Category: Stichomancy Prompts

Guillermo Whispered

  • surprisingly good British
  • had transformed the fox
  • across the blue waves
  • as always in ritual
  • the tickle of his mustache
  • it’s the city of victims now

Guillermo whispered in my ear, “It’s the city of victims now,” in a surprisingly good British accent. The tickle of his mustache awakened those shuddering desires that once before had transformed the fox into a tiger.

He spoke in gloom, of a distant perished land across the blue waves. But as always in ritual, the weight of feeling is kept askew and doesn’t become a burden.

He touched my shoulder and left me to shudder alone.

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Who Undergoes A Miraculous Transformation

  • by jen“My God!” Emilio Salvatore protested
  • wiped his hands on a towel
  • undergoes a miraculous transformation
  • first sensible thing you’ve said today
  • some submarine convulsion
  • electrical engineers, artists, orthopedic surgeons

“Who undergoes a miraculous transformation every week, anyway? Not electrical engineers, artists, orthopedic surgeons…”

“My God!” Emilio Salvatore protested loudly. “My God does!”

Emily’s face underwent some submarine convulsion as she stared at Emilio.

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said today,” spat Emilio as he wiped his hands on a towel.

“I didn’t say anything!” Emily said.

“Exactly.”

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Archibald Raised Each One

  • each one of his middle fingers
  • between that and the black pearls
  • She does not want a husband
  • I want to examine them
  • you have been honored twice
  • squared his shoulders
  • as hungry as wolves

Archibald raised each one of his middle fingers at Hubert, and said, “You have been honored twice. Now move aside.”

Hubert squared his shoulders, displaying the fine beadwork of his dickie. Between that and the black pearls in his earlobes, Hubert cut quite a figure. He said, “I know this is about Consuela, but it’s all for sham. She does not want a husband who wears lacy petticoats any more than she wants one adorned with beads and pearls.”

At this, Archibald canted his hips self-consciously.

“Wait,” Hubert added. “Your fingernails, I want to examine them.” He studied Archibald’s still upraised fingertips with eyes as hungry as wolves.

“It was Consuela’s idea. Each one shows a different wonder of the ancient world. I think you’re wrong about her, and if you shift your prissy ass I’m off to prove it!”

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from the comments, Kent has another take on the same prompt:

Roderick squared his shoulders and drove each one of his middle fingers, as hungry as wolves, at his opponent’s eyes. But her helm’s full visor protected her, its obsidian inlay inimical and depthless. Between that and the black pearls adorning her breastplate, she struck a mysterious and sinister figure, but a fetching one.

She does not want a husband, Roderick mused, but she possesses undeniable feminine charms and I want to examine them.

The dark lady slashed at him with her broadsword, and Roderick rolled away, his own blade still embedded in a tree trunk some paces to his left. From this low vantage he spotted the tattoos on the female warrior’s ankles.

“You have been honored twice!” he exclaimed.

Richard Took Off His T-Shirt

  • by jenlike you’ve poured ink on your head
  • his eyes were pure chocolate
  • tried to cut his own hands off?
  • in the car with the baby wipes
  • Richard took off his t-shirt
  • flashed a self-deprecating smile

Richard took off his t-shirt and flashed a self-deprecating smile as he flexed his impressive pecs in time to the pulsating dance music. His hair was the distinctive blue-black that looks like you’ve poured ink on your head in an attempt to look like Elvis. His eyes were pure chocolate chip cookies of lust. Sally decided right then and there that she wanted to screw him, out in the parking lot in the car with the baby wipes and juice boxes, and all the other symbols of her suburbanized domesticity. Sally knew it was sinful to do what she was thinking of doing with Richard while her husband Cliff was in the hospital, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be married to Cliff anymore. Who would want to be married to a man who, when asked to help with the dishes, tried to cut his own hands off?

Sally smiled and took Richard’s intact hand, leading him out of the club.

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Oedipus Giggled

  • sometimes I get overzealous
  • bouncing a diapered kangaroo on my knee
  • the bird in the paper bag
  • Oedipus giggled all the way home
  • make an asparagus omelet
  • sleep-taught toilet training
  • me and my herniated module

Oedipus giggled all the way home from his therapy session, smitten by the idea that all of his troubles were the result of sleep-taught toilet training.

The bird in the paper bag said, “Sometimes I get overzealous,” and it was true. The bag had nearly filled up with eggs by the time Oedipus reached his house. He planned to make an asparagus omelet, but thought it prudent not to inform the bird.

When he opened the door, his jaw and the bag of eggs both hit the floor. There I sat, bouncing a diapered kangaroo on my knee.

“Should you be doing that?” Oedipus asked.

He always worries about me and my herniated module.

