Week 398 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I’m honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale as we start our eighth year. If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you. If you’ve just found us, welcome! May you come back again and write more great flash. Thousand thanks to Silver James for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc.
- Claire Davon | @ClaireDavon
- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Joe Hesch | @JAHesch
- Mark A. Morris
- David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
- Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila
- Kel J. Heinen | @Aightball
- M.T. Decker | @mishmhem
Silver says: First, a thanks to Siobhan for asking me to judge. It’s always a privilege and the writing is always amazing.
Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
Silver says: Bill Engleson’s sense of film noir gives this story a “Pulp Fiction” feel. Well written, complete story but hey, is there a sequel? Well done, Bill!
Joe Hesch | @JAHesch
Silver says: Memorable phrase: “…the spatter of Ed’s memories on his face…” Powerful imagery in this piece and the sense of desperation is palbable. Very well done, Joe!
Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
Silver says: Her pieces are always ineligible to win but she’s a talented writer and I want to give her SPECIAL RECOGNITION. I’m reading her entry and my brain is playing “dun-dun-DUN” music. Suspense. Trust issues. Geeky hero, kick-ass heroine. What’s not to love?
Week 398 Winner
Silver says: The world-building is succinct but places the reader “right there.” The characters are also succinct and fully formed giving the reader most of what they need to know in very few words. And finally, a sentient planet FTW!
Mac spat on the ground as he swore. Looking at the wreckage I could see why— the ship had been scythed in half. Acid had eaten through the cowling and at least half the electronics.
“What the hell did Dancer do to this thing?”
“She landed on 0213-78,” I answered as I pulled out the bucket and mopped up after Mac. I’d learned a long time ago that his spit tended to leave stains on the deck plating, and it was easier to clean up before it had a chance to set.
“What was it?”
“Class 2 planet, low atmo – possibly good for raw materials. He didn’t want to be used.”
“It didn’t want?”
“Yeah, sentient planet – said it didn’t want to be cut up for parts then did a number on the ship. Kept Dancer safe, out of respect and because he didn’t want to start a war.”
“He? Goddamned planet ‘an y’re calling it ‘He’”
“That was what the planet said,” I pointed out. I tend not to argue with large inanimate objects— Call it superstition – don’t provoke the place where you’re landing, especially when they can split a fuselage in half without blinking.
“Shit,” he growled spitting on the floor again, his smile daring me to say anything. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him he had— or maybe it was just common sense finally kicking in. I mopped up and made myself scarce. It was safer that way.
Congratulations Eight Time Winner Mary, and Honorable Mentions Bill and Joe! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
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