Week 437 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I’m honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale as we start our ninth year. If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you for sticking with us. If you’ve just found us, welcome! May you come back again and write more great flash. Thousand thanks to Louisa Bacio for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc.
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- M.T. Decker | @mishmhem
- Teresa Eccles | @TeresaMEccles
- Catherine Ducourau | @cathducourau
- David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Mark A. Morris
- Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila
Louisa says: So we meet again. Siobhan knows how much I enjoy some of the special, themed #ThursThreads #FlashFiction prompts, and this week proved to be just as much fun. Thank you for all the contributions. Happy Halloween,
Teresa Eccles | @TeresaMEccles
Louisa says: The active descriptions and word choice made this story stand out. The axe swinging, and the laughter “sliced in two.” Totally effective, and haunting.
Mark A. Morris
Louisa says: “This place was like home but without the softening of mercy.” Morris’ piece reminds me of the “Dark Tower” from horror writer Stephen King. As Bran slings that pack over his shoulder, I imagine the opening of an epic adventure. And my hell would most certainly be cold!
Week 437 Winner
Louisa says: Oooh, how I love me a fierce heroine in a standoff with bikers! Justice doesn’t disappoint, and I was intrigued and left wanting to read more, especially about that “favorite sheriff.” Good use of the prompt, and overall dialogue.
Justice stared down the two men. The bikers should have intimidated her. They didn’t. Between her military stint and working with a bunch of guys at the fire department, she was used to being the token woman. Until she proved herself. She didn’t back down. From anything or anyone.
“You need to get off my property.” Low, forceful voice. Eyes focused on the scruffy jerks. Hell Dogs. She wanted to roll her eyes. She’d encountered some real bikers back in June in the aftermath of the tornado. The Nightriders pretty much scared everybody spitless, but they and that SpecOp team riding with them rescued Pops, Elena, and the girl they’d fostered.
“Angel says he likes this place and wants it.” The larger of the two bikers smirked.
“My ranch isn’t for sale.”
“He don’t plan on buyin’ it, bitch. You need to clear out.”
“No.” Her fingers flexed on the Mossberg 12 gauge shotgun she held out of sight behind the porch post.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Not only no, but hell no. Now get off my property.”
The big one swaggered forward a few steps. Justice shifted just enough to lift the shotgun and pump it. She had six shells, a combo of heavy shot and slugs, and she never missed what she aimed at. The shorter biker’s head jerked and he turned to look toward the road. She caught the sound then. Sirens. She smiled. Her favorite sheriff was on his way.
Congratulations FORTY-FIVE TIME WINNER Silver, and Honorable Mentions Teresa and Mark! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
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