Week 511 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. What an amazing feat we’ve pulled off. Nine years! If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you for coming back each week. If you’ve just found us, welcome! You’re in good company. May you come back again and write more great flash. A thousand thanks to George Varhalmi for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc.
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Eric Martell | @drmag00
- Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears
- David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Louisa Bacio | @Louisabacio
- M.T. Decker | @mishmhem
- Joel Sandersen | @Whirlwindsof
Louisa Bacio | @Louisabacio
George says: I really liked the story. I found it to be a sweet tale the whole way through. She had this warm nostalgia throughout the tale.
Silver James | @SilverJames_
George says: MREs vs ORPs – yummy. I thought the discussion was hilarious and the back and forth made me grin. It was fun.
Joel Sandersen | @Whirlwindsof
George says: Go panthers! I found this story great because the hunter was a sick SOB. And I liked that Jake gave him the choice – face the fire or Misty. Great tale.
Week 511 Winner
George says: It was damn funny. I liked all of it. The fact that he has to go through and it is what it is, he has to die and die a lot. The best line “Can’t outsource the work”. Made me laugh out loud and scared the cat.
I can’t decide how to die this time. I’ve done all the common ones – getting hit by a car, jumping off a building, contracting Ebola. I’ve done exotic ones – suicide by cop, becoming an astronaut and then opening my helmet during a spacewalk, bringing a dish to a KKK meeting and then telling everyone a Black man had jerked off into it.
No, this isn’t some Groundhog Day thing where the universe is teaching me a lesson in becoming a better person. For one thing, I’m already dead.
I guess that needs some clarification. My body is dead. I lived ninety-seven years and passed away peacefully in my bed, surrounded by people who said they loved me and all the luxuries a man could want.
My soul, on the other hand, lives on until I complete my task. We all owe a death, this is true, but I owe millions. I didn’t kill all 8 million individually – not even I had that kind of time – but I did my share. After all, if I expected my staff to get their hands bloody, then I had to as well. Besides, I enjoyed it.
So here I am, forced to die one time for each of the 8 million I was responsible for. And this time, I can’t outsource any of the work.
Maybe I’ll see if the alligators at the zoo are hungry.
Congratulations Fifteen Time Winner Eric, and Honorable Mentions Louisa, Silver, and Joel! 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! 🙂