Welcome back to the home of Paranormal & Dauntless Romance. Wow. Year 10. A whole decade. I’m astounded.
Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing, like we have for 10 whole years. It’s amazing we’ve gone this long! This is Week 525 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 525:
Scientist, Dad, and flash fiction author, Eric Martell.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
“No bones broken.”
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!
10 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 525”
Duke watched Kin and Loch carefully maneuver the makeshift sling up the rocky cliff. Tank, Dalton, and Uri handled the ropes belay. The kid kept insisting he was okay and could climb up on his own. He wanted to kick himself—again—for sending both of their medics back in the helo with all the sick, injured, and younger kids. Then again, he hadn’t anticipated the weather turning on them.
With infinite care, Maxim was lifted over the edge, followed quickly by the two Wolves scrambling up after him. Meg knelt beside the boy, her hands hovering just above him. She glanced up at Duke.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Dalton, still curling one of the ropes, appeared and squatted next to her. “Where does it hurt, Max?”
“I am fine,” the boy insisted.
“Yeah, right. And I’m Tina Karol.”
Meg stared at Dalton. “Well, your hair is the same color and you’re almost as pretty. You could be her brother maybe.”
Max grimaced but tried vainly to grin through it. “She is much nicer. She came to the hospital once. Maryska and I met her. She is my sisters favorite singer.” His eyes widened. “I have now met two big stars. Tina and Vadim.”
While Max talked, Dalton did a quick hands-on examination and pronounced, “No bones broken.” The boy started to push up, then gasped and laid back on the ground. “You have, however, probably cracked some ribs.”
Duke wondered which the hell god they’d pissed off.
250 Hard Target: Crossfire WIP words
“Right, let’s get to it.” Brandon collected his and Iliana’s plates and rose. “Give me a moment, Rory, and I’ll help you to the library or wherever you’d like to go.”
“Thank you, Master Crowe, but I’m sure I can hobble to the library on my own.” Iliana shifted in her chair as she prepared to get up.
He nodded. “I know you can, but I’d prefer there are no bones broken in the attempt, and I’d like to make sure you get there without incident.”
She wanted to ask if he also wanted to spend a little more time with her, but the rumor mill was already talking about him escorting her to breakfast. No need to add to it.
“All right. I’ll wait and finish my coffee.”
The other men nodded to her, though Jorden gave her a thoughtful look before everyone left for their respective tasks. Iliana did her best to keep her expression clear of her thoughts. She sipped her coffee as she waited for Brandon to return, feeling a little more relaxed than she had in weeks.
She glanced up to find Naomi, William, and Esteban waiting beside the table.
“Good morning. What can I do for you all?”
William cleared his throat but didn’t say anything until Naomi nudged him. “Uh, well, we wanted to be sure you were okay, and…” He blushed.
“And to let you know the rumors about you and Master Crowe have returned,” Naomi added.
247 ineligible #IvoryRoad words
The Summers End Case
It had been a swelter of a summer. The streets stank of human habitation, rodent infestation, all the sorrows that cities have become.
The countryside too, I suppose, though I hadn’t been out of the city in eons.
I knew that the rich and the mobile had fled as soon as they could. Wouldn’t expect anything less. The vacuum left was noticeable. The poor got poorer pretty damn quickly. Charities that relied on the largesse of the rich were feeling the squeeze.
Me, being in the private dick business, I was seeing my bottom-line sink as low as it’d ever been so when Benny Wakely walked in, even though I knew he was a scammer, I wasn’t about to turn him away.
Not right away, anyways.
“What’s shakin’ Benny?” I posed.
“Damn pandemic…it’s been hell. Not about what I want from you, however…got this little girl…”
“Where you goin’ with this, Benny?”
“Not where you think, Peeper. I’m outta that racket. This is Benny Good Citizen.”
I evoked a smile.
“You laugh. Anyway, an acquaintance was cruising…lookin’ for our paid pigeon…a little planned pedestrian vehicular interfaith…”
“Interface?” I suggested.
“Yeah…and this street urchin got in the way…car slammed into her. Cops pinched them both…driver and the kid…Want you to sort it.“
“Kids got a few bruises. No bones broken, thank Christmas.”
“It’ll cost ya, Benny.”
“What else is new!”
We settled on a price.
I saw it as an easy fix.
Bones looked across the devasted crowd, shaking his head in disgust.
“Those people are pathetic. Look at them! Their ‘savior’ is dead, and they fall apart.”
Jansen was more sympathetic, “They’re in shock. Their president, the woman they thought was going to change the world, was just killed. You should cut them some slack.”
Bones scoffed at his captain’s words.
“Those people are weak.”
“No Bones, broken people are not weak. They simply need to be put back together. Their brokenness will make them stronger, which is exactly what we need of them.”
Jansen motioned toward the team of people making its way through the broken crowd, consoling and speaking to each person in their path.
“Now, we take this opportunity to retrain them by turning their pain and hopelessness into focused retribution. We just have to give them the right target.”
As if on cue, the huge screen above the plaza burst into life with a photo of the vice-president and a banner below, “VP Arrested for Involvment in Assassination.”
A collective gasp filled the plaza. The counselors, prepared for the news, began soothing everyone in their vicinity, reassuring them of the capability and experience of Speaker Nielsen. No one called him President Nielsen. Not yet.
“These people are local leaders throughout the States, Bones. If the counselors convince them to accept this change without violence, we’ll have minimal issues elsewhere.”
Bones nodded his understanding; glad he was on the right side of this new world order.
The mechanoid appeared by degrees. It was a vague shadow at first, one I’d overlooked, my eyes finding nothing specific to focus on.
