Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 691. 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 691:
Scottish Word Slinger, Dauntless romance author, gluten-free baker, and #ThursThreads host, Siobhan Muir.
Discord | Bluesky | Patreon | Eden Books | YouTube |
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“Do not get in my way.”
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!
Fat Eddie’s Pastry Palace
This morning, my sweet tooth was starting to squirm like a wriggly worm.
“Need a shot of sugar, Sweetie,” I moaned to my beloved.
We were still in bed and I knew we were, at the moment, egregiously cookieless.
“You’re incorrigible, you big lug. Go out and get something.”
That was the push I needed. But where to go?
Then I remembered that a new bakery was opening up across town. There were posters everywhere and social media had been bombarded for the inauguration of Fat Eddie’s Pastry Palace.
“Back in a flash,” I yelled, jumped out of bed, dressed, got in the car and whizzed away.
Traffic was fog-thick as I approached my snack quarry. I parked and started to hike. Two blocks away, there was a crush of humanity lined up like the Rolling Stones were in town.
In front of me were two guys, bruisers, huge men.
“Ah…” I started to say…”Is this a line-up for…?”
“Yeah, mutton breath. Fat Eddie’s.”
“Looks long…” I added, stating the obvious.
The larger of the two pastry fiends looked down at me and said to his gargantuan friend, “Bright boy’s pretty smart. Do not get in my way, bright boy. No queue jumping here…”
“Doughnuts? “ I muttered. “How could they get in your way?”
“Funny guy…” the big one said…”Yeah, doughnuts, tarts, Nanaimo bars, the works…so cool your jets.”
It took two hours.
And a sign.
Just posted.
SOLD OUT!
SORRY!
Life is so unfair.
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
Ariel sprawled on the boulder, the very essence of insouciance. This was a role he knew well, having played it at court for hundreds of years. The dark fae stared at him. His only response was to arch one brow—a sure invitation to challenge him
Bran sighed inwardly. He hated these games. “Stand down, Orin.” The other fae did not respond so Bran cuffed him across the back of his head. The gesture earned him a growl.
“What’s the matter, Bran Fox? Mutiny in the ranks of the Queen’s Ravens?” Ariel drawled out the taunt, sarcasm evident in his tone.
“No more than usual. I do, however, find it interesting that the King’s Seducer has been reduced to a mere errand boy—and one who has failed to retrieve his prey.”
Orin snarled at both of them. “Let me kill him and then we will be done with this.”
Ariel’s laughter rang out, as sweet as steeple bells chiming out the hour. “You can try, Odhran Carragh, but I’ll not be caught in your trap so easily.”
Bran took a mental step back. How did Ariel know Orin’s true name? He grabbed the back of Orin’s leather jacket just as the man lunged toward Ariel. He flexed his magic and Orin stilled.
Sliding off the boulder, Ariel faced them, his face expressionless though power reverberated in his words. “Do not get in my way. And tell Mab her time is coming.”
“Tell Oberon the same. My queen is coming.”
****
250 Penumbra Papers #6 WIP
Silver James
silverjames.com
RAWR!
“Ow! Why did you bite me?” I ask my cat, Cleo, as she hisses at my foot. She licks her tail, the end of which is puffed up. “Oh. Well, that’s on you. Don’t get in my way and you won’t get stepped on.”
Dodging her angry glare, I make it to the bathroom without incident and she joins me, impatiently waiting for breakfast. My bladder comes first and she knows that. Once she’s fed, I hop in the shower. Halfway through, a cold breeze hits my skin, the door banging open. Cleo blinks at me from the edge of the tub, careful to avoid the water.
She walks back behind the liner, then hops down, splashing her feet a bit while I finish showering. Strange cat. The moment the water shuts off, she starts licking the shower curtain. When I’m ready, she races me down the stairs, the hall light making the tiger stripes hidden in her grey fur pop.
RAWR!
I feel her tail under my foot as I reach for the coffee pot. Her teeth sink into my ankle.
“Cleo! Stop getting under foot!”
She hisses as I pour coffee into my insulated bottle. Dodging her swinging tail, I straddle her to crack an egg into the frying pan. I grab the small pan of milk and froth it before dumping it into my coffee. Cleo sits patiently on the rug, waiting for her bite of cheese and ham.
“You’re naughty. No ham and cheese!”
RAWR!
@Aightball
250 words
Shuffling down the country road was a crowd of easily forty to fifty, not one over four feet in height. All goblins. All women. And coming from the direction of yesterday’s explosion. The one in front had long black hair, a blue dress, and a sword clearly intended for someone twice her size.
Hanako stepped off the road to allow them to pass. Her bugbear companion loomed ominously behind her. The weary women stopped alongside the cleric and her companion. Their leader locked eyes with Hanako.
“Forgive us, but we have just escaped the Arch-lich’s slavers. Do you know of anywhere for those like us to take shelter?”
“Oh my.” Hanako touched her holy symbol. “Such an ordeal; are you in need of provisions?”
“We have scavenged enough for now. If we can find shelter.”
The leader’s blue eyes shone with conviction and clarity that Hanako had never before seen among her smaller cousins. The hobgoblin nodded.
“I recommend the harbor town on the southern peninsula, or the valley between those two peaks—if you prefer a more rural environment.”
The leader considered Hanako’s indicated directions. Then her ragged group.
“What if we do not get in?”
“My way is marked with this symbol.” Hanako held out her holy symbol. “Follow it and you will be welcomed and provided for.”
The goblin nodded, “Where do your travels take you?”
“Oh, to end the threat of the Arch-lich.”
The goblin’s grip tightened on her sword.
“A worthy endeavor indeed.”
248 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
#ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week!