Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 670 of 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 670:
Desk Jockey by Day, Writer by Night, Pecking her way through life, M.L. Gammella.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“He didn’t go with you?”
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!
Besties and Beasties
“He didn’t go with you? I’m shocked Bessie. Flabbergasted in fact!”
I trust Louise. She’s always been there for me but evidently I hadn’t communicated all that well to her.
“Sweetie,” I tried again. “Did you miss the part about it being a dream? “
She smiled right away and replied, “No, of course I didn’t. That’s what love is . Sharing dreams with your partner. You had a great dream. Swimming across Lake Watchamacallit. All you wanted was him to row alongside you. Be there in case, you know, you sunk like an early prototype submarine. And Frank didn’t…”
“He didn’t but I was just dreaming that I was swimming across Devil’s Lake. That’s what its called, not Watchahummer or whatever you said.”
“I have porridge on the stove, Bess. Back in a sec…” and she stepped away from our weekly Zoom check in.
“Wanna refill on your coffee, hon?” Frank said, peeking into my sewing room.
“Love it,” I said, passing him my almost drained cup.
“Louise vanish?” he asked, looking hopefully at the screens empty space.
“Something on the stove. She’ll be back.”
“I’ll get your refill.”
Just as Frank left, Louise popped back on the screen. “Where were we?” she asked.
“My dreams.”
“Right. So when are you going to do your Diana Nyad thingy?”
I had to laugh. “Loved that movie but it was just a silly dream. I’ll do all my swimming in the hot tub.”
“With Frank?”
“You betcha.”
249 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
Barrett sat with Sindee and the other queens in the dressing room as Mama Audasity relayed what the police had told her. Suzie Que had been killed and left along the side of the road still in her drag costume, though it hadn’t been the same as what Suzie usually performed in. Something about the description seemed off to Barrett.
“I can’t believe Carl’s dead.” Juliet Romero, the Italian Duchess, AKA Luigi Vermetti, scrubbed his face with his hands. “I just saw him at the coffee shop a week ago. I said wanted to stop at the pizza place to get a slice or two and invited him along.”
“He didn’t go with you?” Sindee raised her head to wipe her eyes with a tissue.
Luigi shook his head. “No, he said he had to go home to get ready for a hot date.”
“Did he tell you who it was with?” Barrett wiped their own eyes. Yeah, they hadn’t liked Carl all that much, but they’d never wished him dead, or killed in such a way.
“Nope. He was keeping it to himself not to jinx it. He was afraid someone would come and sweep the guy out from under him.” Luigi’s gaze landed on Barrett.
“What?”
“I dunno. Carl always felt really intimidated by you, Barrett. He complained a lot about you being Mama’s favorite, and always getting the good bits and performance times.” Luigi shook his head. “You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?”
250 ineligible #SirensInc Words
@siobhanmuir.bsky.social
I face the group in front of me, doing a quick head count. This is sort of an anteroom to the afterlife and it gets crowded quickly.
“Okay, I’ve got 19 of you…I thought we had 20. Anyone seen Davis?”
The group murmurs and shakes their heads. I look back, but the door is shut and it won’t open until these people have dispersed to their next location. I know I had 20 people with me, because when that building came down, these were the only ones who didn’t survive.
“He didn’t go with you?” I ask the person nearest me.
“No, ma’am. Maybe he was rescued? I wish I’d have been rescued.”
It’s not easy crossing over the souls of the departed, especially when these people didn’t expect to be crossing over. But their apartment building collapsed in the middle of the night and hourglasses don’t lie.
“I wish all of you could’ve been saved. But unfortunately, here we are, so now we’ve got to figure out where you’re all going.”
The second door opens and family members spill into the room, surprised and tearful reunions taking place. I keep hoping the rescuers will yank someone back but the headcount remains at 19.
“So…what happens to me?”
I look down into the tear-stained face of a six-year-old, wearing her favorite anime pajamas.
“Come with me,” a gentle voice says, from a third door. “You can call me grandma.”
I sigh. At least she’ll be safe on the Children’s Plane.
@Aightball
@250 words
“He didn’t go with you this morning? You alone face your father?”
“Father misjudged and maligned my fiancé,”
“Others say your fiancé killed his brother, to marry you.”
“I marry before my birthday, Friday, or face losing my powers ,but I would not marry a murderer!”
“Gisella , may I scree and show you what really happened?”
“Show me my fiancé’s innocence,”
As I watched, Damien walked into his brother’s apartment checked that the water at the bedside table had been consumed, then shot his brother nine times in the head.
Damien had killed Tomas wooing me to make me marry him instead. I was angry, fire flew from my fingertips which I hurriedly put out.
“I will lose my powers and my position as Queen in waiting,” I cried.
“Is there no one else you could marry?” Tristian asked.
“It has to be someone of magical ability who would add to my bloodline you know the rules. Who would marry me now?”
“Anyone would be honoured…”Tristian said then broke off a smile crossing his face.
“You’ve thought of someone? Who?”
“Me. With ancient bloodlines, I scree and channel spirits and I can also absorb anger and channel it outwardly.”
I smiled and took his hands and we married that very day. Damien rots in purgatory for eternity, as my father decreed.
Forty years have passed we have four daughters each with their own special powers ,but the best gift of all ,my friendship with Tristian turned into everlasting love.
