#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 415

Welcome back to the home of Weird, Wild, & Wicked Tales. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing. We’re almost to the end of our eighth year of weekly prompts! This is Week 415 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook 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 Twitter handle or email in the post (so we don’t have to look for you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time
  • 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 Facebook, Twitter, MeWe, and Google Plus, etc.

Our Judge for Week 415:

Louisa Star Trek

College professor, equality enthusiast, and romance author, Louisa Bacio.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram |

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“Do you want to see?”

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. Good luck!

15 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 415”

  1. The Day Davy Crockett Came to My House

    It was his spittin’ image
    That came knockin’ at my door,
    A classic frontier vision,
    The mountain man of lore.

    Strangers are not welcome,
    I sought the words to say,
    A gentle way to tell him,
    That he must be on his way.

    He stood there on my doorstep,
    Davy Crockett to a tee,
    Upon his leg my dog leapt
    And clung there to his knee.

    And then, with ancient tone,
    a toothless smile on his face,
    He asked to use my phone,
    With no irony, not a trace.

    “Sir,” I summoned some daring,
    “You seem to be out of step.
    These Covid times are wearing
    You’re a weight I cannot schlep.”

    I could tell that I’d confused him,
    A lost and lonely star,
    My words stung; I’d refused him,
    With my verbal repertoire.

    He then stepped towards me,
    Social distance tossed aside,
    And said, “Do you want to see
    How much my brains are fried?”

    With that, I grabbed my pooch
    And shut my open door
    And left him ranting on my stoop
    Shaken to his crazy core.

    And then I heard him sing,
    A song I’d never heard before,
    Though it had a familiar ring,
    Muffled some by my slammed shut wooden door.

    Born in a urban Covid factory,
    Strangest place you could ever see,
    Wore me a mask so I could be let be,
    Alive and kicking and livin’ free,
    Novel, Novel Covid, Thing of the Wild Pandemic Fear.

    250 slightly ludicrous words
    @billmelaterplea

  2. He sat his tea on the cafe’s counter and stared at his companion.
    “Do you want to see?”
    A wistful smile played on her lips. “I can hear the song of birds, but I can’t see them flying across the sky or hopping around the yard. I can smell the petunias and roses and lilacs, but I can’t see the delicate form of their petals or the shading of their flowers. I can taste the tangy citrus of an orange, but I can’t see the texture of its skin or color. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face, but I can’t see the light or watch it set.”
    “Do you miss it?”
    “I can’t imagine anyone who has lost their sight not missing it. If someone is born blind, they don’t know what they’re missing. But someone who was able to see then had it taken away; you always feel a part of you is missing. At least, I do.”
    She paused to sip her cooling cup of tea. “I’ve accepted my fate. I’ve moved on and I’m trying to make my life the best it can possibly be. But not a day goes by that I don’t wish things had turned out differently; I hadn’t crossed that street.”
    He reached out, taking her hand. “Thank you for your forgiveness.”
    She withdrew her hand. “I must be going.”
    “May I help you?”
    “No, thank you. You and you car have done enough for me already.”

    250 words – Sarah Wente – carolinacornbred@yahoo.com

  3. Young Jesse Fountain caught me outside the gambling house.

    “Do you want to see?” he said.

    “See what?”

    “The piece I bought.” he said, leading me down the alley.

    “Piece of what?”

    “The gun, Daniel. I bought a gun.” Jesse said, pulling a shiny pistol from under his coat.

    “Why?”

    “I want it for protection.”

    “Again, why? Put that away.”

    “You know…protection.”

    “Jesse, having a gun don’t mean you can use it. That thing was made for one purpose.”

    “Yeah, to show I’m not to be trifled with.”

    “No, a double-action Colt Lightning is made to kill other men.”

    “See?”

    “Shot it yet?” I asked.

    “Yesterday afternoon behind the stable.”

    “I’m sure you showed those horses who was boss.”

    “Stop, Daniel. Told you, I won’t be disrespected.”

    “Jesse, a gun doesn’t earn you any extra respect. In fact, it can get you less.”

    “Take that back, Daniel, or I’ll…”

    “You’ll what?”

