Friday Phrases!

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Tag: #S4S (page 1 of 7)

Tale of the Silver Tongue by @NerdCactus



You think you know the story. In fact, it is one you think you know well. But of course, you are unpardonably wrong. You wouldn’t know the truth if it came up and smacked you in the face with a hammer. Hah! My apologies, I could not help it. My kind are so fond of weapons, I simply had to make the joke. At least one of them would hit you in the face with a hammer and call it fun.

Who am I? Well, I am called Loki. Yes, I am he. Not the one in green-and-antennae chic, but the real deal; the mischief-maker, the lie smith, the smoke rising from the flames of Asgard. Bane to the Aesir, the Vanir, and all the Nine Realms. He whose eternal imprisonment will be over only at the end of all things, with the Ragnarök that will kill us all.

Well, not all of us. Baldur, of course, will live and he will lead the survivors to a new life beneath the branches of the World Tree, the Yggdrasil. The rest of us will be dead and gone, but he will go on living.

And therein lies the injustice of it all. For, you see, my imprisonment is for the crime of his murder. All my torment because of a death that is no death at all, just a brief sojourn into the realm of Hel. A much-needed lesson in humility for he who will be reborn to lead the new age. Oh yes! Did I forget to mention? He must be reborn, for it is written, and how can a person be reborn if he has not first died?

I get ahead of myself. It is nothing new for me, whose essence is the formless and the ever-changing. I am there in the candle and the forest fire, the life-giving flicker and the all-consuming inferno. It is not in me to be constant any more than the dancing flame, which is never still and always varying. I do not lie because I seek to obfuscate the truth, but because I cannot always be truthful. I do not cause mischief because I seek pain in others, but because I cannot always be kind. I am chaos, bound to be everything and nothing all at once, and at the whim of my own existence. This makes it difficult to be concise, because I cannot always tell what needs to be told.

I will begin, so far I as can see, at the beginning.

I am not a god. I was born to giants and adopted by the Aesir into their ranks for services rendered. Oh yes, I was once called blood brother by the Allfather himself, who swore never to raise a glass but that I had one, too. This was after I aided them, of course; Odin would not have allowed one such as me among his brethren if I had not proved useful. There is no beneficence in him; he is a hard god. What else could one expect from one called Terrible, the Stormbringer, Killer, and God of Treachery? What else from he whose horse is the gallows and whose spear chooses who will die? You think because he is wise that he must be kind and in this you are wrong. Odin knows no kindness. And yet it is I who is so oft maligned.

I saved the Aesir the cost of building Asgard’s mighty walls. I tricked the horse Svadilfari into following me and so saved Freyja from marriage to a giant; so I saved the sun and the moon, also, for those had been part of the price. And I gave my son to Odin for his mount; a son I bore, for I was a mare at the time of his conception. From this day I was called Sly One, and Odin was pleased with me. I was admired for my tongue and for my tricks.

Then was Mjolnir—the mighty hammer of Thor—stolen from his bedroom. Not by I, of course, for I would not be so foolish and nor had I a yen for such brutishness. But I was accused; even when I had their admiration, I never had their trust. Once again, the price was Freyja; once again I saved her from that price, this time by dressing Thor in the wedding dress intended for his sister. I tricked those who had stolen it and thus was Thor reunited with his weapon. Thus was I named blood brother; not an Aesir and yet of them.

If there is something you must know about me, it is that I am accorded a coward. Among the denizens of Asgard, subtlety and thought are as one with pusillanimity. Only Odin understood my intricate workings, for he is master of the raven Thought and his eye sees all. I was maligned, mistrusted, feared. But I knew something they did not: Ragnarök would make equals of us all. Even Odin—great Odin—would die, and no amount of battle courage would save them.

They feared the Ragnarök, of course, though they missed the hypocrisy in feeling it. None of them wanted to die; in that, they were not alone. Only Baldur—and remember that it was he who would survive the battle and journey forth into a new world—felt no such fear. It was arrogance instead which blossomed within him; an arrogance which would make him a poor leader, and unworthy of his great role. Beneath him, Midgard would suffer and Asgard remain in ruins. I could not have that.

