Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads for Week 725. 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 725:
Desk Jockey by Day, Writer by Night, Pecking her way through life, M.L. Gammella.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“Maybe it was time.”
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 Mountains in Sight
Walter Beasley had been looking in awe at the mountains across the sound for many years. Usually it was a glimpse between the forest of trees that stood between his walking path and the sea and the land beyond.
His favourite time to walk was in the summer. The trees that shaded the path protected him and others from the fierce sun yet the glow of light that funneled through the forest sparkled brilliantly and thrilled Walter.
Friends, mostly younger, and some not so spry, often talked about the trails and paths in the mountains beyond. They often ferried cross the bay and then hiked up and away almost into the clouds. They occasionally said, “Walter, you like walking. You would enjoy the experience. There is something marvellous about the mountains, the climb upwards.”
Walter would usually nod and occasionally say, “Perhaps. We’ll see.”
What he had never talked about was a day in his mid-teens when he had first walked in the mountains beyond the sea. It had been a fine Spring day and he had almost reached the remnants of the snow line when he saw what he still had no words for: a creature? A piece of cloud shaped as…as what?
He had hurried home and never mentioned the sighting.
Now, decades later, it was as if a dream.
His autumn had arrived.
Maybe it was time.
He felt the urge to know.
Was it still there?
He would make one last trek.
250 words
@billmelaterplea
@sterlings-son-2.bsky.social
Caleb broke int the conversation. “You could always ask him.”
Sade blinked. “Point blank?”
The men exchanged looks.
“Fine. I’ll ask him.”
“Ask me what?”
Three heads turned to the man who’d apparently materialized beside their table, since no one had seen him sneak up on them.
Sade pushed out of her chair. “Let’s take a walk, Ariel.”
He didn’t move. Leaving the pub with Sade would only cause the other two to follow. Besides, they were in this too. Maybe it was time to explain the situation. Not that it would help. Sade would continue to interfere, which would drag Sinjen and Caleb into it. And there was still the Dragon to be dealt with. Tatania had given him this task but Oberon had given him the ultimatum.
Ariel pulled out the empty chair and sat, gesturing for Sade to return to her seat. He repeated his question. “Ask me what, Sade?”
“Why are you here?”
“Your time at the Summer Court, how much do you remember?”
Tilting her head, Sade stared, 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 human children, leaving creatures that look human in their place is just a fairy tale.”
“All fairy tales hold a thread of truth.”
****
249 Penumbra Papers #6 WIP words
Silver James
https://silverjames.com
“Nice? Fun? That sounds so… I dunno, boring.” Derision dripped from Ben’s voice. “I mean, when you were in the biz did you ever describe your client outings as boring? No, you did not.”
“You said boring, Ben, not me. It’s been a great change of pace from constant dating. I’m not nearly as stressed or tired.” In fact, he’d been feeling a lot better than even when he was at the height of his escort days.
“I’m glad you’re taking a breather, then. But when you get back, you’ll have to start from scratch with your clients. Or find new ones.” Ben sighed. “I suppose I’ll need to help you.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m not in the business right now, so you just worry about you.” Devon rolled his eyes. “Hey, I gotta get going. I gotta prep for this week’s cooking class.”
“Yeah, okay, Chef Hottie. You prep for that class. I’m telling you, boring.”
“Bye, Ben.”
Devon ended the call before his friend said something more derisive about his choice of getting out of the escort business. The thing was, he was just tired of it, and of the women who saw him as some sort of possession to be displayed at will. But Ben was still deep in the biz and he couldn’t see the benefit of walking away.
Maybe it was time for Devon to find new friends who knew nothing about escorting. The question was how when he was new to town?
250 ineligible #SirensInc words
https://patreon.com/SiobhanMuir
Armor that looked like cloth bodysuits with what Cara had called motorcycle helmets wasn’t what the champions were expecting. But it seemed to work. Aalis was just glad their guardian animal spirits could grant them armor and weapons out of nothing. During the war, they’d only ever enchanted existing equipment.
Unfortunately, even with conjured equipment, the mechanical fiend they were facing had managed to trap both Kit and Ermengarde in cages of lightning. And the young prince, Dana, was struggling in their first encounter with a greater devil. That left Aalis, Yuuchi, and Raul to make up the difference.
Raul managed to trap the devil with his mancatcher and lever it in the air enough to let Aalis sweep her flaming greatsword through a chink in its armor. Before Yuuchi could land his attack, the fiend broke free and sent the Yellow Champion flying in a shower of sparks.
But the impact after the damage sustained shorted out the coil on the fiend’s right fist, dropping the cages around Ermengarde and Kit! This could be their chance!
“Enough! I will not see this offense so easily blunted.”
Aalis’s blood chilled at the sight of the apparition of a long-vanquished devil commander towering behind the electric devil. The apparition raised his cloak and a stream of gaunt devils streamed out into the electric devil, increasing its mass.
The champions tumbled back, out from underfoot of the suddenly hundred-foot devil.
