Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 619.
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 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 social media handle or email in the post (so we easily notify 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, Bluesky, MeWe, and Mastodon, etc.
Our Judge for Week 619:
Computer IT master, flashfiction writer, and human, Mark Ethridge.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“I’ll admit, it’s not ideal.”
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!
Droning On
“We’ve got a humdinger of a scandal on our hands now bucko because of you. What the dickens did you expect to see?”
Looking sheepish, Mac looks down at his dusty brown boots, kicks the earth, bends down, grabs a handful of soil, finds a pebble, flicks it into the air.
“Dunno,” he finally utters. “I just dunno.”
“That’s not very helpful, Mac. We brought you on board to give us best technical help available. The Jackdaw Farm team has invested…hundreds of thousands. We plan to be the very best we can be. All the training, the nurturing, lives uprooted, years of planning. And now look where we are.”
“Whaddaya want me to say?” Mac finally gets his unethical footing, his excuse-a-minute backbone. “Seemed harmless to me. It’s not like it’s never been done before. Hell, countries do it. All the time. Remember those Chinese balloons a couple of years back. That sort of set the international standard for competition, right!”
“You think because Nation States do something that gives everyone the right to spy?”
Mac picks up on my tone. He’s not as thick as his actions have indicated.
“I’ll admit, it’s not ideal. The damn Drone saw nothing. Waste of time, but everything’s on the line. The International Vegetable Faire happens only once every four years. Our rutabagas have to be the sweetest ever. I had to see what the competition was producing.”
“Gotta let you go. We’ve got to get back to our root principles.”
250 embarrassed Canadian words
@billmelaterplea
“I’ll admit, it’s not ideal.” Maura scrubbed at her forehead with the heel of hand. She was so damn tired. Her mind blanked for a moment. How long had it been since she’d slept? Far too long.
“I see no other solution.”
She studied the gray haired man on the other side of the desk. She’d heard stories about Brian “Boru” O’Hara. He was handsome in a hewned way. Usually, the word ,i>rough was used with that word. She wondered how many people knew that hewned meant rough. Her brain skipped a beat. Wow. She desperately needed a nap but these were dangerous times and she was negotiating with a dangerous opponent. Except he wasn’t exactly. Life was strange now. Allies were not to be trusted and enemies were now friends with shared goals.
“Ms. Brannigan?”
Maura glanced up. She’d drifted again. “I apologize, Mr. O’Hara.”
“For what? You’re drivin’ on fumes, girl. I’ll have a room made up for you.”
“No need for that, Brian.”
She didn’t turn around. She knew exactly who stood in the doorway. Her heart started to gallop when he stopped behind her chair. Maura almost groaned when one hands settled on her neck and his magic fingers began to knead her muscles. Her eyes drifted shut as the men’s voices floated around her.
“Take her home, boyo. We need her at full capacity when it all goes down.”
“Aye. We do. Are you sure about this?
“I am, Ronan. You know what to do.”
****
250 Moonstruck Mafia WIP words
Silver James
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSilverJames/
I remember why I never invite people to stay: it’s fine for a couple days, then it gets old. Sadly, I am the company, and it wouldn’t surprise me if my hostess is ready to have her couch back. Unfortunately, I have nowhere else to go. I’ll admit, it’s not ideal. But it’s better than nothing.
“Did you talk to your dad today?”
Carla comes downstairs in her grubby clothes: old shorts, an old tank top, and a bandana. She’s got yard work to do and I said I’d help.
“No.”
“Did you try?”
She hands me a water bottle and then grabs one for herself. Dad and I are…not getting along, let’s put it that way. Sometimes I do favors for my fanclub and sometimes that upsets him. I guess showing up to a local church and playing myself in their Sunday school play was too much.
“No.”
The sun beats down on us as Carla grabs tools from the shed. Tomato plants line the far end of her garden.
“And you’re banned from Heaven?”
Shrugging, I kneel down and start digging a hole.
“I’m pretty sure. The gate was locked when I tried to go home. And Dad never locks the gate.”
She hands me a plant and I drop it in the hole, carefully packing dirt around it.
“Ouch, dude. Well, I hope he lets you up soon.”
“Same.”
The ground trembles just a touch as I place another tomato. Definitely couch surfing for a while.
@Aightball
248 words
“I can’t believe she taught you that spell.”
Dad swept a hand back through his voluminous hair with true incredulity.
“She didn’t. I need answers I won’t get from her.”
He moved to massaging his face, like he does when he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to drive me away. Not when he thought they finally had me back.
“But… Time travel? You were pretty involved back then. What if you run into your past self?”
“I’ll admit, it’s not ideal. But I remember how things are supposed to go. I should be able to get my answers from the source without seriously damaging the timeline.”
I can feel how much this is hurting him. I’ll have a lot to make up for when this is done.
“What if something happens to you?”
“You’ll be there to help me.”
“What?”
“Did you think I hadn’t figured out that there were two of you back then?”
“This is how that happened?”
163 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
“Well,” Benjamin said, already knowing the answer. “Have you reconsidered? Or are you still fool enough to want to give it a try? I already know the marshals will enjoy picking your trampled remains from the track. Although, there’s a very good chance you’ll be driven off the road before the first bend.”
Karl shook his head and grinned. “Pitting myself and my underpowered sedan against the country’s best drivers – I’ll admit, it’s not ideal. But I’ve got a chance, whatever you think. All it will take is a bit of luck and little application. And maybe a dash of guile and cunning. I’ve been driving almost as long as all the others put together and if that doesn’t give me an edge… well, I don’t what I’ll do. But I can guarantee you it’ll be interesting.”
The Buick had definitely seen better days. Its tires were bald and there weren’t two body panels the same colour. You would have thought it would be an achievement for it to just finish, let alone anything else. Karl was going to need everything he could bring to this race. And the other drivers wouldn’t show him the slightest bit of mercy. They wouldn’t wait to try to overtake him; they’d go right over him without even slowing down.
“I’ll offer you a bet,” said Benjamin. “I’ll give you good odds – I’ll give you a thousand to one. Not that you stand any chance of ever collecting on the deal.”
248 words – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com
The gorgon’s hair stopped hissing, though the snakes kept swaying as she nodded. “Yes, possibly. Are you sure you want to help me?”
“Now that we’ve established the stories about you are mostly male-driven fear and hurt pride, absolutely. Hang tight.” Roxanne met Mahalia’s gaze. “Can you keep your mother company for a bit? Ambrose and I will find rocks to shift the tree high enough her to get out.”
“We’ll what?” Ambrose shook his head. “No, we should just leave her to her fate.”
Roxanne rose and scowled. “Fine, you go back to the fire and be safe. They aren’t going to her me. I was hoping you’d know the difference between rock wraith and normal rocks, but I’ll figure it out. Go back and hang with Corlith. I’m sure he’s trembling in his goblin boots.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Shh, keep your voice down. The last thing we need is to wake the damn rock wraith.” She held out the torch. “If you’re not going to help, at least hold the torch so I can see what I’m doing.”
Ambrose grumbled but he took the torch and followed dutifully behind her.
“This is ridiculous. We could be eating supper.”
Roxanne snorted. “I’ll admit, it’s not ideal, but the sooner we help her out from under the trees, the sooner we can eat.” She reached for a rock sitting to the side, but he grasped her shoulder.
“Not that one. That’s a scale knocked off the rock wraith.”
249 ineligible #Sirens words
@siobhanmuir.bsky.social
#ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.