Oh! I see that has shocked you out of your temerity. You scoff to learn I cared aught for humanity. But of course I did; of all of them, I cared the most. I did not demand their dead or sink their ships; I did not promise protection and laugh as they screamed for help. I was not the Queen of vanity to demand love, or the Watcher to spy upon them. Sif, I suppose, cared; she gave them grain, after all, and hence life, but never once did she stand up for them. When Thor thundered, she laughed along with the rest at his blood sport. I might have been feared, but I was also respected; I was fire, weapon and life, whose danger was understood because I did not hide it.

I am silver tongue, I am liar and trickster, I am Sly One and bane, but I am always honest with my danger. I do not promise comfort and deliver pain. If I hurt, it is because it is in my nature to do so, and thus it has ever been so.

The others obfuscate and pretend. I am simply wild.

But my imprisonment. Baldur, as I have said, will survive the Ragnarök. But in order to do this, he must be reborn. He cannot die at the end times because he is already dead at their genesis. Unfortunately, none of my brethren seemed to realize this. Or perhaps they did and actively sought to stave off its coming, but Odin would not be so stupid; he knew Ragnarök would come anyway, whether or not Baldur was dead. I would like to think it was love for his favorite son which drove him to such deeds, but then I would be lying to myself. And I do not do that.

Baldur was special. Everyone knew that. His mother even collected promises from every living thing that they would do him no harm. Everything except mistletoe, which was deemed too young to make such an oath. Even Frigg, it seemed, was not immune from arrogance. Even gods can succumb to hubris.

When I learned of this, I was mortified. I am bound to my nature; I live by it, love by it, breathe by it. To so flout the will of the Norns—of destiny—was anathema to my very being. I could feel the wrongness of it in every flicker of every flame of all the realms. And so I set out to make it right. I set out to end the arrogance of the gods.

We knew from dreams—and dreams are prophetic—that Hod would slay his brother. Hod, the god of ice and darkness, blind and trusting; he would no more have killed bright Baldur than Odin would kill himself. And so I tricked him. I have him an arrow of mistletoe and challenged him to hit his brother with it. We all thought it would be a laugh; everyone was taking turns swinging all manner of weapon at Baldur’s head, guffawing when it went aside. But I knew of Frigg’s oversight; I knew the arrow would sing true.

And so was Baldur killed. So was nature made right. So was I damned, for I had all but assured Ragnarök. Which, of course, was assured anyway.

They tried to bring him back, you know. Even then, they sought to defy themselves and fate, to undermine what was at the heart of everything. To bring an end to death and an end to ends. I could not abide this. Perhaps I am bound more to the nature of things, to its cycles and dualities, perhaps I hated the hypocrisy. Perhaps I was simply tired of their mistrust and wished to see them punished. It could be any or all of those things; with me, it could be none at all. I am not always sure even of my own thoughts. It is a burden, trust me.

They went to Hel to get him back. Hel, my daughter, Queen of Niflheim because she must be put somewhere and she could not stay in Asgard; she was too ugly, too grotesque to their eyes. I think her beautiful because she is exactly as she should be. But then, I am a partial father. And she was kind; she promised Baldur’s life in return for sorrow. Should every living thing weep for him, he would return.

But everything did not weep. Like the fire and the smoke, I am shapeless and shifting. I can be what I want; I can be what you want, too. I changed myself into an old crone and refused to weep. Thus was Baldur kept in Hel. Thus was everything made right.

I was caught, of course. For as I can be anything, Odin can see anything. One of my sons was killed—innocent, he was, of everything but being mine, which should tell you what sort of monsters the Aesir really are—and his entrails used to bind me to a rock. A snake was placed above me—a bit of showmanship, that, which even I must admire, for the snake is my animal—which dripped acid upon my face. I was allowed one kindness: Sigyn, my wife, could collect the acid in a bowl and keep it off of me. A small kindness, for it is a small bowl and must be emptied often. And so here I lie, bound until the end of time, when I shall escape and Ragnarök will begin.