    Jesse reached for his Colt, but his coat got in the way. I pulled mine and cold cocked him with the barrel. Deputy Bassett and I loaded him into the calaboose.

    “Charlie, see if you can talk some sense into Jesse before…”

    “I know.”

    A week later, Jesse tried big-footing some Texas cowboy. They say Jesse reached first, but he fumbled his draw. The cowboy didn’t.

    “Caught his hand in his coat pocket,” Charlie Bassett told me. “Looked rather respectable that way when I got there.”

    I nodded.

    “Good, that’s all he was looking for anyway.”

    250 Western Words
    @JAHesch

  4. Two women sat just around the corner from me at the bar. Both tipsy. Neither was driving. Best friends out on the town. And they had the giggles. Lord but they had the giggles. The high-pitched girly giggles that reminded me of my sister.

    I ignored them—mostly—by staring into the highball glass of amber liquid the bartender set in front of me ten minutes ago. It was half empty. Scotch. Single malt. Rich. Full-bodied. Smoky. And it burned down my throat with each sip.

    “Do you want to see?”

    I glanced up, unable to help myself. One of the women held up her hand, showing off the big diamond reflecting light. Ring finger, left hand. So a celebration, not just a night out.

    Do you want to see? My sister’s voice a whispered giggle in the dark room. I did want to see. Like Jimmy Stewart’s character in “How the West was Won,” I just had to go see the critter. It never worked out for me. I saw my father cheating on my mother. I saw my mother passed out drunk. And I saw my fiancé fucking my sister, who wore only cowboy boots and spurs. Freaking spurs! You’d think I was a cat. Stupid curiosity.

    Snatching the glass, I gulped the contents. Slapping it down, I gestured for a refill.

    “She’s done,” a voice rumbled at my back. “Come with me.”

    He was beautiful. And he smiled at me.

    “Now, baby.”

    How could I say no?
    ****
    250 random words that totally need a story now
    @SilverJames_

  5. Arkansas Smith, famed adventurer, lifted a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. “Do you want to see something outrageous?” he asked. “Something that might blow your mind?”

    Brandon nodded. He’d heard this all before. The scar he had on his cheek was proof that answering in the affirmative would quickly bring trouble into his life.

    “I’m guessing you need a second for another game of derring-do,” he suggested, knowing well that was usually the case. “A partner in crime for an enterprise that could lead us to foreign climes. I would hazard that there’s a cab waiting outside now, its driver wearing an unfashionable overcoat selected for its ability to hide an arsenal of weapons. Would that be the case, my dear friend?”

    Arkansas looked shifty. He had a range of expressions he favoured whenever his honour was in doubt. There was the defiant, devil-may-care, exultant one he assumed when he was being interrogated. That one invariably led to Brandon getting wounded, attracting a fusillade of gunshots which would have whistled within inches of his friend’s chiselled jaw. Arkansas might get beaten and bloodied, but he’d never been seriously hurt. He was the hero – there were conventions to be observed.

    Arkansas’ expression darkened. He seemed furtive, looking first to the closed door and then back at his friend. He patted his breast pocket and stood motionless, waiting.

    The doorbell rang; two long bursts announcing the caller.

    “I ordered a pizza with pineapple on it,” said Arkansas. “Can you lend me a fiver?”

    250 words ~ twothirdsrasta.blogspot.com

  6. “Sweet glory, I can’t even sit and watch the sunset without it being some part of the daily itinerary.”

    Indy shot a look back up the trail. “Do you want to see something unusual and off the itinerary?”

    Diana grinned. “Yes, please, very much. What have you got?”

    “Come with me.” She led the way past the Wrangler’s Den into the hills behind.

    She’d found this trail the first year she’d become Head Wrangler. It made for the perfect trysting and meditation spot. The trail wound through the rocks and trees until it opened into a small grotto with a pool at the base of a little waterfall. Large pale pink water lilies rested at the edge of the pool and glow trumpets grew from the vines winding around the rocks to the sides of the falls.

    Indira urged Diana to sit beside her and pointed to a broad-leafed palm just outside the splash zone. “Watch that palm. They’ll come from there.” Please, Goddess, let them show up.

