Week 467 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I’m honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale as we end 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 Nellie Batz 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
- Gora Shade | @AngoraShade
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Catherine Verdier | @CatheVerdier
- Mark A. Morris
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
Nellie says: You have to admire a woman who knows how to use pieces of her costume as a way to escape from unwanted attentions.
Week 467 Winner
Nellie says: I grew up reading Anne Rice and I have to admit, the idea of several vampire bands touring across the country would be fun to read about. What kind of rivalries could happen?
Jakob sipped at his pint. The O negative was at room temperature, the way he preferred it.
“It takes me back,” he said, listening for the crowd and knowing he wouldn’t hear it. “So many years, so many lives lost. Was it all for nothing?”
“You wanna be careful,” Shaun said. “You keep on like that; you’ll be walking into the light. And that would be a shame.”
They sat in silence, enjoying the mood. The cellar bar was where it had all started, the high of the shared adulation enough for them at first. The band travelled everywhere that first year, venturing across the channel, looking for new thrills. They became aesthetes, gourmands, gluttons; their audiences snowballing until the rapture began to plateau.
And then they did the residency at Tepes’ Vault in Wallachia.
They were a perfect fit. The Brooding Hearts had just released their second album, fans across Europe echoing the lyrics to Death in Harness, Bloodstain Spatter Analysis and And She Was a Goner; their eyes rolling back in their heads, their whites luminescing in the gloom.
It was such an incredible high. Everyone should have the chance to feel it for a while.
The in-house band there offered them a host of new opportunities. The Succubus Maids were a local group; six buxom blondes playing guitars. Their after-gig parties were legendary, their lead singer Elvira knowing no limits. She could charm every man who had drawn breath.
And almost all the ones who didn’t.
Congratulations TWENTY-TWO TIME WINNER Mark, and Honorable Mention David! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
And remember: Next week is our 9th Anniversary Event.
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! 🙂