Week One: Pass the Cask, Montresor

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May 29th

Vaticination. n.

1. The act of prophesying

2. A prediction; a prophecy

May 30th

Sussuration. n.

 A soft murmur; a whisper.

May 31st

Roquelaure. n.

Men's hooded cloak: a knee-length hooded cloak worn by men in Europe in the 18th and 19th centuries.

June 1st

Promiscuous. adj.

1. Sexually indiscriminate: having many indiscriminate or casual sexual relationships  

*The other day, one of my coworkers stated that her dress was "promiscuous." I attempted to correct her, reasoning that a dress cannot have multiple sexual relationships. My boss corrected me, in turn, arguing that my coworker's statement was correct. Then he looked it up...and the Internet defeated me. Let me share with you a few more definitions that may or may not surprise you:.  

2. Choosing without discriminating: choosing carelessly or without discrimination  

3. Confusedly mixed: mixed in an indiscriminate or disorderly way (formal).  

4. Occurring without any set or specific pattern or time (literary).  

June 2nd  

Suzerain. n.  

Controlling nation: a ruler or nation that controls a dependent nation's international affairs but allows it to control its internal affairs.    

June 3rd   Subsume. v.  

1. Include something: to include or incorporate something into a larger order, category, or classification  

2. Make subject to rule: to show that a rule applies to something.  

*Credit for this word goes to The Orangutan, who used it in his Sci-Fi Smackdown short "Mindscape."    

June 4th    

Clandestine. adj.  

Kept or done in secret, often to conceal an illicit or improper purpose.      

Short Story: Pass the Cask, Montresor Pt. 1

***The story's turning out longer than I expected, so I've dividing it into two parts, with this week's "short story" being part one.  It'll be complete once I've used up all the vocab words for this week, though I still need to use "vaticination" and "clandestine." Here's what I have so far; it has a nice cliffhangar, so I hope you like it:

His portrait lay above the mantelpiece – a devilish, handsome face, half wreathed in shadow, framed in black locks and a deep, wine-red roquelaire.   His shocking left eye gleamed, like torchlight in a ghostly cavern. His right hand loomed from the darkness, grasping the carved limb of his armchair.

“That’s our ancestor, Luciano Montresor,” Gaston said proudly, plopping down in a chair that appeared the descendent of the one in the picture.

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