we shuttled them up to their ships … that took some days.  Then, Zeus-Itel had us all gather round mega screens and one by one they blinked out … like barflys do when they’re ready to be milked.  Nothing exciting about it at all…kinda poetical maybe.”

We all sat around our CPUs humming.

“That was neigh 200 years ago … I’d been activated about 20 years before as a building scyborge … of course I had new variations incerated into my memory banks once the project was over.”

“Hey Pops! Would you like to play a round of squibble with us?” one young chipster asked.

“Don’t mind if I do…Molly another draft Sint if you don’t mind.”


Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Tale Weaver’s Prompt go be inspired by this great prompt!
All in a Word – April 20, 2014

Cloud Walker – All in a Word Prompt

NefelibataHigh above,
Where humans rarely go
Nefelibata roamed
Writing poems
Creating worlds
Which you and I
Had never known …
Magically composed
Taking us into the realm
Of clouds …
Though a picture
Is worth a thousand words
A poetic image
By Nefelibata was worth more …
Until one day
He became
By the Earth
And no longer flew
In the sky above.

I’ve known more than one poet who could have been called Nefelibata…like Icarus they flew so high, and like Icarus they fell back to the Earth, but who knows unlike Icarus they may fly again!

Written for All in a Word – 13th Floor Paradigm

Power Prompt: Usquebae


I came upon the cottage one cloudy moonlit night. A yellow light shone from the window, yet I knew it to be abandoned.  I got off my horse, and walked up the steps to the door.

Suddenly, the light went out.

“Hello! Who’s there!” I shouted though I knew not why.

I pushed at the door and found it oddly open. So, I proceeded to walk cautiously into the room.There, on the old scarred hard-wood table was a bottle.  I picked it up and took a whiff.

“My oh my…someone’s made some pretty fine moonshine!” I whispered.

“Aye, and I did! Finest usquebae ta be found!” replied a craggy voice.

The bottle fell from my hand.

“Ach laddie, dae be careful! Me spirits been here nigh 100 years…”

And so I knew how the McCloud’s secret moonshine formula lived on.

(*whiskey as it was known in 1715)

Written for Bastet’s Writing Prompt

Power Short: Gaia




The acid rains have stopped.  We now have plants again, since the rain is clean.  We still have to filter out the heavy metals before drinking the stuff…but now we can collect the rain water for washing.

Many ruins remain to testify to the ancient’s building powers.  Poor burnt out things; sometimes you’ll find doors opening onto thin air.

Our wise ones, the poets saved many books and seeds from the fanatic’s fires, we can read and have dictionaries.  After the burnings, we, their descendents, returned from hiding; the fanatics were gone.

May all thanks be raised to Gaia.

Rondeau Redoublé: Cyberbullies

Rondeau Redouble


Seems we prefer victims once they are dead.
Easier to sit back than take up a cause,
Silently watching we aide and abed,
Laughing with bullies we sharpen their claws!

So used to cruelty it gives us no pause,
Meek are the victims and carefully bred
We love martyrs I think this because,
Seems we prefer victims once they are dead.

Maybe it’s fear we’ve grown in our head.
We won’t defend victims from bully outlaws.
Better be quiet you see we’re well-bred.
Easier to sit back than take up a cause.

A victim the tough guy chews in his maws.
The silly chicken or the gross dead-head,
Ridiculing, hurting seeking guffaws…
Silently watching we aide and abed.

He’s funny baiting the nerdy egghead,
Such a great show, he deserves your hurrahs!
Tomorrow maybe you’ll be the knucklehead…
Laughing with bullies we sharpen their claws!

Taught you’d go to heaven turning your cheek
Taught to hold back and never be exposed
Taught to love the strong and despise the weak
Taught to laugh when some bunny just explodes
Seems we prefer victims.

Written for:  Special Prompt: Cyber-bullying – A Challenge
Traces of Soul .

Power Short: The Gnome

Bastet’s Power Short Prompt!  Genre:  Fairy Tale (or Fantasy)…and it’s not necessary to write it for children.

olive-treeThe Gnome

The gnome lived in an old olive tree.  He’d watched as over the years the land had been changed.  The dryads, fairies and pixies had all taken to the mountains long ago.  No place for them to live now.

It looked like he too would move.  Men had  built their houses and building all around him.  Recently, the fields that he used to hunt in, had become a parking-lot. The river was still near, but  no cover to hide in as he ventured forth to fish.

His tree had been saved, but not his home.

The last of the old Magic was leaving the land.

Power Shorts: Natural Magic

Write a magical Power Short!  Genre then is Fairy Tale (or Fantasy)…and it’s not necessary to write it for children.


Natural Magic

Austere, looking out from her point of observation, the cat, Misty contemplated the world.

The noisy dog pulling on its lease began to bark at her.  She looked at him, closing one eye at a time.

“I know you, you wicked creature!  You take advantage of man’s good heart!” the dog said in animal language.

“And I know you…man’s slave!”

The dog barked even more fiercely, but the man pulled him up short before he could attack the cat.

She meowed, the man smiled and then pulled the poor furious dog down the path.

“A cat’s magic is independence” she’d meowed to the man.