    “What will?” Diana settled beside her.

    “Just watch.”

    For several minutes, nothing happened and Indira wondered if she’d just end up looking like the biggest fool, all to impress the Keeper. But the Goddess must have heard her prayers because the Whisper Cat kittens made their appearance.

    The small felines crouched cautiously below the broad leaves, their wide bright green eyes searching for danger. Then the boldest among them pounced on a sibling and both tumbled out into the light.

    248 ineligible #Rifts words
    @SiobhanMuir

  7. “I’m not gonna lie. This isn’t for everyone. In fact, I try to keep it a secret. My darkest secret. Can you imagine if this went viral? There would be lines. Hordes of people. The unwashed masses clamoring to join my procession. Let’s not mention the capitalists, the greedy sycophants, and the low-life scum whose sole purpose in life is making a quick buck. Whatever happened to hard work? Sacrifice?”

    He paused in his diatribe, pushed his face uncomfortably close to mine, and stared. But I didn’t flinch.

    “What’s in it for me?”

    “Immortality.”

    There was no hesitation. It was almost as if he expected my question. I felt myself tense as the left side of his mouth twisted into a smirk.

    “I promise, you’ll stay beautiful forever.”

    His grin disappeared, his eyes narrowed, and I swear he winked at me before he stepped to the table covered with an odd assortment of paraphernalia.

    “You assume that is important to me.”

    “Isn’t it?”

    When he turned, the lopsided sneer had returned, and an enormous glass ball glistened in his hands.

    “My dear, what you don’t understand is my visions become reality. Oh, I suppose I could dwell on the whole ‘peace on earth’ Miss America sentiment, but that would be boring. Nobody enjoys boring, do they? No. Not when the ugly truth is so much more interesting.”

    He rolled the orb, spinning and playing with it, before he lifted it, holding it at eye level.

    “Do you want to see?”

    250 Words
    @JoHawktheWriter

  8. “What do you want to see?” the withered crone breathed other worldly life into her crystal ball.

    The greasy corpulent merchant across the table scratched his prodigious stomach with both hands. He was being tested. His vast spy network was failing him. Even the crone’s magic had yet to succeed, but she knew as well as he did it was a matter of asking the right question. He hated being tested.

    “How can I draw out my rival?”

    Boney fingers teased the ether around the orb. Its dark light gave eerie life to the shadows of the dim sweltering room, though both individuals present were too accustomed to such conditions to be perturbed. At last the library and shrine from farther out on the peninsula illuminated the interior of the orb.

    “Hmmm…” the crone turned her hands to the sides of the sphere as if twisting knobs. Her smile was encouragingly cruel. “It seems she is after the dwarven Sand Scrolls.”

    “Excellent…” the merchant drummed his fingertips together as a plan began to form. “And how do I ensure she doesn’t escape this time?”

    The sinister seer teased the ether again and the image in the orb changed to a muscled man with a cocksure grin waving to a packed arena with broad hands.

    “Hold a tournament for the Scroll. Her rival will attend.”

    Man and mystic shared a relieved laugh, their minds turning to the suffering they would at last inflict on that pirate girl.

    246 Cat’s The Pajamas words
    @DavidALudwig

  9. Do you want to see?

    You will see that people judge everything by how it looks.
    You will see them define each other by their appearance.
    Overweight – he must be lazy.
    Plain – she must not care about herself.
    Scared – he is a weakling.
    She looks suspicious.
    He looks dangerous.
    They look like they cannot be trusted.

    Do you still want to see?

    You will see poverty, and you will see your brother ignore it.
    You will pain, and you will see your sister ridicule it.
    You will see hate, bigotry, and oppression
    And You will see good people stand by and do nothing about it.

    Do you really want to see?

    You will look for faith, but the world will show you religion used to justify violence.
    You will look for hope, and the world will show you shattered dreams.
    You will look for charity, and the world will show you greed and unconcern.
    You will look for love, but the world will show you porngraphy and lust.

    You say search out the heights of human creativity,
    And the world will show the depths of human depravity.

    My child, do you want to see?

    Yes Father, I want to see.

    Why my child, in the light of everything, do you want to see?

    Because if I can see fellow travelers, I will treat them with compassion.