Oh yes. I see you grasp my meaning. Even now, chained and writhing, I am true. Even now, I play my part. For I must escape if Ragnarök is to begin. Baldur must be dead and I must escape my shackles. I ensured the first, but it was the gods themselves who have made sure of the second.

I am Loki, god of lies and mischief, born of the smoke and flames. I am called Trickster and Sly One. I am called murderer and Blood Brother. I am no Aesir, but I belong to them. And I will always be true.

I will always be true.


Picture: Wikimedia – The Punishment of Loki by Louis Huard (Public Domain)

S4S: Glorious Goldies by @bobbibowwoman


“Interview with the Author of Goldfish Diaries”


Bobbi Bowman here, sitting down with the author of Goldfish Diaries.  Well, I’m sitting and our lovely guest is in her tank.  Many have been curious about her tweets.

Bobbi:  What inspired you to tweet?

Goldfish: I wasn’t tweeting at all. I was journaling.

B: Then how did you come to be on twitter?

G: A friend encouraged me to share my musings with a twitter community #FP (Friday Phrases).  These lovely writers and word lovers come together every Friday to share stories.

B: But, and I don’t mean to be rude, you’re a fish.  How do you post?

G:  It’s not magic or anything.  I simply hand over my diary weekly and my friend tweets it (with the hash tag #FP, of course).

B: I understand there have been changes in your life over the last year.

G: Sadly, two roommates left.  I have no idea where they are at present.


Home after cleaning day.  Quick loop, then slower.



Alone again.

Tears don’t show under water

B: I am sorry for your loss.  You are presently not alone, am I right?

G:  I have a friend, Snail.  We didn’t hit it off right away, both being snooty with our species prejudices.


Maybe following the snail/butler to point out places it missed on the glass was not the best way to introduce myself.

G: We can laugh about it now.  It’s great to have a best friend.

B: What are your hopes for the future?

G: A mate.  Oh dear, I said that too quickly.  I should have said something more profound like world peace.  Snail says that without a mate, I can work at being the best goldfish I can be.  That’s what I’m doing.

B: Thanks for talking with me today.

G: My pleasure.  By the way, if anyone is interested in seeing all my tweets in order along with drawings can visit the blog:

As I mentioned before, Snail and I got off to a rocky start in the tank.  We both had a lot of learning to do. Below is a short on how it all began:


I was feeling lucky, believing today a new roomie would break this loneliness.

It came.

Too horrible to speak

A snail.


A snail!  Unbearable.  I now share the bowl with slime.

Good butlers, okay.  But I want a friend…dare say, a mate.


The butler/snail will not approach me. Fish always make the first move.

Oh, this is unbearable.

Does it even speak?


One stupid butler/snail and no weekly cleanings.

They don’t care that my gills ache pushing thin air and grime.


The snail/butler said it waited to test the complexity of MY language before responding.

Unthinkable. MY language.


Unthinkable—I’m trapped here with the only snail that thinks it’s better than a fish.

Unless they all do.



Pictures, interview, and #FPs by @bobbibowwoman

The Very Best of WHEN GOOD GOES BAD – part 2




Are you relaxing? ARE YOU?
If you are not, I hereby declare it an emergency that you have a cup of coffee, tea, chocolate, wine of you wish, (it’s never too early, don’t let that lie stop you! ;)) and relax. It’s Friday. It’s necessary.
Anyhoo, while I inflict my weirdness on something else, please, you just plonk yourself down and enjoy! Enjoy the Very Best Of When Good Goes Bad part 2



Annie ‏@anniescribes 

warm fuzzy feelings

wrapped around her as she

admired twinkles in his eyes

just before he burst her bubbles

and she woke from her dream



Bonita Lynn ‏@irvin_bonnie 

When good goes bad

As it often will

When you wanted sweet

But instead you got dill

Say “This too shall pass”

Have a drink and chill



Elle Karma ‏@ellekarmawrites 

This had been the perfect job. Then came Mr. Bright and his unusual demands. #FP


NERDY GEEK ‏@eobonare 

” when good goes bad”…. hold up ! What is good and what is bad ? My good may as well be your bad. Right? #FP


Christopher Slagle ‏@christopheresl2 

She was a corporate lawyer, I was a medical resident. Schedules didn’t match up. We hardly saw each other. Just drifted apart. #fictfri #fp


kendalljaye ⚾️collard ‏@KJCollard 

The deed done. I knew my obit would talk of goodness. The blood on the sink, hypotonic. Mine or his? I was done with bad. The razor bit. #FP


Mark Farley ‏@mumbletoes 

The queen summoned her knights but the battle was already lost. In the end, she saw her husband fall. Checkmate.

