Week 643 of #ThursThreads was a success, and y’all never disappoint. Thank you to everyone who writes each week. You are why we’re still doing this, and why we’ve made it 12 YEARS!
If you’ve just found us, welcome to the crew! May you come back again and write more great flash. A thousand thanks to David A. Ludwig for judging this week. Follow Siobhan Muir on Bluesky or check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc.
Entries:
- Bill Engleson
- Silver James
- Joe Hesch
- Kelly Heinen
- Siobhan Muir
- Mark A. Morris
- Mark Ethridge
- David A. Ludwig
- Eric Martell
- K.R. Van Horn
Honorable Mentions
Silver James | Website
David says: I particularly enjoyed the framing and pacing of this one. The more times I read it, the more I appreciated the nuance of when they were talking around The Topic, and when they were addressing it.
Mark A. Morris | Website
David says: There was some strong imagery this week, but this one particularly stood out for me. The “hands fluttering like doves” was exquisite.
winner announcement
Week 643 Winner
David says: This flash, and particularly the character of Beatrice, stuck in my mind the most when it came time to sleep on the decision. From her dialogue to the masterfully spaced descriptions of her, I felt like I was there in the room. The contrast with the narrator and his apprentice was a pleasure to read. And, of course, the last line wraps it up brilliantly
Beatrice is angry. Her glare suggests I should do as she insists. Or die. It’s a death glare with instructions.
My apprentice steps forward, clipboard in hand..
“I am not meant to be…down here,” Beatrice whispers.
Most people say that, but here they are. My apprentice runs a finger down the list. She hands her a paper and gestures with her pen.
“Please take this paper and go to the left.”
Beatrice gives my apprentice a death glare. “I’m in the wrong place.”
“To the left please, you’re holding up the line.”
My apprentice has a backbone. Beatrice’s petite hands slam the desk. Spittle flies from her perfectly red-lipsticked lips as she makes her point known.
“I said I’m. In. The. Wrong. Place.”
“To the left.”
“When I did my job, I was perfect. You are–”
Beatrice shifts her glare as I step forward.
“Were you, your first time? Perfect?”
Her hands plant on her hips and she shifts her weight to one leg, the bell of her pink slacks swaying. I shove her to the side and she stumbles, her three inch heels turning her ankles in opposite directions.
“How dare you!” she seethes, gripping the desk to regain her balance. “I will be rerouted to Heaven at once!”
I’ve had enough. I pull Beatrice into the correct line making sure that paper won’t leave her hand until it should. If she was like this alive, her husband is probably relieved he doesn’t have to spend eternity with her.
~~~~~~~
Congratulations TWENTY-SIX TIME WINNER Kelly, and Honorable Mentions Silver, and Mark! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
Pass on the great news on Facebook, MeWe, Bluesky, Mastodon, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂
