Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 697. 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 697:
Cat afficionado, Editor, and Mid Week Flash host, Miranda Kate.
Facebook | BlueSky | Goodreads |
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“They’re staying through every climb and fall.”
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!
Molehills and Mountains
“That’s it. The die is cast. They’re staying through every climb…”
“and fall?”
“You bet your petunia. Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer, the whole seasonal shooting match. Starting this Spring. Winter will cap it all.”
“I meant…not the seasons…that’s a very high peak. Don’t they call it Perish Peak?”
“It ain’t Pikes Peak, I’ll tell you that. Yeah, some of the mountaineers call it Perish Peak. Lost quite a few of my mates over the years. A thousand-foot rock face that’s the definition of vertical.”
“But you’re going with them…even though…”
“Said I would. Now mind you, I occasionally go off half-cocked and yammer my way into a corner…they know that about me.”
“But this is huge. A marathon….climbing Perish Peak For Peace up and down for a full four seasons. It’s never been done before, has it?”
“For good reasons. Kind of risky.”
“But you have to be a little…what’s a polite word…?”
“Courageous?”
“No, that’s way too polite. True…no, I was thinking…”
“Hairbrained?”
“Exactement!
“We even have two French climber’s in the party. But it’s an international effort.”
“And all for the cause of world peace? Sort of a long shot, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. Look, we’ve all got our niche…the things we do well…and you have to admit the world’s in pretty sad shape.”
“Can’t argue with you about that…but climbing the impossible mountain…?”
“Look. Writers write. Artists create their work. Politicians…jockey for a foothold…folks like us. We climb.”
“Well, good luck. I’ll be watching.”
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
Sade swiped sweat off her face, watching the carnage around them for movement. There was none. “We need to end this. Can’t you do something?”
Expression somber, Bran shook his head. “No. She is emptying her lands. They will keep coming. No matter what we do, they’re staying through every climb and fall.” He glanced down at Orin, still unconscious on the floor. “He’s a perfect example of her sway.”
She studied him, her suspicion so thick it almost rose from behind her like a dark shadow. “What about you? What hold does she have on you? How do we know you won’t betray us?
He shrugged. “I am here, not there. You don’t know. It is a chance you will have to take. It is your decision. I will either help or hinder, depending on the incentive.”
You didn’t answer the most important question,” Ariel said. “What does she hold that is yours?”
“Nothing. She holds nothing over me. Not now.”
Nikos weighed in. “Do you want money?”
Bran almost smiled. Typical for a dragon to go in that direction. He shook his head. “No. No money.” He stared at Sade. “I want you—”
The four men—vampire, werewolf, dragon, and fae— standing with her showed fang, growled, snarled, and sneered. “Amensty,” he finished. “I want you to grant me amensty. I want to see your world, to live there as I am—a man, not a shadow.”
“I can do that,” she said and held out her hand.
****
250 Penumbra Papers #6 words
Silver James
https//:silverjames.com
“They’re staying through every climb and fall,” I shouted over the roar of our smoking engine.
“I know, Jenkins. Keep them honest and let me take care of…Ahhh! Damn it!” Captain Bourke yelled behind me.
He put our F.E.2 pusher biplane into another dive and then a roll as I held onto my machine gun’s swivel. The F.E. stood for “Fighter Experimental,” but with three Albatros fighters peppering our birdcage tail, it felt more like “Forget England.”
I stood up and held onto the rear-firing over-wing gun, stitching twenty rounds into the red nose of one German fighter. Suddenly, my feet and his machine went straight up toward the French countryside, I hanging by my Lewis and he by a trail of flame I’d touched off in his engine. Captain had flipped us inverted and I wished I’d never left the trenches a mile below.
With a creak of wood and wire, he flipped us back upright and I crashed back into our two-man crew nacelle. A burst from my front gun caused a striped Albatros to jerk up into his wingman, snapping both their wings.
Then our engine made a deathly rattle and sighed its last.
Somehow, my pilot glided us to a swirling stop in the nearest swath of green on our side of the lines.
“Bloody miracle. Hope you never put us through another dead-stick landing, Skipper,” I said, turning to shake his hand, lifeless on the control stick.
