Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 689. Year Lucky 13! The last year of the cycle, the Moon Year. To those who keep coming back, I’m delighted to see you again!
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 Discord 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 Bluesky, MeWe, Discord, and Mastodon, etc.
Our Judge for Week 690:
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:
“Now you’re getting it.”
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 in the Moon Year. Good luck!
Trump 101- A Trumpapaloosa Crash Course
As soon as I saw the night school notice about a course that would help simple folk understand the murky mind of Trump, I signed up.
It was either that or go nuts.
The teacher, a local minor poet/philospopher named Helios Harangue had capped the class at ten students.
We were a mishmash of locals. A couple of solo seniors, three teenagers who looked like they wanted a career in politics, and the rest Millennials who were tired of being confused.
They weren’t alone in that.
The first night was the best. Minnesota was on the verge of insurrection. Machado had just met with Trump. Wacky POTUS was threatening to invade Greenland. One third of my fellow Canadians were convinced Donnie was going to invade us and the whole Middle East quagmire was on the verge of WW3.
Trump hadn’t mentioned Ukraine or Epstein in days.
As my fellow night school classmates got to know each other, we all shared how we had managed coping with the inanities of his first term, the subsequent Biden gap and then the Phoenix-like return of Trump in 2025.
Helios made a suggestion that had us rolling in the aisles. “What if Trump made Machado the Potentate of Greenland for a year?”
“Like an apprentice?” one of the Millennials asked.
“Now you’re getting it,” he answered. “That’s what the course will be about. Drilling into his oil-rich thought processes.”
Heads bobbed furiously.
We were all sold.
Sanity begone.
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
“Good. And just between you, me, and the exercise equipment, I think you’re perfect for him. You’re just the right mixture of salty and sweet to keep him on the healing track.”
Corbin ducked his head a bit. “Yeah, well, being his longest friend might have something to do with it.”
“Eh, maybe, but I’ve seen how you two are together, and I think it’s more than that. However it goes, I think you’re great for him. You take care, now.”
“Thanks, Wahlberg.”
Corbin waved and headed back to the main group of SEALs who were saying their goodbyes. Corbin eyed Martin and recognized the signs of fatigue as the others gave him hugs or backslaps.
Corbin squeezed Martin’s elbow. “Are you ready to go?”
Martin met his gaze and guilt flashed across his expression. “Yeah, pretty much. I’m wiped.”
“Okay. The car is parked right out front.”
Martin nodded and waved to those still left. They cheered him on as he and Corbin headed out to the entrance to the hospital. By the time they reached their vehicle, Martin had wilted and sort of slouched into the passenger seat while Corbin loaded his things into the back. When Corbin settled into the driver’s seat and turned on the vehicle, he glanced at Martin.
“You doing okay?”
“Just really fuckin’ tired.” Martin closed his eyes. “Socializing takes a lot of energy.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Corbin chuckled as he backed out of the parking spot.
245 ineligible #WiP words
@siobhanmuir.bsky.social
This is a lot more fun than I expected it to be. Next to me, my sister gives me the side eye. She’s new, she’ll get the hang of it.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
“Marlow has picked on me since kindergarten; now I can get her back.”
“Wait so…you’re haunting her?”
“Now you’re getting it!”
I push the rocking chair in Marlow’s room. No one said I have to spend my time in Limbo being bored to death.
“I’ll be right back!”
My sister walks off. It’s not that we don’t miss our families and such, we do, and we’d much rather be alive. But life doesn’t always work out that way, so we may as well have some fun on the other side.
“I swear! It moved! Why would I make that up?!” Marlow’s voice is worse than nails on a chalkboard. “Honestly!”
I remember our math teacher telling her to stop making fun of kids who got the answers wrong and she used that same whiny voice to ask why. I wait til the door closes, then move one of her figurines. I won’t ruin anything of hers, but that figurine is close to the edge of the shelf. She moves it back and I engage some back and forth.
“Gah!”