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Lord Bolliet’s Alcoholic Haze

  • by jena still-damp, raw-boned gelding
  • had not seen any “girls” at the house
  • in London or Kent he could have obtained
  • French breeding — but
  • Lord Bolliet’s alcoholic haze

Lord Bolliet’s alcoholic haze made it difficult for him to disguise his aristocratic French breeding — but his very life depended on it this dangerous evening. The revolutionaries were on the hunt tonight. In London or Kent he could have obtained forged travel papers, but here in Canterbury he had no allies, no one to turn to in his time of desperation. All the ale he’d imbibed made him feel like a still-damp, raw-boned gelding on the way to the glue factory. Bolliet shook his head, not for the first time, and returned to his solitary vigil. He hoped to find a safe place to hide for a few days and  had set his sights upon the rundown inn across the lane. So far he had not seen any “girls” at the house, but did not fully trust his ale-sozzled faculties and, so, determined to crouch in the hedgerow a while longer.

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Oh Hell

  • a paper cup of hot chocolate
  • sat neatly on the back of her neck
  • Allan Goth, the unshutupable
  • Nothing exotic.
  • She’s a trained beautician
  • “Well, Dr Greenlea,”
  • we’re going to nail Aaron’s ex-wife
  • The red-haired boy was on his left
  • Oh hell
  • I disagree with this brash fool

Oh hell. Here comes Allan Goth, the unshutupable. He’ll have some screwball order, as usual. “What’ll it be today, Al?”

“Nothing exotic. A paper cup of hot chocolate, with an olive.”

“Comin’ right up.” Weirdo.

“And later,” here he goes, he’ll talk all night, “we’re going to nail Aaron’s ex-wife. She’s a trained beautician if I’m a kangaroo. Which I’m not. Jeff should have listened to me and had his nails done at Mario’s, the red-haired boy was on his left and they were really hitting it off. I said he should stay, but he announced ‘I disagree with this brash fool‘ like he has any real sense of his own, I mean Aaron told him never to go near his ex but what do you think he did next?”

“Well, Dr Greenlea, my mom’s gynecologist, would say –”

“Screw that quack. He wasn’t even there. So Jeff lost a finger, long story short, and Aaron’s ex just saddled her mare and left. But I don’t know where she got such an odd saddle. And the horse must be a masochist if she likes it. The saddle she used sat neatly on the back of her neck.”

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We Finally Reached

  • by jensat around the dwellings
  • Are you still left-handed?
  • a desperate plea for sanity
  • ten mile hike with a full backpack
  • I became too feeble to move
  • which inspired the nickname
  • my fake damn bladder
  • if the plane crash hadn’t killed him
  • going into the lawn care business
  • that patch of New Mexico soil

We finally reached that patch of New Mexico soil we’d heard so much about. After the ten mile hike with a full backpack we endured to reach this place, I became too feeble to move, and so sat around the dwellings with the others. Our immobility was in response to a desperate plea for sanity from our overtaxed muscles. Conversation centered around Bob’s plan for going into the lawn care business, until he looked at me and abruptly asked, “Are you still left-handed?“

I responded in the affirmative which inspired the nickname Lefty. Bob was never known for his creativity.

At that point my fake damn bladder started acting up and I cursed the day I’d ever met Bob’s brother Lou. This was all his fault. If the plane crash hadn’t killed him, I would have done it myself by now.

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We Never Did Manage

  • I can bring a wild duck
  • kissed me on the lips
  • Monique had been faithless
  • distrust turned to horror
  • and brandy if the gentlemen wish
  • He wriggled and wailed

We never did manage to make our picnic plans. Hector had just announced, “I can bring a wild duck, and brandy if the gentlemen wish,” when Silas’s indiscretions boomeranged in front of everyone.

Silas opened the conference room door and sidled in. At first I was happy at his unexpected arrival, but then Monique broke down in sobs and fled the room. Confused, I looked to Silas for an explanation and read the misery in his eyes.

“Valerie,” he began, tears choking off the rest of his worlds. He wriggled and wailed and kissed me on the lips, although I didn’t kiss him back. I could not trust him, his erratic behavior. Distrust turned to horror as I realized Monique had been faithless as a friend, faithless to her own husband, and Silas was a sorry fool to whom I had given half my life.

So the picnic plans kind of never got worked out.

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I Dare Not Kiss You

  • by jen“She works so hard.”
  • corrupted by your father’s notions
  • To John’s dull perceptions
  • I dare not kiss you
  • but now the bitter aftertaste

“I dare not kiss you,” she said, meaning, “Our previous kisses were sweet while they lasted, but now the bitter aftertaste is all that remains, the joy corrupted by your father’s notions of class distinctions and I dare not risk raising his ire again.”

To John’s dull perceptions it merely sounded like rejection. He blamed her cooling ardor on the long days she spent toiling cleaning his family’s mansion. “She works so hard,” he reminded himself. “I really should learn to pick up my own dirty socks.”

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