Week 575 of #ThursThreads, and y’all never disappoint. We’ve made it 11 years! Well done and thank you to everyone who writes each week. You made this happen. If you’ve just found us, welcome to the crew! You’re in good company. May you come back again and write more great flash. A thousand thanks to Miranda Kate 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
- Silver James
- Mark A. Morris
- Mark Ethridge
- David A. Ludwig
- Siobhan Muir
- Atticus Stryker
- Daelyn Morgana
- M.T. Decker
Miranda says: A thrilling piece of flash that makes me want to know more.
Miranda says: I wanted to know more about the adventure about the characters. Great stuff.
Week 575 Winner
Miranda says: I loved the idea of this, of Death being all those faces and people and then the ending, wrapping it up nicely and complete. Great piece of flash.
Death looked better wearing a cloak. It disguised her lack of muscles and flesh; the accoutrements all but the most fashionable possessed as a matter of course. She could have stood in as a model on any catwalk, her loose-limbed gait giving her the inimitable swagger few could ever hope to match. She had appeared on premier magazine covers thousands of times, either credited as Maudlin Morte, Esme Ins or dozens of others, her racial ambiguity finding her work everywhere. There was nowhere she couldn’t be found if you kept your eyes open.
But avoiding her was almost impossible. She could locate anyone when it was their time.
Today, she was in Paris. She recognised the man selling crepes on the Champs Elysees, his harried look making him appear older than his passport would claim. His was a fresh face on a busy thoroughfare packed with foreign tourists, their noise and bustle drowning out any but the most direct and earnest conversations.
“Excuse me,” she said. Then she added, “S’il vous plait,” as an afterthought to sweeten her approach. She was charming on almost every occasion: well used to giving as much as she took away. She had a casual, practised demeanour and a smile few would ever forget.
“American?” It was a statement, as much as a question, but it was also the last thing he’d say. He’d never see the motorcycle that swerved suddenly to avoid the police car, although he’d hear the siren and turn that way.
Congratulations THIRTY-FIVE TIME WINNER Mark, and Honorable Mentions Daelyn and David! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
Pass on the great news on Mastodon, Facebook, MeWe, Bluesky Social, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