I move the figure again, rock the chair, then decide to let them be. Tomorrow seems like a good day to make scary voices at the track coach’s house.
@Aightball
249 words
James looked around at everyone. ‘Are you sure we are allowed to do this?
The guys all shrugged and laughed.
‘Of course we can.’ Dom said. James looked him up and down. Dom was clearly the most confident one and appeared to be the leader of this rag tag band.
He looked down at his own sorry clothes. It was all his mom could get together the night before: black boots, black trousers (the blackness thankfully hiding some greasy late-night food stains from 18 months ago), black jumper (covering his bright yellow t-shirt advertising his favouirite taco place), and his black and grey scarf which he’d picked up after a party he’d long forgotten.
Dom kicked the body in the gutter beneath them. There was a faint grunt from the woman.
‘Why are you all wearing masks? No one told me I should wear one.’
There were nervous laughs from all present.
‘Better safe than sorry.’ A lad called Stephen said, turning this way and that to face everyone in the group and beyond.
James shook his head. His first job in years and he was stood on a lonely pregnant woman. Getting paid for what? ‘It feels not quite right this.’ He said. ‘Should I get a mask for tomorrow so I can get a bit more involved with your ruckus moments?’
“Now you’re getting it. Maybe ask your mum to leave out your name tags—and tone down the ICE logos. Wonna be the solution, not the targets.”
————————
A.J. Walker
WC: 250
Bluesky: @zevonesque.bsky.social
In a voice Jack Frost would have been proud of, Ariel said, “Now you’re getting it.”
Sade breathed slowly through her nose and forced her fingers to loosen their hold on the coffee mug in her hand as she very carefully and precisely set it on the table. As much as she wanted to throw her hands in the air and rant, she would not waste an innocent cup of coffee. “I’ve always gotten it, Ariel.” She held up one stiff index finger and very deliberately pointed it at the vampire approaching from her blind side. “Stuff it, Sinjen. This is between the…” She sputtered, wanting to sling a long string of curses. Never taking her eyes off Ari, she improvised. “Arrogant, mouth-breathing, insufferable fae.”
Someone cleared his throat—either Caleb or Nikos. Sade ignored the sound. Her focus centered on Ari. “I know what your kind are capable of.” She didn’t care that Ari flinched at the venom in her tone. “Titania and Oberon might be the light court yet things they’ve done are criminal in all fifty states and just about every country in the world. I don’t need much imagination to guess what Mab, as Queen of the Unseelie Court, is capable of. I get it, Ariel. Rock. Hard place. Tough shit. You either help me or you don’t. But hear me and believe this. Do not get in my way.”
“You don’t understand.”
“So tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Then get the hell out of my way.”
****
250 Penumbra Papers #6 WIP words
Silver James
silverjames.com
“Would you like to come closer?”
Hanako inquired, poking her campfire with a stick. She wasn’t sure how long the hunched figure in the shadowy hills had been watching her. It had likely been hours. The aura of menace emanating from the figure suggested they weren’t hiding now.
“Oh, or do you not like the fire?” Hanako turned her gaze to the figure. “I’m sorry, but I will be needing it to cook my supper and for warmth.”
“You’re not scared?” the figure’s voice was a dying rasp, choked with rage.
“Now you’re getting it.”
Hanako smiled. She took a pull from her wineskin and began laying out her provisions.
“Would you like some?”
The cleric rose and placed a roll on a stone at the edge of the fire’s light closest to the figure. A great, hairy hand grasped the roll and pulled it back into the darkness without Hanako catching where it came from or went. As the figure ate, Hanako continued.
“The villagers are anxious to know if you have any more targets after the sheriff.”
“I punish bad men.”
The bugbear’s breath on the back of Hanako’s neck sent a shiver up her spine. She never even saw when the figure moved.
“Yes, but will there be any more here?”
The bugbear extended her monstrous hand into the firelight, the joints cracking and popping as she raised a finger to the tower at the end of the valley. Hanako clutched her holy symbol.
“Oh my…”
249 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
#ThursThreads Week 690 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.