250 words @sweetsheil.bsky.social
Kuroko Ikari slammed the front door into the wall. Twice, counting the ricochet off her forearm. One more slam of the door behind her, but she restrained herself from punching through Rain’s hanging planter.
Why did every trip home turn into an interrogation? If her moms were so dissatisfied with Kuroko’s choices, they should just stop asking. Storming to the kitchen, the leather-clad brawler prayed they had something stronger than Rain’s dandelion wine.
Was that a fluffy golden squirrel on the kitchen table? Kuroko surreptitiously checked for any of her housemates in the area. Satisfied she was alone; she investigated the table ornament further. Wings and a halo? So, had to be fake. Though how was the halo floating like that?
“Well, aren’t you a cutie? But who do you belong to?”
Kuroko’s stress melted away as the adorable animal demanded her full focus. Did Rose have a stuffed animal like this? As Kuroko reached to feel the fur, the squirrel stretched and yawned!
‘Rose and I have been working together. But I don’t belong to anyone.’
Was that the squirrel’s voice in Kuroko’s head?
‘It is.’ The squirrel sat up with his forepaws folded against his chest. ‘Based on the door slamming, you’ve just been home? Though your brother usually keeps you from getting that worked up. He didn’t go with you?’
“Uh… I can’t have Hideki play referee every time.”
Kuroko stared slack jawed at the… Angelic squirrel?
‘You may pet and feed me, if you wish.’
249 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
“He didn’t go with you?”
Ariel jerked. “No. Why would he?”
“Isn’t he like your…your squire? Or something?”
“I’m not a knight of the Round Table, Sade.”
“Cut me some slack, Ariel. I was four the last time I was in the Summer Court and I wasn’t exactly in a position to take Court Hierarchy 101 as an elective.”
He almost smiled. Once upon a time, that statement would have been laced with swear words. He’d have to give the vampire boyfriend credit where credit was due.
“Druic is…” And now he was stumped. “Let’s call him my intern.”
Coffee sputtered from between Sade’s lips as she’d just taken a big drink. Nikos reached over and slapped her back a few times. She choked, inhaled, coughed, and then took a big swig from her mug.
“Your intern. Like he’s in Fae business school?”
Ariel exhaled, the breath sounding too much like a sigh but he didn’t care. “How do you think we train the young ones, Sade? We aren’t born knowing our magic.” He glanced at the dragon. “I’m surprised you have nothing to say, Nikos.”
“We have other…names for those such at Druic but you are correct. It is not like we send our young to a place like Hogwarts.”
Sade sputtered again but didn’t choke. “Stop it. Both of you.” She arched a brow at the dragon. “You do realize that Hogwarts is a fictional place, right?”
He arched a brow back at her. “Is it?”
****
250 Penumbra Papers #6 WIP words
Silver James
https://silverjames.com
Sunshine was not the gifted flyer that Rose was, so she could not hover in place long. She circled the dragon, “The machines will tell them?”
“Yes.” The dragon continued to circle, keeping himself airborne. “The machines will talk with Merlin and Mystica. They will explain the coming war with the Angles.”
“And what do I do?” Sunshine needed to do something. To act in some way.
“You have wild magic. You cannot strike directly at the Angles. You can only take actions that cause them to react.” The dragon looked at the city of the Angles. “You can make it rain. You can make it hot. You can flood the city. But that’s all you can do.”
“Mystica and Merlin?”
“They can use their magic to have the world attack the Angles.” He continued to circle. “You should continue your journey. You have not learned everything yet. You are learning, but you are not there yet.”
“But I have to do something.”
“Merlin and Mystica will come. As will Scream.” The dragon almost hung in the air for a moment. “They will end the war.” He resumed moving in that circle. “You can do nothing.”
Together, they watched the Angles prepare for war.
“Go, fairy. Resume your journey.”
Sunshine started back along the path they had flown, away from the city of Angles. The machines asked, “The guardian? He didn’t go with you?”
Sunshine answered them, “He told me the truth.” She continued her journey.
247 Words (Per Google Write)
@mysoulstears.bsky.social
– The Place Between Places –
In the Realm of Painted Echoes, colors whispered and walls laughed and made us laugh and remembered our laughter. We. You and I. Remember? How we traced forgotten songs on stained-glass rivers, but the air was too hollow and polite?
And then in the Orchard of Silver Sleep, the foxes wore velvet coats and teacups sprouted from tree branches and a boy made of feathers offered us a dream in exchange for our names and we smiled and floated on and on
through the Marsh of Almosts, where we tiptoed past reflections of lives we might have lived. One showed us laughing at a dinner table. Another showed us in states of infidelity with people we almost loved.
In the Place Between Places, the sky was a deep plum stitched with goose-egg moons and clouds that hung limp and low like hammocks. Lanterns bobbed along invisible spiderweb strings. There, sitting on a swing made of wind, we met the girl with the moss-green eyes and let our souls speak to each other fluently.
She ran to us and we gazed and gazed and the girl asked, “He didn’t go with you?”
We shook our heads and the silent swing creaked and a petal drifted sideways and floated off to somewhere else.
She said, “Not all hearts follow the same map,” and she curled her fingers into our hands.
And we sat there, in that quiet place stitched between realms, where everything felt exactly like belonging to belonging to belonging.
249 words.
Let’s follow each other on X or Bluesky (@krvanhorn)
#ThursThreads Week 670 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.