#fp #fictfri #FriDare


Megan Cutler ‏@Megan__Cutler 

They raised her in glory until her sixteenth birthday. Then not one of them spoke of her innocence, though many knew it was truth. #FP


Megan Cutler ‏@Megan__Cutler 

Do you know what you are? /A slave/ Do you know what you could be? /A liberator/ Do you know what I am? /Power/ Embrace me. Unleash me. #FP


Christopher Slagle ‏@christopheresl2 

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not the same person I kissed that night. I wonder how much of him is left in you.” #FP


Eda Vor ‏@EdaJVor 

If fun is sun & swimming & Kahlua by firelight, my parents were in paradise. But for an unintentional teen pseudo-goth, it was torture. #fp


Joshua Haveman ‏@JDHaveman 

Everybody knows that one bad apple can spoil the bunch. But God have mercy on you when the whole bunch goes from good to bad at once. #FP


nikki sumrow ‏@pnswrites 

In his final act of duty as my father, he kissed my forehead and told me to be a good girl. Then he left, taking my childhood with him. #FP


John Ciappetta ‏@runecaster_ 

“Ghost”: Am I the one who can’t be seen? My soul is helmed, my shield-wall surrounds me. But you, winged one, can see me from on high. #FP


Thē Bret M.W.  ‏@Bretttmw_Words 

with entropy and inevitability

good will always comes undone

when we’re laxidazical, apathetical

bad will hurtles us to the sun



seafordmath ‏@don_lorah 

At long last he had found her. His magic woman. The one who cast a spell on his heart so long ago.

“Meet my husband.” She said. #FP


seafordmath ‏@don_lorah 

We found paradise on a whim. We should have been blown off course but the Promised Land was before us. Burnt to the ground, no life left. #FP


seafordmath ‏@don_lorah 

He held her for the first time as a reciprocal lover. Small words of comfort dripping from each other’s lips. She died before I love You #FP


Nate Ragolia ‏@NateRagolia 

For a while, everything was free, at their fingertips from the Screens. They laughed and reveled. Then, the Screens asked for payment. #FP


Nate Ragolia ‏@NateRagolia 

We forgot we were animals. We forgot that in Nature there is no Good or Bad. Apples became cider. Shit was fertilizer. We were janitors. #FP


Nate Ragolia ‏@NateRagolia 

The red lipstick is a mask. It’s a bold highlighter. An underline. Wearing it, she could do anything. And right now, she knows she will. #FP


EJ Fisch ‏@EJFisch 

“I’m not disagreeing with you, but anything could have happened. We can’t know for sure where her allegiances lie now.” #FP


Meg Frye ‏@Meg_Frye 

a red room with a stack of board games,

snapshots taped to the wall, and a window

his reflection in the window, without me

#fridare #fp


Nano Horror ‏@tweetsthecreeps 

Yes, it was self-defense. But now I am eager to re-experience the same feeling of power. This time it will be on my own terms. #FP


Daniela Wnuk ‏@danielawnuk 

We were sitting on the cold beach when we realized the silence was screaming loud.

“Why did the whales stop singing, darling?” #FP


Brent C ‏@crowguye 

He remembers, with starry eyes and still bittersweet smiles, but wouldn’t go back, the memory, he knows, is better than the reality was.