Maybe it was time for a new strategy.
246 Great Guardian words
@davidaludwig.bsky.social
Maybe it was time to change. To walk off the job, and into freedom, and retirement. I stood and looked at the computer I was trying to work on and realized I couldn’t touch it right then. I was too panicked. Too anxious. I could try to work on it and get nowhere.
I backed up from the workbench. I move a good 10 feet back. As far back as I could, with my back pressed against the completed machine rack on the other side of the shop. It was a small place. Maybe 40 feet long and 10 feet wide. Filled with computers needing repair.
Repair was a kind word. The computers needed to be cleaned up, and tuned up, from where their owners had hosed them up. I looked at the computer I couldn’t touch any more. “You don’t deserve to own a computer.”
I looked up and down the row of computers. There were easily 30 of them on the bench. All in various states of repair.
I’d never walked away from anything in my life. I’d always found a way ahead. Somehow. For over 40 years I’d found a way ahead. But this time I was tired. And old. And I didn’t know how long I could keep working.
It was indeed time to change. I said goodbye to all the people in the department. Then I clocked out and I walked out of work. It meant early retirement. But it was time for a change.
250 Words (per Google Docs)
mysoulstears.bsky.social
Maybe it was time to paint the deck, I thought, looking at the rust spots around the nails and the boards that were more bare than white. My eyes drifted up to the roofline and I cringed at the number of things that maybe it was time to do.
Fuck an inflatable duck. It had been time three years ago. Now the house looked more like the before picture of some “Lookit what we did to fix up this piece of shit” TV show than a place where functional adults lived. Not that anyone would call me functional or what Mary did living.
A stray bark broke me out of my reverie, and I realized that the sun was closing in on the horizon. That wasn’t bad in and of itself, but Mary’d be looking for me soon, and I hated to make her wait.
The living room was in nearly as much disrepair as the backyard, but I decided to put twenty minutes of work into making it not look like a dump. Wouldn’t you know it? We actually had furniture and a floor in here. I’d just come in from taking the bags outside when Mary came up from the basement.
“Oooh, are we expecting company?” she laughed, putting her arms around me and nipping at my ear, her fang drawing just a bead of blood.
“Naw. Just, y’know, time.” Maybe it was time for something else, too.
I wondered if she’d want me to wash my neck.
250 words
@drmag00.bsky.social
I was early when I entered my in-law’s house.to my surprise I heard, “She’s a sponge, why you stay with such a mousy…
“Marjorie’s had a hard life; she deserves a little luxury,” I heard my husband’s voice quip.
“But she has $500 purse!” his sister, Anna had protested.
The purse, a recent gift, was from my paternal grandmother to make me know she wanted a relationship with me. I didn’t tell Allen where I got it . The truth? We weren’t married yet Allen lost his job a year ago and moved in with me after a prenup where we swore to keep all we brought in. My salary was keeping him in the lap of luxury, his club, his gym membership, his lunch dates all paid by me. Should I tell them? No, I’d wait he’d explain he’d defend me, I thought but he didn’t.
I heard Allen say.” I should never have married her She’s such a drain, so boring.”
Maybe it was time to tell him not only was I a CEO of my own company and that Grandpa and Grandma Shiftgate had told me today I was the heir to billions?
No, I’d leave!! No, he’d leave I’d put his stuff at the curb. I’d use my lawyer making sure that I never saw him or any of his family again, I decided,
I found out my grandmother is petty. She made sure that he and his family suffered financial losses. She does love me.
250 words Bluesky: @sweetsheil.bsky.social
Holland answered the cottage door looking white as snow. She barely opened it enough for me to see her right eye, but the pallor of her skin stood out like 96-bright copy paper.
“Where’s the emergency?” I asked. “Your text said 911?”
“I didn’t know who else to call.”
Literally anyone. I wanted to be a smart ass, but the tremor in Holland’s voice stopped me.
“Babes, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Lola,” she whispered.
Holland pulled the door wide enough for me to slip inside and see.
“Oh, shit,” I whispered. My brain flickered, processing without comprehending.
Lola’s body draped all askew on the barely full-sized bed. Her head hung over the side, eyes closed. Uncomfortable, but peaceful, maybe, if not for the oddly bloodless hole piercing her left cheek and blowing out the right side of her head.
Huh.
How the fuck did that happen?
Should there be more blood?
Holland stubbed her toe against the foot of the bed. Lola didn’t budge, or suddenly sit up with a wacky grin and yell ‘surprise’ around the prominent holes in her face.
We both still flinched.
“Was it an accident?” Holland asked.
What kind of question— “Holls, there—there are holes in her face.”
“Right.” Holland’s breath hitched. “Duh.”
Maybe it was time for me to establish healthy boundaries. Stop answering texts in the middle of the night, or something.
“I—I found a gun.” Holland barely breathed the words, shoulders hunching. Scared. Defensive. Did it matter which?
Maybe.
Probably.
Fuck.
250 words of… something new?
#ThursThreads Week 725 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.