Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 715. 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 715:
Cat wrangler, master violinist, and Tea connoisseur, Muirlette #1.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“I hope I’m wrong.”
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 Cat-astrophe
He was a funny little guy. Red socks. And a cravat. He particularly mentioned that it wasn’t a tie. He never wore a tie. It was a cravat.
It made no never mind to me.
Still, I was tempted to call it a scarf but I try not aggravating paying customers.
Which he was.
And you could easily see where his passions lay.
Whether tie, cravat or scarf, there were oodles of kittens implanted on the material.
Cute little gaffers.
“I hope I’m wrong,” he said, holding back what I imagined were a torrent of tears. “Obama never goes missing.”
“Your cat?” I asked.
“I’m more his human,” he replied.
“Point taken,” I quickly offered, adding, “Have you called the SPCA? Missing cats are more their field.” I wanted to add up their tree but that seemed trite.
Not that I was above trite.
“I did. They are overwhelmed with missing dogs, they said. Cats, they said…usually up a tree.”
“And you’ve already looked at your trees?”
He nodded. “Obama doesn’t climb trees. I fear the worst.”
“The worst being?”
“Stolen. People often tell me, keep him indoors. He’s such a pretty puss. He is. I have.”
“Anyone particularly in mind…cat-thief types?”
He handed me a list.
“A lot of names!” I declared.
“I’m sure it must be one of them. You’ll start now?”
“I’m on the case,” I declared. “Could take a while.”
“My life is on hold,” he said, softly.
“Mine too,” I thought to myself.
250 Words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
“Your time at the Summer Court, how much do you remember?”
Tilting her head, Sade stared at Ariel before her brows knit in concentration. “Not sure where you’re going with this.”
“The rumor was that Oberon was your sire.”
Sade snorted. “Like Fae and Humans can procreate.” She blinked when Ariel didn’t immediately respond. “Wait. They actually can?”
“What do you know of changelings?”
“They’re myth. That whole spiel about Magicks stealing a human child and leaving a creature that looks human in their place is just a story. People used that excuse when a child was…different.” She was not thrilled by his expression. “So…we got that wrong too?”
Ariel nodded slowly. “I will admit that we fostered the idea.”
“What else will you admit to? Are you saying that there are half Fae kids running around?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what exactly.”
Ariel stared into his coffee cup as if trying to read the creamy swirls there. “It’s rare. The magical cost is incredible. But…” He sighed. “It has happened, though not as you described.”
“Explain.” Sade’s voice held the terse edge of an order.
“Changelings are created with magic then the infants are placed into the human world.”
“For what purpose?”
“To open a gate.”
“Why? All of you can use portals.”
“There’s a difference. Gates are direct paths between realms. The royals fear Mab is involved and there is a changeling here.”
Sade gulped. “Are you serious?”
“I hope I’m wrong.”
“If you aren’t, we’re screwed.”
****
250 Penumbra Papers #6 WIP words
Silver James
https://silverjames.com
“Bullshit.” Quan Yin shook her head. “I saw how she handled Carpet. She gave him one look and he turned away on her orders like he was under a spell. And I saw Elder Races in her. Who is she?”
Carpet got his name from the phrase ‘the carpet matches the drapes’ because he often had his face in someone’s pussy and would tell after each encounter if they matched. He’d fuck just about anyone or anything that came through the gates on party nights, and he was never easily turned away. I’d seen him grab Anna, and my blood boiled, but she’d shaken him off and he’d walked away without a fight.
“Anna is…” I didn’t know how to tell the members of my club any more than I could explain to Anna. “She’s… special.”
Quan Yin rolled her eyes. “No duh. Tell me who she is to you and where she gets her Elder Races heritage, or I won’t let her in here again.”
I let my breath out in a growling grunt. “She’s human, but she wasn’t always human. Or maybe she only has a human veneer until she’s had enough experience. Or she might never find out that she’s more than human. I hope I’m wrong about that because it would be a sad day if she never learned about her heritage, but still—”
“Anubis, cut to the fucking chase, and tell me who she is or she’s barred from entering.”
