Six Sentence Stories is a weekly writers’ challenge hosted by Denise at Girlie on the Edge blog.
Join us and take part in the form here. This week’s cue word is: Bowl
Atomic Mage Exclusive!!! Click to hear the author make an absolute fool of himself by narrating his words in the style of Arthur Shelby from Peaky Blinders, Ian McKellen, Family Guy and Queen Elizabeth!!!
At the bottom of the bowl was a bad bone rising, and upon its broad and osseous bulk was bled the broth of my bastard sins.
Bad to the bone, B-B-B-B-Bad, I broke my bread with brothers working it out and sisters doing it for themselves, and some goddamnmotherfuckingsonofabitch dropping broken glass in my bubbling stew.
I scraped the bowl with the silver spoon I was never born to hold – scrapeskreeeepscreeeeeel – curled leaves of black bark and soupy patina, linseed oil and the clinging-on-to-life lifeforms of woodworm and weevils, and all the evils sprinkled from a salt and pepper pot to season the bone which was bad to the bone.
B-B-B-B-Bad, I balked at the aroma of the bad bone rising, retch-a-bone, choke-a-bone, swallowed the soup whole then stuck a skinless finger down my throat and called out for my dead mama, as the thermometer told me 40° and rising – and my skin… all bruised and blistered to the thinnest of summer coats to drape about the shoulders of the big bad bone.
I was about to become extinct; behold, the brutal boulder breaking up the sky, blotting out the sun of my life to wipe me out in the blink of an eye, and skin me to my honeycomb matrix and bared teeth.
For a long while I marinated in dreams and reflections and minor regrets… then felt myself dropped dripping wet and aromatic into the bottom of a carved wooden feeding bowl – man, you’d better believe it when I say it’s like a burning hot crater in here, and all littered with the bones of dinosaurs.
The Bad Bone Rising poem by Ford 08 July 2021
The Bad Bone Rising image – dinosaur in a shopping mall photo by Ford.