R D Ansong ‏@RDAnsong 

He doesn’t look up at night, for the stars remind him of her eyes. Now all he has are memories of her, and the hope of an early death. #FP


TR ‏@_The_Mad_Monk 

She swayed in time with the music. Closed her eyes, leaned into him. As the song wound down his eyes scanned the room for another. #fp


Thomas Creamer ‏@TheTCreamer 

Artists who die without acclaim seem to have a better prognosis than those who live with ridiculous fame #fp


Christine Sutton ‏@Battwings95 

23 & engaged, a psychic said my life struggles would be health, money, & love. I demanded a refund. I’m 50 now & amazed by her gift.



Phoebe L. ‏@Phoebe_LShade 

Nothing lasts forever. Not the winter. Not our youth. Not us & not the happiness we took for granted. In time, not this pain too. #FriDare #FP


Elyse Salpeter ‏@elysesalpeter 

My ma disowned my bro when he went to jail. She’d say, “He had such promise as a kid but when Good goes Bad there’s nuttin you can do.” #FP


Joshua Haveman ‏@JDHaveman 

I had watched the descent. A slow turn from peace to puerile hatred. Angel became demon. Life became death. Hope was abandoned. #FP #FictFri


February Grace ‏@FebruaryGrace 

There is no greater danger than the darkness of a heart once pure… #FP


TR ‏@_The_Mad_Monk 

Scalpel. Suction. Ah, there you are. Got it. Mr Jones, you are a lucky man. Nurse, sutures pl- wait. There’s more. No, something…else. #fp


TR ‏@_The_Mad_Monk 

What the –

The doctor stumbled back, dropped the scalpel. Moist, pulsing eyes glinting, the spider climbed out of the man’s chest.



Shannon Reber ‏@ShannonArtWrite 

There is good in the world. I know it. It’s hidden from me though. All I see is the bad, the waste and the death. I am the end of joy. #FP


Shannon Reber ‏@ShannonArtWrite 

I was good until the moment I met you. You tainted my soul, changed me from angel to demon. The good went bad and the world suffers. #FP


Shannon Reber ‏@ShannonArtWrite 

He was a good dog, until we died. Now, I spend my time keeping him from tearing the limbs from any who find our final resting place. #FP


Shannon Reber ‏@ShannonArtWrite 

I am a good person, until she takes the last cup of coffee. When good goes bad, collateral damage is high. Our office will be destroyed. #FP


PlatinumRoseLady ‏@PlatinumRoseL 

Marta gaped at the figure in the mirror, a brassy, bold seductress. The woman in the glass smirked back.

“You’re me?”

“I could be.”



Phoenix Grey ‏@phoenixgrey85 

Her heart was good, until They touched it, blackened it with their lies. Now the poison spreads, infecting all those she sees. They win. #FP


jfx mcloughlin ‏@jfxmcl 

Was she blushing? No, it’s just the afterglow of another microdermabrasion treatment … #FictFri #FP


Kevin S. Julien ‏@JSHyena 

“You say I changed,” he wept as she turned away. “But love changes people. You changed me. If anyone is to blame for this, it’s you.” #FP


Georgia Bell ‏@gabellbooks 

The waiting, the wanting. It felt good at first. She felt alive. Soon enough it burned a hole inside her. She felt hollow. Empty. #FP


Just-A-Nerdy-Girl ‏@justanerdygirl1 

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead!”

“Yeah, thanks for ruining that for me.”

#FP #FridayPhrases #FictFri #amwriting #write #scifi #wip


Paul Burvid ‏@PaulBurvid 

Our hero stands with the enemy. Can he, virtue personified, be taken by darkness? I say not, so seek instead the falsehood in ourselves.



Sarah Brentyn ‏@SarahBrentyn 

Trust is so easily broken, yet impossible to mend. Like an antique teacup, gently bumped, completely shattered.



jfx mcloughlin ‏@jfxmcl 

Even though we knew it was over we gave it one more try, we had to, there was a child involved and some very valuable assets. #FP #vss


Karen ‏@KarenOhren 

When good

goes bad

the stars cascade

dark fire

from a crimson moon

the night sky


for innocence

a pure light

lost too soon.



Karen ‏@KarenOhren 

When good

goes bad

the smooth

ripe surface


with dark desire

one kiss

and truth

comes seeping

a taint of

sweet decay.