And then it opened his eyes.
Its eyes were featureless and red, like holes in a lantern. There was nothing to be seen in them: they were optical equipment, nothing more. There was a mind behind them, but it was purely analytical.
It had already decided what it was going to do.
“You’re awake,” it growled, already knowing it as a fact. “I prefer it when people are conscious for the whole of the proceedings.”
Its voice had enough grit to be a synthetic analogue, a close approximation of Earl Jones or Fishburne. It was a voice you couldn’t help but pay attention to.
Especially when you woke up in the middle of the night to hear it.
“You’ll know why I’m here,” it said, rising from my chair. “There’s an imbalance to be addressed. An overdue debt.”
At its full height, it was tall enough for it to have needed to stoop when it had come through the doorway into my room. But I’d not heard it coming in. It was as stealthy as it was dominant.
Not that I’d ever think of challenging it.
It clicked its fingers, and the lights came on. That’s always a neat trick if you can manage it. Getting the money from me would be more difficult.
I’d not see this night through and still have no bones broken.
250 words including title – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com
As we fought bravely on, our side was losing and, I touched my belly and regretfully told my baby that this was the end. Kyle looked at me first with surprise, then horror, waving his hands, the scenery around us swirled and faded. I found myself flying through the air followed by my husband. There were fields of blue? Skies of green and trees with purple trunks and pink leaves. Everywhere colour.
“Gods all mighty,”
“What you bitchin’ about no bones broken, Haley. We’re safe all three of us. ”
“Somehow, I didn’t expect to end where ever here is?”
“It’s the in between.”
“That a myth.”
“Does this look like your imagination?”
“Are you sure we’re not dead?”
“Our baby did not sign up for this. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t let you desert the battle and now we have.”
“We would have died and now we can rebuild, with our child. We’ll come back.”
“What if it’s a girl?”
“A once in a generation dream.”
“I you’d be happy if it was a girl?”
“May I check?”
Kyle grazed his hands over my belly then grew pale then smiled and said ,”It’s a great miracle we have saved our boy and our girl.”
We built a new kingdom in the in between deciding never to return except to choose mates for the kids. Today was that day Kyle was going and would bring back suitable ones I only hoped the kids would agree.
I hit the floor before the giant blade cleaved the space I’d just occupied, smashing the wall, the rubble of which dragged me down into the revealed chamber.
“My lord! Are you alright?!”
My chief bodyguard rushed to my side with her usual ethereal grace and quiet, despite the rough footing and her own heavy armor. I groaned from the debris pile.
“No bones broken.”
She had me unburied and on my feet before the others joined us.
“I should take point from here on.”
Her attention focused on me. I don’t think she noticed the room we were in. The rest of us noticed.
“Nonsense,” I waved off her concern. “I made a small mistake. I am still the only one who can disable the magical defenses the cult left behind. Besides, look what it revealed.”
We were between floors of the abandoned temple without so much as a window. The only access was from the breach above. My guard’s hand went to the hilt of her ancestral sword, and she trained her steely senses on the space around us.
“They didn’t wish us to find this space.”
I also analyzed the area with my magics. With extra attention for any non-magical traps. Besides our party and the rubble, the only thing in the room was a single chest.
“No, they did not.”
Only so many in the empire could have cast a lock like the one on the chest. Even fewer, including myself, could break it.
248 Cat’s The Pajamas words
“An unappreciated perk of working in a museum like this,” she said, “is being able to explore the nooks and crannies when it’s closed.”
The museum closed at five and it was after past six on a September evening and she was holding my hand and pulling. She knew the place like the back of her hand but I was utterly confused, not helped by the absence of any windows in the hallways we went down.
She tried one door. It was locked and she giggled as she moved to the next. She turned the knob and it turned and she opened the door. She put a finger to her lips. There was a window here and enough light to make out stacks of boxes on the floor.
“It’s the perfect place for a rendezvous and a liaison and doing any number of French things.” She elongated the “French” as she giggled again as she pulled me in and wrapped her arms around me and lifted her lips to mine. My hands were around her.
She stepped back but awkwardly. Suddenly she was falling backwards away from me.
“Damn,” she said, “This is for the new dinosaur display for Christmas.”
She opened the top of the box that took the brunt of her fall.
“It’s okay.” She seemed quite relieved. “No bones broken.” She dropped to the floor next to it. “Now, where were we?”
The Museum Box by Joseph P. Garland (@JPGarlandAuthor). 235 Words
Just the yolks
He looked at the table setting and then back at the name of the restaurant – and realized that Illia would never take him to a normal restaurant. No— that was out of the question, and he was either going to love it or hate it. There was no middle ground, there never was where Illia was concerned.
The Looking Glass Tea Parlor, wasn’t just a tribute to Lewis Caroll, but all his childhood favorites and they were all quite mad, but he was beginning to realize, so was he.
From the Suess chef to the Maître d’ he realized there was no place he’d rather be…
He continued to read the poem on the front of the menu and then realized, it wasn’t a poem, but a riddle. A riddle as to what the menu options were.
Chicken, No bones, broken and battered
Folded, and molded,
Grated potatoes, smashed and shattered
Tempra painted breads freshly made
Execution stayed instead.
“Chicken, no bones,” he repeated, then looked at Illia. “Eggs?”
She smiled and nodded.
“Hard-boiled eggs, battered in bacon,” she explained as she signaled their waiter.
“What about the cholesterol?” I asked.
Consider this a stay of execution.
I smiled if we all were mad, what a way to go.
211 words not including the title
#ThursThreads Week 525 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.