Week 719 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 Eric Martell for judging this week. Follow Siobhan Muir on Bluesky or check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads group on Discord to keep up with news, etc.
Entries:
- Bill Engleson
- Siobhan Muir
- David A. Ludwig
- Mark Ethridge
- Eric Martell
- Miranda Gammella
Mentions
Mark Ethridge
David says: Extremely relatable from the not wanting to be dependent on medication to the not functioning without it. Depression really sucks. I’m glad to have you here and that you’re doing what you need to function.
Eric Martell
David says: I love the impact you give to each sentence with the line breaks. The varied sentence lengths and general flow of the piece pulling inevitably to the prompt is powerfully executed. I’m also glad to have you part of our community.
Siobhan Muir
David says: I love your pacing and the way we sit with the alien and their thoughts before Ryshtar pulls them and us out with dialogue. The frisson of awareness, and word choice to use frisson, particularly stuck with me. After the heavy opening thoughts, ending on the lighter comment of “Oh, they’re really big” completed a satisfying emotional arc.
M.L. Gammella
David says: Wow! Powerful and topical. I love the pacing and how you pull us in before pinning us in the narrator’s situation. Your excellent attention to the senses really made me feel this one.
winner announcement
Week 719 Winner
David says: I love your private eye stories and the narrative voice that pulls me right into that noir vibe. The opening contrast between the hot smokey air and the cold tall drink hooked me right away. The father’s story and just handing over the thousand dollars and daughter’s photo particularly resonated with me. Making the prompt part of that story was a great use of it. It was a close call, but hoping the narrator finds the daughter in good condition put this one over the top for me.
Firestorm
It was a hot summer day. Late afternoon. The woods were ablaze, smoke was choking the air, and I was craving a cold tall drink, a Singapore Sling maybe, but I wasn’t fussy.
Just as I was locking up, he appeared. Fifty, manicured, a suit. It was too damn hot to be wearing one. I should know. I had one on too.
I started to shake my head, mutter something about the shop’s closed but he was quicker. “My kid, Janie, she was working at Haileys Winery. Serving, mostly. The fire ripped through there, they all ran. She called me…in a panic…Daddy…the fire…told me they’d all jumped in the owners car and then the call ended.”
I listened. Kinda figured what he wanted of me. Me. A Private Eye. Not a firefighter.
“I tell myself this is OK/okay. Christ, that she’s okay, that they made it out. The authorities are busy, too freaking busy to look for her. Here’s a thousand dollars. I have more if you need it. Find her.”
As he handed me the cash, he also thrust a photo of her into my hands.
It was nuts. I wasn’t an EMT. Nor a cop. Most certainly what I was was a middle-aged city slicker with an aversion to being immolated or choking to death in some godforsaken firestorm.
But I was also a sucker for a sob story.
At least this one.
He was playing a long shot.
Me!.
Little old me.
What could go wrong?
~~~~~~~
Congratulations FIFTY TIME WINNER Bill, and Mentions Mark, Eric, and M.L.! Don’t forget to claim your badge and display it with pride. You certainly earned it!
Pass on the great news on Facebook, Bluesky, Mastodon, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂
