Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 662. 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 662:
Jolly cynic and Transcendentalist groupie, K.R. Van Horn.
Bluesky |
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“A name popped into her head.”
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!
Eat-Work-Bray
I was enjoying Dinky’s omelette so much that I suggested to Ms. Klopp that she ought to order one for herself.
She demurred, countered with, “Powdered eggs? I don’t think so.”
My gullet gasket was flabbered, doncha know. Life on the moon required flexibility. Chickens were a creature of the past. We had crossed that road many moons earlier.
I let it go, however. I napkined my visage when I was done, nary a scrap of egg glop remaining on my plate or my mug, said, “ Okay, Katie Klop, lets go find your missing LapTipTop.”
She was eager to boogie. My plan was simple. Retrace her steps. The party where she had snooted the Uranus Gold was called Ergo’s Den. We began there. I asked if she had noticed anyone following her. She said, “Of course. I’m the type.”
I could see that she thought well of herself which was not unexpected. One of the side effects of Uranus Gold was a heightened sense of superiority. Blessed with an inflated ego, I saw no need to challenge myself in that way.
I complimented her by saying, “I can well imagine you attract many admirers. Anyone in particular last night?”
Her eyes super-novaed up. “There were so many.”
I could see her brain machine kicking into high gear and it appeared that a name popped into her head. She blurted out, “Gizmo Sage. My immediate underling.”
“Then,” I posed, “He might want to hurdle you?”
Her noggin waggled yes.
250 WIP maybe
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
“You should be more careful.”
Aisling could only stare at the man who’d appeared from the shadows moments ago. The man who’d jerked her back from the curb as she was about to step off it in front of that speeding car.
“That car came out of nowhere.” She inhaled deeply to settle her nerves. “Thank you.”
“You need to be aware. There are those who would do you harm.”
Her laughter trilled in the dank air. “I am nobody. Who would care?”
“You’d be surprised.”
A name popped into her head. “Are you speaking of Obemmm…”
Ariel clapped his hand over her mouth so the word was muffled. “Do not speak that name aloud. Better yet, do not even think of him.”
“But—”
“Trust me on this. If you speak of him, he will appear.”
He’d cut her off again and Aisling’s temper rose. She added a scoffing tone to her voice when she said, “That is an old wive’s tale.”
“There is a reason those tales are passed down.”
She tilted her head, squinting at the handsome man. Her eyes teared and his image wavered. She’d swear she saw pointed ears for a moment. “Who are you really?”
“No one special.”
She scoffed again. “Oh, right. I’m not an idiot. Someone like you doesn’t show up in someone like me’s life.”
It was Ariel’s turn to scoff. “Are you truly this clueless? Do you not know what you are?”
“I’m a librarian.”
“And so much more, Aisling Goodnight.”
****
250 Penumbra Papers WIP words
Silver James
website: https://silverjames.com
A name popped into her head.
Laura. She was Laura.
Someone knocked and opened the door.
“How are you doing today, Louise?”
“I’m Laura. Who are you?”
“I’m Gina, the morning nurse and you are Louise Johnston. I’m here to get you ready. Your son, Ron will be coming to visit you at eight thirty.”
“No, my name is Laura and I don’t have a son – only my daughter, Veronica.”
“Well, at least you managed to dress yourself. Breakfast will be here soon.”
The nurse left, closing the door behind her.
Louise sat down on her bed and picked up one of the cards from the nightstand.
“Love ya, Mom,” it said, and it was signed “Ron.”
She picked up another.
“Get well, Louise, from Darlene.”
She put both cards back onto the nightstand just as her door opened again. This time, a young man entered, pushing a cart that contained a small carton of milk, a sealed cup of orange juice, a plate with scrambled eggs and toast and a knife and fork. He transferred it all to the bedside table.
“Here’s your breakfast, Louise.”
A name popped into her head.
“I’m Linda. Who are you?”
He ignored her.
“Well, here’s your breakfast.”
He turned and left. Louise slowly ate her breakfast, taking time to read the cards from the nightstand again.
Just after she finished her breakfast, the door opened again. It was her son.
A name popped into her head.
“I’m Lisa. Who are you?”
249 words
@LupusAnthropos
I’m awful with names. Especially people I don’t see very often, like extended family that I thought were ancient when I was a kid.
Thus my discomfort at the woman staring me down. Her fierce green eyes, greying red hair, and short, thin stature are familiar. No family are currently within polite ear shot; I’m not going to shout during my grandfather’s visitation.
[It’d be funny if you did, Cat]
My grandfather, still spunky until his recent passing at 91-years-old, grins beside me. He only calls me Carla when he’s mad at me, otherwise, I’m Cat. It’s fun working for Death because my deceased family members visit me at their visitations.
[You gonna tell me who this is?]
[Nope. I’ve got people to haunt. Good luck, Cat!]
I rack my brain. And then, a name popped into her head. Quite literally. “Lois?”
“Yes! I wasn’t sure you’d remember, you haven’t seen me since you were six!” She wraps me in a perfume clouded hug, then stands back. “My how you’ve grown!”
“Yeah, it’s been a long time,” I say, because I feel the need to say something.
[You’re welcome, Cat]
Grandpa stands next to my brother, who also works for Death, and who is also beset by a long-forgotten relative. Grandpa grins at me, pats my brother on the back, and moves my great aunt’s purse to the floor, knowing it will freak her out. Hauntings are forbidden; Death is going to have a hard time reining him in.
@Aightball
249 words
Quizzler raised his head, his eyes a luminous yellow.
“Do you think,” he said, “It’d be as easy as that? What would be the power of a regular name: one anyone could guess?” He pushed his shoulders backward, making himself larger, looming directly over her. “I’m having far too much fun being obtuse and evasive. I think they’re my superpowers.”
Nina took a breath. Just a small one, like a sigh in reverse.
“But where’s the sport in that? Surely, it’d be better if I had a little hope. A mechanical clown can live forever, so long as he has his own key. A girl like me is ephemeral and finite, a flame on a tea light candle. I could guess until I was old and wrinkled and still never find it. Just a hint, so I can make my guesses and not give up.”
The automaton gazed at her as though she wasn’t there. He had no eyelids and other than his mouth, his face was immobile.
“A hint, you ask,” he said, his lips clattering together. “Let me cogitate on the permutations.”
A moment passed. And then another. The clown whirred and sang to itself, meaningless words without a recognisable melody.
“Whatever you think, it is not my name. How about that? Will that suffice for you.” It winked, even though it shouldn’t have been impossible.
Nina thought a moment and then a name popped into her head. “I think it’s Pennywise,” she said. “Either that or Stephen.”
250 words – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com
Apparently, a name popped into her head. She looked at the cat. “I shall call you, Daisy.”
I stared at her, “Why, Daisy?”
“She looks like a Daisy to me.”
I paused, nodded, and continued, “I assume you don’t mean she looks like a daisy flower.”
“I don’t. And look. She acts like a Daisy, too.” The cat purred and walked in a circle around my feet, making sure to rub her cheeks against my ankles. “She certainly likes you.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Pushover. A pretty girl gets you every time.”
I sat down in the chair in the visiting room. The cat didn’t ask. She just climbed up into my lap. I stared at her. She purred. What else was there to do but scratch her ears?
“Daisy certainly likes you,” she said. She looked at the cat, “Nobody does ears like him, do they?”
Daisy purred.
“Why did I let you bring me here?” I asked.
“You didn’t really have a choice, you know.” She smiled that smile that lit up her eyes. I already knew we’d be walking out of the shelter with Daisy.
“I know.” It was true. She led. I followed. It was easier. And she’d been talking about a cat for weeks ever since our last cat crossed the rainbow bridge. “I’m getting too old to care for cats, you know.”
“You’re not dead yet.” After 40 years, she knew me well. And I knew better than to argue with her.
249 Words (Per Google Write)
@mysoulstears.bsky.social
Pippi Pierrot’s demon had gotten stronger. Perhaps she had overindulged it. Come to depend on its power too much. The others hadn’t seemed to notice, but it took them hours too long to cross the fairground. Now it was too late to make the return trip before dark.
The demon burned in her heart and mind. Pippi ran away from home two years ago to keep it away from her loved ones. Now they were back. A stone’s throw away, and she couldn’t even tell her friends why she wouldn’t go into town with them.
Her demon demanded the prey that had been denied to it. Alternately raging and enticing until the too, too many voices in her head drowned out the world. The voices changed tack. Pippi’s heart lurched at the sweet suggestion she give her demon one of her new friends instead. She couldn’t do that!
A name popped into her head. Angelina. It would be so easy. No! If Pippi took Angelina’s book, she wouldn’t even need to use her demon’s power. Angelina was the one they’d all come together to protect in the first place. Pippi would never betray her.
But then, what could be safer than for Pippi to be the one pulling Angelina’s strings?
210 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
#ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.