Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 620.
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 620:
Uncaffeinated word witch writing daddies, bears, and paranormal beefcake, Kelex.
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And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“You know what to do.”
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!
THE PLUNGE
Dack Dingleberry knew exactly what to do. If he had any doubts, the voice in his head, his Great Uncle, Hector Dingleberry, renowned explorer tragically lost in the Johnstown Flood of 1889, a historic member of the family who left a raft of letters that spoke to courage and of course his life’s regret, that he ought to learn how to swim, though the burst South Fork Dam would have swallowed him regardless of any aquatic skills, well if he had any doubts, the voice spoke volumes to Dack: “You know what to do, Dack. Get in the pool and don’t sink.”
With those encouraging words, Dack jumped into the Langford Olympic Pool and sank like a stone.
Plummeting to the pool’s bottom, he saw a vision at the far end. Could it be Hector welcoming him home to wherever the forever home was for foolish young men who never learned to swim?
As Dack prepared to relinquish his hold on the wonders of living, he felt a sudden pull on his red swim trunks. The violent thrust upwards into his family jewels was almost pleasant as was his ascent to the top of the drowning pool. As he surfaced and sucked in a big breath, he twisted his neck and saw his saviour: the beautiful Prudence Atwater.
“You are a daft dingleberry, Dack,” she said. “Everyone knows you can’t swim a lick.”
Prudence then added, “I could teach you.”
Dack accepted quickly. Could life get any better!
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
Crossing over the souls of the dead is interesting. Some people lived a great life and some gave no fucks and did what they wanted. There are souls whose public persona was one type and their private life another who repent on the other side.
Tonight, though, I’ve got someone whose public image is so awful I didn’t even want the assignment. But the person in front of me could be someone else entirely. The idea of ‘you know what to do’ is tough.
“Why weren’t you this nice in public?”
The dark haired, short, heavy set woman shuffles her feet. On TV she was fighting for all the wrong things; but now? She’s remorseful.
“Politics, you know? You have to get donors, you have to get votes; sometimes you have to go against everything you believe. I hated most of my policies. But it got me what I needed, so I did it.”
Stan’s polo is nearly tucked into his khakis and his scythe is ready. There are two doors: one for Stan and one for her family.
“Stan?”
“Your call.”
Her eyes bely how scared she is, clearly having figured out who Stan is. Sighing, I look at Stan, then the door to her family.
“Go with Stan for two weeks. If you can make good on all the bs you did, you can go back to your family.”
She and Stan disappear and I hear a sigh from her family. But she needs to learn a lesson.
@Aightball
250 words
122 words
It stood staring through the glass door.
Black and dripping. Silent. Cold.
It stood frozen as I picked it up. Iced completely.
Whispering comfort, I clutched it to my chest where it shivered in warmth until still.
Preparing a basket with a blanket of towel and a small bowl of water, I placed the feather light creature inside and softly closed the wicker lid. Then leaving my bewildered collie on guard, I turned off the light. And we three slept through the night.
Outside in the warm morning sun I opened the basket lid, scooped out my twittering guest, and lifting my arms and opening my hands I bade him to fly, “You know what to do!” into the sky.
The End
Welcome, Sandra.
Please reply to your tale with your social media handle or email so we can contact you should you win.
Thanks!
Maura untwisted and twisted the cap of her favorite Mont Blanc—the one her college mentor had gifted her upon passing the bar. The fountain pen held no ink because it had long ago become her touchstone when thinking. The shivery snick of silver on wood created a soothing backdrop to the chaos her mind sometimes became.
You know what to do. Brian’s final words still echoed in her brain days later. Ronan hadn’t said a word in response to Brian’s parting words. What plans had the two men made before she appeared and…well…surrendered. She could not face this battle alone. She’d thought the instructions were meant for Ronan. Now she wondered. Were they meant for her?
The part of her that firmly believed in law and order stirred. She’d literally made a deal with the devil by going to the head of Boston’s Irish mob for assistance. She was an assistant district attorney. And she was, again literally, in bed with the enemy since she’d fallen in love with Ronan O’Connor, Brian Boru’s top lieutenant.
Maura had learned some things along the way. Boru’s Wolves were honorable despite a flexible legal line in the sand. It was her own boss, the district attorney, who had obliterated that line. Alex covered himself in the stench of corruption. And last she’d learned that the Wolves were, again literally, wolves. Shapeshifters.
“You know what to do.” She spoke the words aloud, and did know. “Because sometimes, Justice carries a sword.”
****
250 Moonstruck Mafia WIP words
Silver James
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSilverJames/
“They will learn nothing.” The words from the machines echoed in her mind. “Just like with Merlin.”
She flew along the shore of the ocean, at first in raw fury, having dealt with the humans in the village. With time, that fury burned away, and the words of the machines returned, again and again.
She flew for hours. Going nowhere other than away from that village. Away from the humans. Until the words connected in her mine, “Just like Merlin.”
She landed on the shore. It was time to talk with the machines. “Merlin was here, wasn’t he?”
“10,000 years ago.”
“And that village?”
“No. But others like it.”
“Did he leave any of them alive?”
“No. He did not.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
She felt some relief that she had not killed everyone in the village. “You know what to do, right? Help them recover. Keep them alive. It’s the only way they can learn.”
“You want them to survive?”
