Week 446 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I’m honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale as we head toward the end of 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 David Ludwig 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
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Karen Carr | @KileAuthor
- Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
- David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears
- Louisa Bacio | @Lousiabacio
David says: There was a lot of great dialogue and immersive scenes making this week a joy to read, and definitely something I needed to see. Tremendous thanks to everyone who participated, and to our generous host.
Louisa Bacio | @Louisabacio
David says: The characters really made this one for me, from the impressively unimpressive guard to the resourceful Natalie. And I particularly loved the line “Her patience stretched as thin as his hairline.”
Week 446 Winner
David says: Distinct compelling voice is a major strength I’ve observed in your writing. This week particularly blew me away with the tight artistry of your execution, like the clever wordplay of Mona weeping Waters’ name. Strong imagery throughout riveted my attention as well, including Mona shriveling “like a piece of burnt plastic”. There still seem to be plenty more twists and excitement coming in this compelling detective story!
Answering Death’s Door
The pounding on the Penthouse’s door didn’t let up.
And there was no escape hatch.
And I didn’t have a gun.
“I’ll get that,” I said.
Chivalry, or stupidity, wasn’t dead.
“No, don’t,” she screamed.
“Do you know who it is?” I asked quickly.
“Waters,” she wept.
I froze for a second, my hand on the doorknob. “We will bring him up to speed, whatever that is,” I tossed out in my panic, her panic.
“He’ll only run us over,” she spat out. “That’s the only speed he cares about.”
Suddenly, my hand jerked the lever and opened Mona’s door.
A smiling Wick Waters filled the open frame.
“Well, Peeper. How cozy. “
Waters didn’t wait to be asked in. He barged pass me yelling, “Mona, my condolences.”
I glanced at Mona on the sofa.
She’d shrivelled up like a piece of burnt plastic.
But not before she retrieved a small pistol from under the sofa cushion and fired three times.
Waters fell to the floor like an overweight bridge suicide, blood gushing all over the white carpet.
Mona’s hand clung to the weapon like a bathtub safety bar.
Me, I froze once again.
I then stepped out of the potential line of fire.
As I did, the pistol followed me.
I had no idea what was percolating in her murderous brain.
All I was thinking was…keep the mask on, safely distance, don’t get shot, and…it’s definitely the right time to maybe write up my bucket list.
Congratulations TWENTY-EIGHT TIME WINNER Bill, and Honorable Mentions Louisa! 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! 🙂