Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 708. 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 Facebook.
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 708:
College professor, equality enthusiast, and romance author, Louisa Bacio.
Facebook | Bluesky | Instagram |
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“She doesn’t need fixing.”
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!
The Case of the Wandering Writer
Maxine Whittaker’s husband was teary-eyed when he hired me. “She’s been writing her memoir for thirty-seven years. Almost finished it…if that kind of book ever really has an end.”
He paused, winced as if he’d been poked in the eye, as if he were caught on some sharp painful notion.
“I’m worried about Max. She had a rough go of it as a kid. Crazy mother, violent father. You’ve heard of cases like that, I imagine?”
I nodded. I’d lost track of crappy childhood stories. Most of the people who came my way had one. I’d almost stopped listening.
“Yeah,” I finally said. “A few.”
“Well, then you know. You go through all that, more than she’s even told me, I suppose…it’s all in that damn memoir. Living it over and over again, picking the scabs of every shitty thing that her parents did to her, writing it all down…”
He stopped again. I was glad of that. I needed him to focus on what he wanted me to do.
“You want me to find her? Any idea where she might have gone?”
“I think so. Her home town. The street where she lived. That horrible house.”
He stopped, smiled, said, “Look, she doesn’t need fixing. The only thing wrong with her is the past. Go get her. Bring her home.”
I nodded again, said, “I can do that.”
I was thinking though. A bloody fool’s errand.
At least this fool was getting paid.
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
Sinjen watched Sade from the window. He knew all her secrets. Her strengths—which were legion. And her weaknesses, fewer than she thought. Smart, brave—sometimes too courageous for her own safety. Caring. Still, she grappled one deep-seated fear and he fought against its entanglement constantly.
Sade would never admit it to anyone and especially to herself, but she’d buttressed herself against that biggest fear—abandonment. He’d known of the human child growing up in Mathias’s household. Mathias was his maker after all. But to think that now, he shared her bed? Her father, a mild man who understood numbers rather than emotions, had no inkling of how do deal with a child. Her mother had used her as a pawn—as had both Mathias and Oberon. Thank the gods Roman had been there. The Gargoyle became her rock—Sinjen almost smiled at the pun—and then Caleb became her guard dog, a role the Werewolf would readily admit. Even the damnable Fae, for all Ariel’s artifices, watched over her in his way.
He considered the words he’d said to those others who, whether they understood or not, were part of her found family. She doesn’t need fixing, she needs to be loved. And he did. Love her. She would age and die. He wouldn’t. Could he say goodbye? Or would he succumb to his own worst fear and become a monster, forcing a change she didn’t want.
He was a selfish bastard so all bets were off.
****
250 Penumbra Papers random words (maybe in the current WIP…or not. LOL)
Silver James
https://silverjames.com
That’s why I live in Broken Pass now.
“Yeah, I don’t miss it. Besides, I have a life here now. I’m taking cooking classes and I’ve met someone.” Devon stopped. He hadn’t meant to tell Ben about Ann yet, since the man was a notorious gossip, but it had just slipped out.
“You’ve met someone? Is she beautiful? Rich? Older than you? Rich?”
Devon scrubbed his face with his free hand. “Yes, yes, no, yes, no.” Actually, given what Ann did for a living, she might well be rich, but she wasn’t paying him to be with her. He just liked her.
“So you got a new client after all. I knew you couldn’t leave the lifestyle behind.” Ben sounded smug.
“It’s not like that. She’s not paying me to be with her. I met her at the bookstore. Hell, she’s not even interested in sex.” That was refreshing. Devon was so tired of being treated like a possession or a fuck toy.
“Well, you can fix that. Just turn on that Summers Charm, and you’ll have her in bed in no time.”
“She doesn’t need fixing, Ben. She’s perfect the way she is. I like that she isn’t interested in me just for my body or looks.”
Ben snorted. “Then why is she with you?”
“Thanks a lot.” Devon scowled even if Ben couldn’t see it. “We share coffee and talk about books we’ve read. And she likes to try my cooking homework assignments. It’s been nice and fun.”
250 ineligible #SirensInc words
@siobhanmuir.bsky.social
“You convinced my daughter to take up pit fighting?”
The steel in Vedania’s voice was directed at Natazla, though her sharp eyes never left the arena below. The sorceress smirked at the hatred radiating from the elf.
“I helped her brainstorm possible outlets for her rage.”
“And why is she suppressing her magic?”
“Oh, you of all people should know about fighting without magic.”
A hidden blade flicked into Vedania’s hand closest to Natazla.
“Do you want to die?”
The sorceress covered her bitter snort with her gilded folding fan.
“I’m sure that would do wonders for your relationship with your estranged daughter.”
Vedania spun toward Natazla.
“We are not estranged! She’s come back home, hasn’t she?”
“And has she come to see you yet?”
The elf turned back to the arena.
“She’s only been back a week. I won’t push her away again.”
Natazla closed her fan and watched the fight below.
“We both know that isn’t true.”
Vedania’s grip tightened on her blade. She took a breath. Her grip eased.
“I just want her to know that whatever’s wrong, I can help her fix it.”
“She doesn’t need fixing. She needs support. Like her real mother never got.”
Vedania’s blade hand twitched.
“If you’ve been telling her about that woman, I will kill you.”
“Like you killed her?”
Vedania sighed.
“You used to be smarter than this.”
“I guess we’re all broken in our own ways.”
238 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
#ThursThreads Week 708 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week. Next week I’ll be unavailable so we won’t be back until June.