God is Tricksy ‏@AdrianYoung10 



“Where have all the good times gone?”

“Shiraz and peyote Bandito”

“But those ARE the good times”





Thomas Creamer ‏@TheTCreamer 

“These humans will ignore reality for the sake of furthering a philosophical belief, allowing it to override their instinct to survive” #FP


Cyril Bunt ‏@Cyril_Bunt 

#FP after a very long and draining day, I have nothing better to do then to have a read through the ‘soul selection’ of a catalogue of food!


Ayten Suvak ‏@SuAy30 

In quiet empty streets

When good goes bad

Some shadows race the night

Slowly at first then fast

Until a terrible sound

Pierces the air



Trace Kerr ‏@teakerr 

An angel held the toddler’s iridescent soul in its hands. “Hate me, curse me…but someday, I promise, you will thank me.”



Out of the Blue ‏@BlueHaiku2 

Remember when all the world

was starry and blue

only the two of you

a universe unto itself

then came those gamma-rays.

#FP #5lines


George ‏@BklynMercado 


she weeps

when good goes bad

& he becomes

Mr. Hyde yet again

& then only good

left in her heart

was a silent goodbye


Roger__Jackson ‏@jabe842 

The moon scattered silver upon the folds of Scottish mountains, and when the moment was perfect, he asked her if she liked Star Wars.



Lotta Craft ‏@lottacraft 

Vrug held the textbook. “To clear bad blood, drain and replace with Cadmium… and the other way around?” “Needs testing,” said Bruf #FP


Parry ‏@ParawlPerwyl 

My ears are bleeding from your backhanded words. Don’t show me picture proof of your transient emotion. #FP


nina ‏@SkyeTrilogy 

I watched him disappear. The man I had made in my mind, crack and peel – a Rembrandt on fire. He was nothing… cheap paint and paper.



TR ‏@_The_Mad_Monk 

Withered grapes, twisted vines. Fields of dust. Bacchus walked through the maze of bodies. He picked up the last bottle and went home. #fp


Christine Sutton ‏@Battwings95 

She carried dolls will crystal faces, etched in forbidden blood, their small cylindrical hearts beat to a child’s rhythm of shame



Dante & The Lobster ‏@Marcgalez 

Velvet pastries with a sweet pungency permeated Mr Pringles cafe. In the kitchen he hacked away. (the dull conspiracy of meat pies.)



Kirsty Ferguson ‏@danesha24 

He slipped his hands around her neck and squeezed. A perfect example of when good goes bad #fp


JS Rowan ‏@JFBattleBridge 


The captain of the great land ship had to let the customs agents inspect and seize the stained crate. How it stank!



Invent Anything ‏@inventanything 

There is nothing to fear but fear itself …

And Spiders …

Ok let’s include snakes …

How about centipedes …

Ok there is a lot to fear.



Z ‏@Zedzeddicus 

She hummed whimsical,

Lost in a glow of virtual fancy,

Unaware of shifting worlds.

She hummed,

Trapped in a world of fancy.



Susan ‏@SusanJoy10 

He found his birth mother. Finally. But happiness turned to heartbreak, she was dying of cancer. #fp


Casey Donart ‏@casey_donart 

She was a ‘good girl’, the kind who did the right thing and never made


Until she met Sarah, and her life began spiraling #FP


Casey Donart ‏@casey_donart 

Even the purest of souls can be attracted to darkness. #FP


Christopher Mentzer ‏@Chris_Mentzer 

“I’ve had enough of this! It’s time I did things my own way.” He exchanged a white cowboy hat for black and drew his six shooters. #fp


Kristen ‏@TheHemicane 

Your empty stare rips through me, drilling a hole to where my heart once was.



Georgia Bell ‏@gabellbooks 

It wouldn’t be over until she’d taken every bit that was good between them and twisted it into pain. Then she’d be able to walk away. #FP


NERDY GEEK ‏@eobonare 

Loud obscene music screamed from the speakers, the tattered small room dirty and airless. My confused thoughts loud in my head…#FP


Picture: Pixabay – CCO (Public Domain)

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