Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 706. 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 706:
Gamer, writer, and responsive connoisseur of characters and stories, David Ludwig.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“Wish he was still here.”
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!
A Character Flaw
I was closing up shop when he whipped open my waiting room door and stood there, neon from the hallway blaring in behind him casting his tall thin ominous shadow into my face.
“Thank God,” he whimpered, “ You’re still here. You gotta help me find him.”
It was late and I was wankered. I’d spent the past twelve hours bird-dogging a known dognapper, Missy Pickering, seeing if she’d lead me to her kennel hideout.
The rub was, I recognized him, my emaciated interloper. Mac Holbrooke, old school mystery author. He wasn’t half bad. So, though my eyelids were weighing heavy, I thought, what’s the harm.
“Sit down, Holbrooke. Who’s missing?”
He plopped down on my waiting room sofa, caught his breath, said, “I thought he was still with me. Wish he was still here where he belongs. By my side. We’ve been together almost forty years.”
It was sounding like his boyfriend had finally gotten wise. Love sucks when you get old and tired. But he was here with his twisted hanky.
“So who is he and are you sure you want to find him?”
He gave me a look like I was the last fool in the world. “He’s…all I’ve got. You must know him. He’s like my brother. Donnie The Bruiser Trumper…that’s who he is…”
That knocked me back on my buttered flanks.
Donnie Trumper was his hard-ass detective creation.
Holbrooke had finally snapped. A case of Fictional Personality Phenomenon.
Too sad for words.
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
Aisling followed Carla’s suit and plopped her sock-covered feet on the coffee table. She sipped the chocolaty liquid in the mug she held and sighed happily. “What did you call this again?”
“Loco cocoa.”
“Well, it tastes magical.”
Carla let out a gigglesnort. “I may be a witch, Aisling, but magic potions are not my forte. It’s the peppermint schnapps.”
“Ah, that explains the loco part.” Aisling sipped again. “I’m okay, you know.”
“I know.”
Aisling’s sips turned into gulps. Carla wisely headed to the kitchen and returned bearing a thermal carafe. She refilled the other woman’s cup.
“I really am,” Aisling insisted.
“I know.”
Aisling sighed, the sound unhappy now. “Still…”
“Yeah, still.”
“Wish he was still here.”
“First love is like that.”
Aisling bolted upright, her feet hitting the floor and the cocoa sloshing over her hand. She quickly licked the spill off her skin before confronting Carla. “I didn’t love him.”
“Uh huh.”
“Still don’t.”
“Uh huh.”
Settling back down on the overstuffed couch, Aisling placed her feet back on the coffee table, once more mimicking her friend’s posture. “Why did he leave?”
“Don’t know.” Carla sipped her own drink. “But I get the feeling he didn’t want to go.”
“Do you think he’ll come back?”
“Don’t know.” Carla lifted her shoulders in a negligent shrug.
“You don’t care.”
“I care about you, Aisling. I don’t want you hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.” A silvery tear trailed down her cheek. “I’ll be okay.”
“Of course, you will.”
****
249 Penumbra Papers #6 WIP words
Silver James
https://silverjames.com