Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 692. Year Lucky 13! The last year of the cycle, the Moon Year. To those who keep coming back, I’m delighted to see you again!
Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing on #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Discord and the Group on MeWe.
Need the rules? Read on.
Here’s how it works:
- The prompt is a line from the previous week’s winning tale.
- The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
- The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed.
Rules to the Game:
- This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
- The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added.
- Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
- Post your story in the comments section of this post
- Include your word count in the post (or be excluded from judging)
- Include your social media handle or email in the post (so we easily notify you)
- The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time US.
- The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.
How it benefits you:
- You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we’re all about promotion – you know you are!)
- You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
- Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Bluesky, MeWe, Discord, and Mastodon, etc.
Our Judge for Week 692:
Most Consistent #TT Winner, Newfie mom, and Romance Author, Silver James.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“He hated these games.”
All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Comments do not represent the views of the host and the host reserves the right to remove any content. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads in the Moon Year. Good luck!
A Night Out
I hadn’t seem Philby in a month of Sundays. Life at the Philby ranchero had gone south during Covid. So many others too, I suppose.
Maggie Philby had begun to loose her marbles. I’d run into Philby on the street near the end of the lockdown. We’d bumped elbows, talked about how we’d coped and he’d mentioned that Maggie was no longer herself.
I asked how and he’d started to weep, said he wasn’t really sure, it was just that she didn’t have much to say anymore.
The Maggie I remembered had always been the whirlwind in that twosome. Wittier than a stand-up comic…not that all of them are that quick. Still, Maggie always had something smart to say.
Anyway, Philby and I didn’t talk after that street encounter until one night three months ago when he showed up at the Leaky Tapestry, out local pub and art gallery.
He sat down at our table. Mickey and Sal were also there. We ordered a fresh round and then I asked how life was, meaning, and he knew it, how Maggie was.
He shook his head said, that he hated these games, not so much what we were asking but how slow it all was, talking to her, reassuring her, loving her, holding her, knowing she didn’t know him anymore, that he held all the cards but that the game was over for them.
He couldn’t care for her anymore.
An institution awaited.
I sensed he would intervene.
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social