In the absence of this week’s Big Finish Folly (which will get published tomorrow, promise!), here’s another late addition to the collection of SFF Chronicles micro-fiction challenges, some of which I pinned up back in November. This latest one was based on the chosen theme of Tudorpunk, for which I was roundly blamed, having (possibly) coined the phrase in an earlier iteration of my blog. Naturally, being responsible for the challenge, however indirectly, I was coerced by various personages on the Chronicles to submit an entry. There were many better than mine especially as, since nobody had the faintest idea what Tudorpunk actually entailed, everybody went off in their own direction. Mine was probably the most traditional-sounding of the entries. Obviously, like The King entering an Elvis Presley lookey-likey contest, I didn’t win… 🙂
We Built Our Own Worlde
“’swounds! Will you write your way from this farce?”
“Not bloody likely.” The Bard pauses, ducks another elfin volley. “I’m out of ink!”
“Verily, a poore situationne!” – Burbage, archaically. “And ’tis of your devising!”
“Burn the bloody script!” – Kydd, limping. “’sblood!”
Will laughs. “Of course! A scheme! Hasten, brothers!”
Vein opened, he scripts blood upon earth. Imagination cloaks them inside fearsome armories.
And thus armed, they charge headlong into the swords of a thousand fey!
[exit, pursued by a Bear]
(For the curious, I’ll point out that the title is corrupted from the Inception soundtrack. Tenpole Tudor provide the punk…)