Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 716. 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 Facebook.
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 716:
Computer IT master, flashfiction writer, and human, Mark Ethridge.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“We got that wrong, too.”
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!
The Case of the Artless Schlemiel
Some cases you never want to take. Usually there’s a sense, a second or third sense perhaps, that you might be in over your head.
This wasn’t one of them. If anything, I couldn’t stop laughing.
Zig Flatsky was a small-time publisher: mostly poetry chat books and How to like How to Whittle If You’re Bored To Death books. Books with limited customer demand. Or just enough to keep food on his table.
I’d met Zig a few years earlier. My landlady at the time was a poetess and Zig had agreed to publish her work and then reneged. I said I’d look into it. Once I read her poetry, I appreciated Zig’s change of heart.
“It was a mistake. I felt sorry for her…but I’m a publisher, I have to live with what I publish. She made me feel suicidal.”
I was evicted of course. Angry unpublished lady poets are a vengeful lot.
“We got that wrong, too,” Zig said the day he helped me moved. “Shoulda published the damn thing. Saved the heartache.”
“Spilt milk, Zig.”
Zig became a good friend and now he had a problem.
“Danny Trunk. Ghost writer…came to me with a fun satire…The Art of the Schlemiel.”
“And…?”
“It’s at the printer. My finest work…but Danny, he’s gotten cold feet. Afraid of repercussions…legal-type problems.”
“From?”
“Yup. Him. So find Danny, help him grow a spine.”
Another fool’s errand, I thought. Schlemiels survive because they don’t have a backbone.
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
Avery scowled. “I think you’re making a big mistake. He’s not ready for what you need him to be, and therapy or not, he’s still the asshole who ignored you all his life.”
“Okay, noted. But he’s staying. and I’m letting him, so you need to reconcile yourself to that.” Corbin paused in adding sugar to the butter. “Avery, we thought he was just an asshole and a user, but we were wrong. He’s in therapy, for goodness’ sake, and that’s a major step to becoming a better person.”
“I thought you were over him, Corbin. And I told you, I’d kick your ass if you slid back into that morose cave if you let him break your heart again.”
Corbin nodded. “I know. I am over the man he was.”
Avery dropped their chin as they crossed their arms over their chest.
“I am. Hell, I’m not the same man I was when I went down to California. I left them both behind when I came home.” Corbin frowned. “I thought he’d forgotten me and wanted nothing to do with me, that our friendship was over. But we were wrong about that, too. He’s here to make amends, and I’m willing to let him try. I can’t have you trying to undermine that. I get that you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate it. But this is my choice and my mistake to make, even if you think it’s a big one. Can you let me do that?”
250 ineligible #StainlessSteelSEALs words
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