250 War-torn words
@JAHesch on X
@joseph.andrew.hesch on Threads
@jahesch.bsky.social
– Ronnie, Daniel, and the Young Wizard –
“Yeah, right,” the onlookers chuckled. “A spell that works.”
Defiant, the young wizard tried to conjure flame. Instead, he produced a pathetic puff of bubbles. “No worries,” he exclaimed, attempting levitation and accidentally floating halfway up a building on Mainstreet.
His orange cat, Daniel, lounged nearby in the last patch of afternoon sun, licking his paws. And when the wizard finally floated down and grabbed his spellbook, they walked home together, heads high.
Unbeknownst to them, a small gray mouse had been nibbling and observing the proceedings with scholarly interest. And from then on, the mouse, Ronnie, was always nearby during the young wizard’s daily failures.
“Right,” the wizard muttered the next day on Mainstreet, raising his wand. “Just a small spark.”
There was a flash, a bang, and suddenly every hat, this way and that, began orbiting its owner’s head.
Daniel blinked. Ronnie climbed onto the wizard’s shoe for a better view.
After a while, the wizard sighed and plopped onto the sidewalk, watching the flying headwear.
“Well,” he said, “that’s not quite it.”
His two companions hopped into his lap.
The wizard scratched Daniel behind the ears and looked down at them.
“You know,” he said softly, “most proper wizards have apprentices and councils and very serious owls.”
Ronnie squeaked. Daniel licked.
“But I have the two best companions,” he said, smiling a little, “and it looks like they’re staying through every climb and fall.”
Above them, the hats continued their orbits at varying speeds.
247 words
@krvanhorn (Bluesky & X)
“Worgs.”
Zee voiced what they all were thinking. The party watched the number of dark beasts increase on the next ridge over. Luger adjusted his pack.
“Is it too much to hope they’re friendly?”
“Oh my.” Hanako sighed. “They’re staying through every climb and fall of the land. I’m afraid we’re being hunted.”
Boogey growled and cracked her knuckles. Luger glanced at the rest of his party.
“So? Do we wait for them? Attack? Ignore them?”
Boogey beckoned the others with a couple curls of her finger and another nasal rumble. The bugbear led them through the land, always just out of reach of the worgs—who seemed increasingly agitated with each sighting. She had the party securely ensconced among the rocks of a ravine by the time their pursuers caught up.
“Alright!” Luger dropped his pack and flourished his staff. “Let’s do this!”
The lead beast approached cautiously, its cold eyes evaluating the terrain. Hanako intoned a blessing on the party and Zee positioned herself and her sword between the casters and their enemies.
The first worg yelped as Boogey’s hand lifted it off the ground by the neck. She snapped the neck one-handed. Luger glanced dumbly between the teammate still by his side and the corpse fifty feet away. She was long limbed. But not that long limbed.
“Uh… Right.”
He made a mental note to stay on the Boogey Ma’am’s good side.
235 words
@DavidALudwig.bsky.social
“Hey, do you remember the Edgertons here in Three Lakes? They’re the ones who sold us the cabin, right?”
“Hmm, that sounds right. Your father had all the dealings with them over the cabin and I wasn’t too involved.” The dismissal in her mother’s voice told Grace that Rosemary didn’t think much of the sellers. “Why do you ask?”
“A man stopped by and knocked on my door—”
“A man? Oh, this is good news. Tell me more about him.”
“Don’t get too excited, Mama. This was a white man and he said his name was Patton Edgerton. He said his dad sold Papa the cabin and he used to play with me as children. Does that ring true to you?”
“Hmm, well, there were a lot more kids around when you were young, but I didn’t pay too close attention to any one of them in particular. What did you said his name was again?”
“Patton Edgerton.”
“Well, I’m sure we met him when he was just a sprout, but we didn’t know too many folks up there back then. We were just vacationers and kept to ourselves for the most part. I do recall some folks who said they’re staying through every climb and fall of the economy, but most of those folks either never came back after the first summer, or sold their places to find cabins in warmer climes. Can’t say I remember the Edgertons, though.”
241 ineligible #SirensInc words
@siobhanmuir.bsky.social
#ThursThreads Week 697 is now closed. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.