    And seeing me, someone will be moved, and another, then another.

    The world can change, it just needs someone with vision.

    247 words
    @jsandersen76

  10. Shilah sat on the bed, watching Lorelai sway her hips side to side. Her movements thrummed through his body, cranking the anticipation of what was to come.

    “Do you want to see?” A sparkle danced in her golden eyes.

    She ran her fingers along the neckline of her blouse, teasing lower and lower, playing a slow game of peek-a-boo. A flash of tan line, a sexy lace bra edge. Entranced, he waited for more.

    No need to answer. She knew he wanted to see. If he was in Wolf form, he’d be salivating, drool running down his chin. Already, as it was, he ground his teeth, imaging slicking his tongue over her sweet bare skin. If she didn’t unveil soon, he’d rip the damn shirt off.

    “Patience. This is all new to me, too.” She turned her back to him, and lifted the material over her head.

    He drank in the sight, strong shoulders, the muscles running along her raised arms and slender waist. It must be a front-closing bra.

    Click.

    “Hell yes.” he whispered.

    She gazed over her shoulder and dropped one strap, repeating the movement on the other side.

    He held his breath, willing her to face him.

    “What the hell is going on here?” Jonah pushed through the open door. He took in the view Shilah didn’t yet see, and his mouth hung open.

    “Would you believe me,” she said, “if I said I was waiting for you to join us?”

    @LouisaBacio
    244 words
    Ineligible

  11. “Do you want to see?” my girlfriend’s son asked.
    “See what? I asked.
    “It’s a surprise,” Damon said.
    I followed him into the basement and into the dark corner. I tried to pull out my I-phone but I couldn’t find it. I was beginning to get worried I knew Damon really didn’t like me dating his mom. I tried everything to get him to like me taking him to his baseball games and encourage all his interests but so far I’d gotten the cold shoulder but I still kept trying as I was sure that I loved him as much as I loved his mom. I’d win him over yet.
    “Can we find light here?” I requested.
    “In a minute, Paul.” Damon felt in the dark and said, “Oh good, here’s the door.”
    Damon took out a skeleton key inserting into a lock. I wondered what a nine year old kid was doing in a dark locked basement room. Stepping through the doorway I felt myself lifted off the floor by hands in the dark. Damon turned on the lights. I was being held up by Teresa’s two brothers. In front of me Teresa knelt with a banner that said ‘Will you marry me?’
    I just nodded and Teresa’s brothers padded me on the back.
    Damon asked shyly, “Does that mean you’ll be my dad?”
    “If you’ll have me,” I answered.
    Damon ran into my arms followed by Teresa.
    “Come on family, let’s party,” Teresa’s brothers commented turning on music.
    250 words
    @SweetSheil

  12. Of course I’m angry that Death has taken matters into her own hands for no reason. After all, I’m not stupid, I can see what’s happening down below; I’m God. The Earth was screaming for help, but there was a better way to handle it than setting this kind of havoc in motion.

    “Explain.” I glare at Death, retired, as he wrings his bony hands.

    “In 1918, Dad realized he’d over done it a bit in the virus department. So he implanted a few suggestions here and there and soon there was a treatment. If Adrianna and I do the same, the scientists can figure this out faster. It will still run rampant but by the end of March, they can be on to something which snowballs to another and so on. It’s the best I can do under the circumstances.”
    “This could have been avoided all together had you let me continue my work. Do you want to see this much death? Don’t answer that. Climate change deniers were becoming fewer. And then you steamrolled me.”

    Horace shrugs. “I know. But humans are smarter than we realize? We have to work with this now; it can’t magically disappear.”

    I grunt, shaking my head. My temper is fizzling out and I heave a great sigh. Horace sure has a lot more faith in the human race than I do…and I’m supposed to have faith in everything.

    “Fine. Play your game. But end it soon.”

    He nods and disappears. Damn him.

    @Aightball
    250 words

  13. #ThursThreads Week 415 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.

  14. I love every piece of flash fiction Mark A. Morris writes. His entry this week made me laugh at the end. I could hear Harrison Ford saying the pizza line with that look on his face, half entreaty, half apology.

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