246 ineligible #ConcreteAngelsMC words
https://socel.net/SiobhanMuir (Mastodon)
“I hope I’m wrong,” Andi Simkins thought. “Nope, one left.”
From the liquor cabinet Andi withdrew a new bottle of vodka, gave the top a vicious twist and poured enough into her glass.
She walked into the family room, took a large sip and placed her glass on the cocktail table, noticing how sunlight through the vertical blinds metamorphosed into rainbows by the cut glass, ice and vodka. When the glow changed to neon tangerine, Andi marveled at how the color painted the gray room a citrus hue, but locked it — and her — behind the black bars of the blinds’ shadows.
Pulling aside the blinds, Andi gasped and shaded her eyes.
“Joel, hurry up here and see this,” Andi called to her husband.
“Soon as I finish, hon,” Joel replied. “Hmmm…seven-letters for skyline,” he mumbled, as an Eagle player intercepted a pass. Joel looked up at the TV and recalled that trip to Philadelphia. Business. Where he began his thing with Patty Diana, his newest work wife.
“Joel, please, you’ll miss….” Andi sighed, watching the passing of another day in the overall autumn of things.
It brought back afternoons spent looking out the window of their third-floor walkup, when Joel would comb his fingers through the tangle of her auburn hair as they’d watch the sun sink beyond the southwestern horizon.
Andi had to admit, tonight’s sundown had its own charm — like flames decaying into glowing coals — especially when viewed through a glass of Ketel One on the rocks.
250 words
@JAHesch on X
@jahesch.bsky.social
I hopped in the shower, took the poison ivy scrub and coated my arms with it. “Scrub that sucker in for 3 minutes.” I did. I scrubbed, and scrubbed. “I hope I’m wrong. I hope I don’t need this.”
The question was the normal one when I pulled down that stupid vine from the north side of the house. “Is it poison ivy, poison oak, or virginia creeper?” And I could never be sure.
I’d looked up the damn thing a thousand ways. On the internet. In the dictionary. Hell, I’d even used a Boy Scouts handbook. It always came back to the same question. “What the heck is that thing?”
Sometimes I don’t think it mattered, really. Because I’d ignored it, and pulled the stuff down, and broken out in a rash on both arms. An itchy rash with bubbles. Just like a poison ivy rash. Took 2 weeks to get rid of the stuff. It’s tough to work when your arms are on fire.
Since then, I used gloves and a long-sleeved shirt when I pulled that stuff down. And after pulling it down, and putting it in the big trash bag, I always got a shower, and used the poison ivy scrub.
I hadn’t broken out since I’d started that.
“Better safe than sorry.” I washed the scrub off. The scrub made soap look cheap. And a tube of it didn’t last nearly as long as a bar of soap did. “Damn, stupid vine.”
247 words (Per Google Write)
@mysoulstears.bsky.social
Whatever angle the mutated transfiend rushed the princess from, the middle-aged Yoji Harada drove him back with his laser sword. The bladed horror howled his indignation.
“How do you keep doing that?! The Demon Queen promised my speed would be unbeatable!”
“The Demon Queen is a traitorous, lying bitch.”
An edge of contempt broke through Yoji’s stoic demeanor. He hated to admit it, but the old soldier would be hard pressed to stop the fiend if his moves weren’t so easy to read.
“Uncle, we must return to the ship immediately!”
Himeko Harada referred to Yoji according to the cover story she concocted for the humans. But she also mentioned the ship. The veteran raised an eyebrow.
“Hime-sama?”
Yoji saw an uncharacteristic hint of fear in the princess’ eyes. He’d defeated the Demon Queen’s transfiends many times before. So why?
“I hope I’m wrong. But if my calculations are correct, this enemy is unlike any we have ever faced.”
“Let’s change the game!”
The fiend snapped his fingers and a spiked metal ball dropped by his feet as a ring of the Demon Queen’s Shock Troopers dropped around Himeko and Yoji. The fiend kicked the ball to the closest trooper, who kicked it to another on the other side of Himeko. That one kicked the ball at Himeko’s head.
Slashing the ball down forced Yoji to stop the fiend’s simultaneous attack with his own body. Getting back to the ship was going to be problematic.
245 words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
#ThursThreads Week 715 is now closed. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.