Week 706 of #ThursThreads was a success, a remarkable feat for 13 solid years. Thank you to everyone who writes each week. You are why we’re still doing this. I’m truly grateful for all y’all!
If you’ve just found us, welcome to the crew! May you come back again and write more great flash. A thousand thanks to David A. Ludwig for judging this week. Follow Siobhan Muir on Bluesky or check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction server on Discord or the #ThursThreads Group on Facebook to keep up with news, etc.
Entries:
- Bill Engleson
- Silver James
- Siobhan Muir
- Sheilagh Lee
- David A. Ludwig
- Mark Ethridge
- Miranda Gammella
- Eric Martell
David says: This prompt got a lot of compellingly poignant reflections. I went back and forth a lot on both the winner and honorable mention, but settled on:
Honorable Mention
Silver James | Website
David says: I love the chemistry between these characters and the quiet introspection of Carla just being with Aisling. Bonus points for Carla being a witch.
winner announcement
Week 706 Winner
David says: I love how immediately and thoroughly the opening sentence drops us into the noir vibe of the story. The narrator’s voice is excellently strong throughout. And I love the twist of who was missing. In a strong week, I ultimately decided this is the one where all the pieces came together best.
A Character Flaw
I was closing up shop when he whipped open my waiting room door and stood there, neon from the hallway blaring in behind him casting his tall thin ominous shadow into my face.
“Thank God,” he whimpered, “ You’re still here. You gotta help me find him.”
It was late and I was wankered. I’d spent the past twelve hours bird-dogging a known dognapper, Missy Pickering, seeing if she’d lead me to her kennel hideout.
The rub was, I recognized him, my emaciated interloper. Mac Holbrooke, old school mystery author. He wasn’t half bad. So, though my eyelids were weighing heavy, I thought, what’s the harm.
“Sit down, Holbrooke. Who’s missing?”
He plopped down on my waiting room sofa, caught his breath, said, “I thought he was still with me. Wish he was still here where he belongs. By my side. We’ve been together almost forty years.”
It was sounding like his boyfriend had finally gotten wise. Love sucks when you get old and tired. But he was here with his twisted hanky.
“So who is he and are you sure you want to find him?”
He gave me a look like I was the last fool in the world. “He’s…all I’ve got. You must know him. He’s like my brother. Donnie The Bruiser Trumper…that’s who he is…”
That knocked me back on my buttered flanks.
Donnie Trumper was his hard-ass detective creation.
Holbrooke had finally snapped. A case of Fictional Personality Phenomenon.
Too sad for words.
~~~~~~~
Congratulations FORTY-SIX TIME WINNER Bill, and Honorable Mention Silver! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
Pass on the great news on Facebook, Discord, MeWe, Bluesky, Mastodon, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂
