Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 636. Year 12! What a fantastic testament to the writing community. Y’all rock!
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 US.
- 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 636:
Scottish Word Slinger, Dauntless romance author, and #ThursThreads host, Siobhan Muir.
Facebook | Bluesky | Patreon | Eden Books |
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“He needed more info**.”
**This can be extended to “information” if preferred.
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!
Digby
Digby was the kind of guy who never quite had the ability to decide on a course of action and stick with it. In high school, for example, he signed up for typing class. His mother had been a renowned typist/stenographer and even his father, Digby Senior, plagued with extremely large digits, endorsed the value of gaining skill in the typewriting arts.
But it was no surprise when the course was oversubscribed and the Vice-principle had Digby in his sights when he was looking for a volunteer to drop the course and sign up for art class.
You guessed it.
Digby decided that art was the way forward.
And I admit, he excelled at soap sculpture…or skullpture…because Digby loved to whittle huge bars of soap into skulls.
Creepy, but oddly entertaining.
Later on in life, he floated from job to job, saying repeatedly, “I don’t know. There’s got to be something better.”
Likely there was something better, but it became apparent that Digby would never find his nirvana job. Constantly searching he needed more information from a prospective employer than was reasonable.
Retirement benefits…will I make enough to retire on, he would ask each new prospective boss.
Invariably the answer was, ”It’s an entry level job, Digby. Wait and see.”
Eventually he did settle down, and in his thirties, went to university and got his teaching degree.
This allowed him to go overseas and teach in numerous countries.
Lost track of him then…
A true nomad…and excellent soap carver.
250 words
@billmelaterplea
Mac stared at his phone. Nothing. No response. Where was she? Hannah was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and Liam, along with the others, but it wasn’t like her to ignore both his calls and his texts. That itchy feeling—the one he couldn’t quite scratch—was back. Something was wrong.
“Mac?”
He glanced at Nate. “What?”
The other man narrowed his eyes. “You tell me. What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
Nate arched an imperious brow, the expression speakig volumes.
Mac tried to stare him down—a war between the former army sergeant major and marine captain, both alpha Wolves. He finally shrugged because he needed more info. “Have you talked to Jacey?”
“No. Why?”
“Anybody else?”
“Why would we talk to Jacey?” Leave it to Sean to be a comedian.
Reaching for patience, Mac said, “Any of you talk to your mates since we left?”
The men exchanged glances mostly humorous until they paid attention to Mac’s demeanor. Their faces all went blank.
“Hannah won’t pick up.”
“Are they in trouble?” Danny, the expectant father, jumped to his feet.
Sean grabbed his laptop and tapped keys. “I have GPS units on all the vehicles. Gimme a minute.” The men gathered around him, Mac leaning over Sean’s shoulder. “Intel coming through now, boss.” No one breathed. “They’re moving. Or at least your RV is, Mac.”
“Moving which direction?”
“Toward El Paso.”
He knew his wife. “She’s bringing Christmas here. I’m going to kill her.”
They all chimed in. “We’ll help.”
****
250 Moonstruck: Retribution WIP words
Silver James (@AuthorSilverJames – FB)
For fifteen years, Clarence’s job was to collect hourglasses. He rarely paid attention to names, but today, one caught his eye: Janice Peterson. His wife. Clarence put her in the cart, eyes watering. Taking a deep breath, he sent the cart upstairs so The One True Death could approve today’s twenty candidates for Death. He wondered why Janice was on the list. She would only be fifty now; he needed more information.
He’d been told he could always ask questions. When his cart returned, there was a neatly folded note with his name on it in beautiful calligraphy. With shaking hands, he opened the note, eyes overflowing.
“It is time, Clarence. She has grieved you for fifteen years and her heart could take no more.”
The second batch of hourglasses was ready. It always hurt to send the children up, even if they were sick and had no chance of survival. It reminded him of his daughter Michelle, born sleeping twenty years ago; he wondered who had tended to her hourglass. When the cart returned, there was another note.
“I will meet you in ten minutes.”
He clocked out and soon, The One True Death appeared. They walked into the dark lobby that had greeted him fifteen years ago. Moments later, Janice walked through, his brown haired, hazel eyed daughter Michelle standing next to her. He, Janice, and their daughter embraced and when he looked up, the family home, warm and familiar, surrounded them. It was good to be home.
@Aightball
250 words
“Hello?”
“Andrew? It’s Ryan, Ryan Knight. We met in Vegas a few months ago?”
A multitude of emotions ran through Andrew in a couple of seconds. Surprise, elation, nervousness, joy, uncertainty, and finally excitement.
“Ryan?” Andrew’s voice cracked and squeaked, and he had to clear his throat. “Sorry. Yes, hi. I’m surprised to hear from you.”
Regret echoed down the line. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I got wrapped up in a bunch of things here. My mom died and I had to get all her affairs in order.”
“Oh, my glory, Ryan! I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” Andrew tried to ignore the voice stating that yes, he was the asshole for his disappointment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m all right. It sucks, but it was a long time coming. Cancer.” Ryan took a deep breath. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I got a message from the Triple Star Ranch about setting up an interview. That was you, right?”
Andrew blinked. Had he called Ryan without even realizing? He needed more information, but the list of applicants for Mrs. Guthrie’s replacement and their numbers were on his desk.
“Wow, yes, that was me. I must have been on autopilot not to realize. Do I have you signed up for an interview?”
“Not yet. That’s why I was calling. I should be in Cheyenne tomorrow afternoon, but that might be too soon for scheduling. When would be a good time to swing by?”
246 ineligible #TripleStarRanch words
@siobhanmuir.bsky.social
#ThursThreads Week 636 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week. There will be NO THURSTHREADS next week as it’s the Thanksgiving holiday.