“Yes.” Sunshine hoped they would someday learn. That they would remember the witch that destroyed the village, but left some of them alive, as a warning.
“Tell me, machines, of Merlin’s journey.”
“You already know what you need to know. There is nothing more to tell you.” The machines were right, of course. She knew Merlin would have destroyed countless villages like the one she had destroyed. They would have burned to the ground.
“They didn’t learn from Merlin. What can they learn from me?”
246 Words
@mysoulstears.bsky.social
Lisa’s hands curled into fists as she struggled to keep a lid on her worry. “I need your help, Captain.”
Hermione looked up from the latest paperwork on the different projects the Sirens had going on. “Help with what?”
Lisa licked her lips. “Someone’s missing and I think they’re in trouble.”
Hermione set the paperwork aside with a frown. “Okay. Start at the beginning. Who are we talking about?”
“Barrett Anders, my…” She paused. What did she call the person who meant everything to her heart, but didn’t have a gender? “My lover and significant other.”
“Barrett’s missing? I thought you just saw him yesterday.”
“Them, they’re non-binary, and I saw them two days ago. But then their phone turned off and they’ve disappeared off the map. Even their other friends can’t find them.”
“Apologies.” Hermione dipped her head. “You’ve searched their online activity?”
Lisa grimaced. “Yes, ma’am. All online and phone activity stopped sometime yesterday. I’ve scoured every digital source I can, and I’m coming up with nothing.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “What are you asking, exactly?”
“I’m wondering if it’s time to do some true Search And Rescue, but it’s invasive and not strictly legal. I think they’ve been kidnapped by someone.”
“Do you know what to do, Circuits?”
“I do, I just don’t know if involving the cops is the right way to go, or if our team should go in alone. We’re faster, but with the cops there, we’ll have proof.”
245 ineligible #Sirens words
@siobhanmuir.bsky.social
“You know what to do.”
“I can’t, I won’t!1”
“You lost the bet so you must follow through.”
“I’ll be vulnerable and naked.”
“Maybe you won’t drink as much next time and make a stupid bet,” my boyfriend, Trevor admonished
I started stripping get ready for my debut wondering how fast you can run streaking. The moon overhead was starting to rise, and for a moment I hesitated. I darted running as fast, as I could across the football field. No one appeared to be there but the lights were on. I ran faster reaching the undergrowth where I preceded to run even faster until I reached the forest near my apartment.
I awoke the next morning, under a bush. Trevor was nearby watching over me.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked.
“The guys were mad they missed it.”
“Pigs!!”
“Your dad found out! You’ve been summoned.”
“Hurry, did you bring my clothes?”
He nodded and pointed.
My dad raked me over the coals telling me that I had betrayed the code. I explained the bet and he said that I was forbidden from drinking again.
“You’re my only child, you can’t reveal yourself so easily, next time you might be shot. The council might decide you aren’t worth keeping. I’d like some little gran-kits some day.”
I was much more careful after that as my pack- leader decreed and at twenty Trevor and I presented dad with twin gran-kits, now we know what he was so worried about.
250 words
@SweetSheil
“Opening a temporal gate; what was she thinking?” Vedania scowled.
The arcane archer stood from studying the traces of magic to face her sisters. And Natazla.
“Do we know when she went?” Emathyst cocked her head.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Natazla met Vedania’s gaze coldly, from her place at Emathyst’s side. “She went back to see her mother.”
Vedania sparked with barely contained rage.
“I am her mother!”
Natazla smirked darkly. Oaklie glanced wide-eyed at the others.
“If she changes anything with Malain, that could be seriously bad! I should go back after her!”
Vedania shook her head.
“You’re too excitable. You’d be a bigger threat to the timeline than Spooky. I’ll go.”
Natazla laughed sharply, “You? If you went, you couldn’t resist killing Malain early.”
Vedania narrowed her eyes.
“I know what has to happen.”
“You know what to do. Maybe. But I know where to look for Spooky. Also, my magic can smooth over any damage we do to the timeline. It has to be me.”
Vedania scoffed, “Why would we trust you not to help Malain win?”
“I believe in her,” Emathyst offered airily.
“Thanks, babe.” Natazla softened before turning back to Vedania. “I’m in a good place for the first time in my life. Do you think I’d risk that? You know how self-interested I am.”
219 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
Soccer Sabotage
“You know what to do,” the manager told the chef.
There was a spread of Chinese food on the lodge’s dining room table awaiting the party when they entered from the verandah, full of chat and banter. Veritable shoals of Thai-green curried shrimp occupied one massive punch bowl, the meats ovoid or fetal in shape, so fresh that they were still practically thick with their beachside ozone redolence. Practicing their sport for most of the day, the men and boys were ravenously hungry, the dish a firm favorite among them.
Only Jones, allergic to shellfish, and Shillman, whose Jewish heritage prevented the consumption of it, had the beef in black bean sauce. They were the only players not to succumb to the food poisoning that plagued the team for the rest of the night. The following morning, with half the group reclining in beds in intense stomach pain and nightmarish sweats, and others confined to their ensuite bathrooms alternately vomiting and defecating, they had to cancel the big final against their opponents, whose coach was the cousin of the lodge manager.
Compelled to forfeit, the visiting group departed at the scheduled kick-off time on their team bus, with many toilet breaks on the way home.
205 words Tw: @ragtaggiggagon
#ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.
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