Week 439 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 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.
- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Catherine Ducourau | @cathducourau
- Mark A. Morris
- T.L. Reeve | @tl_reeve
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Eric Martell | @drmag00
- Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
Silver says: I don’t know why I volunteer to judge #ThursThreads because the quality of the writing always makes picking and choosing so freaking hard! On the other hand, I get to use the prompt and I don’t have to stop at 250 words. Anyway. Congratulations to everyone who entered. The quality and diversity of the various tales is amazing. I was thoroughly entertained by each and every one and I waffled back and forth, forth and back and considered just throwing darts. Alas, Siobhan is a harsh taskmaster and I can only choose one winner and two honorable mentions. So I did. And no darts were injured (or involved) in the picking of the winnters.
Mark A. Morris
Silver says: For all the feels! I was sniffling by the end. Evoking that much emotion in 250 words takes a good story and talent. Mark provided both! I loved this sweet little tale.
Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
Silver says: For an odd tale that me sit back and go “WTF?” No clue where it was headed. This was both humor and serious thoughts to ponder. A great blend.
Week 439 Winner
Silver says: Bill’s use of descriptive language and imagery set up this “detective noir” perfectly. I was drawn in from the first sentence and enjoyed every sentence after. Well done!
Turn of the Screwy Death
For some reason I expected chiffon.
Classic male boudoir thinking, eh.
My predictability was shameless.
Mona Monterey fooled me. She was squeezed into a stylish business suit, white, or light cream.
She would look terrific in my coffee.
Her hair, red as my first ever kindergarten crayon, glistened.
“Come in,” she bid.
I was pure putty.
There are penthouses and then there are…penthouses.
The windows were floor to ceiling, the furniture so modern, it seemed retro.
I took an offered seat. And an offered brandy.
If she was in mourning, you’d need a microscope to notice.
I decided to be transparent. “The police resent people like me stepping on their toes.”
“Is that what you do? Step on toes?”
“Only when I’m dancing.”
She almost smiled at that but simply sipped her brandy.
I followed suit.
Then she said, “I’m surprised you’re willing to work for me. Irv’s…wife…can’t have painted a pretty picture of me.”
I opted for mute. The last thing I wanted was to be caught in the middle of a one-feline cat fight.
“Oh, please, be a big boy. Tell me. What did she say to you about me?”
“Here’s a big boy pronouncement,” I answered. “If you want me to find out who killed your mother, then, good. Anything else…spell it out.”
“Okay,” she breathed deeply, “Keep your little secrets. I loved Helen. So, find the worm who snuffed my mom.”
Halleluiah, I thought. A tough talking woman who gets me.
Congratulations TWENTY-SEVEN TIME WINNER Bill, and Honorable Mentions Mark and Kelly! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, MeWe, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