Week 625 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 more than 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 K.R. Van Horn 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
- Siobhan Muir
- Sheilagh Lee
- Joe Hesch
- Kelly Heinen
- Silver James
- Mark Ethridge
- David A. Ludwig
Honorable Mentions
Bill Engleson | Website
K.R. says: Shadowed captivates with its lush setting and quiet mystery. The Palapa’s warmth contrasts with the woman’s secrecy, creating tension. The most compelling line for me: “He had wanted to say how magical it was but that seemed too obvious.”
This restraint deepens the moment, making it more poignant. Then there’s the final exchange. His plea for honesty met with laughter leaves us questioning: amusement or deflection? The unanswered mystery lingers, making the story memorable
winner announcement
Week 653 Winner
K.R. says: Counting Steps is a masterclass in emotional depth and irony. The opening immediately grounds us in Bob’s struggle.
The interplay between Bob and Father Eddie is particularly compelling. Eddie’s confession — “The Lord knows it’s the thought that counts. Plus, I pray a lot. More than the job requires. Helps most of the time.” — carries quiet devastation. Then when Bob sees Eddie drinking in secret, the line “but he opened it anyway” becomes a gut punch, exposing addiction’s relentless pull.
And the ending. The final line is haunting, leaving us with a sense of shared defeat.
Counting Steps
“My name’s Bob and I’m an alcoholic.”
That’s how I address the group, all of us sitting in a circle. Been to lots of meetings, about six different groups. New one for each time I fell off the wagon.
“Hi, Bob,” they sing back, like I’m some priest and they’re my choir. Ironic, since we’re sitting in the basement of St. Vincent’s rectory. That’s the pastor over there. We went to school together.
I once asked how he squares staying clean while having to splash some vino into his chalice seven days a week. Not to mention his Saturday matinee and any funerals he presides over.
“The secret, Bobby, is tipping barely a drop from the cruet and then adding lots of water. The Lord knows it’s the thought that counts. Plus, I pray a lot. More than the job requires. Helps most of the time,” Padre Eddie said.
“Only most?”
“Still here each week, right?”
“God bless you, Eddie,” I said to the guy who bought my gateway quart of Hedrick’s.
“Praying for you, Bobby,” Eddie said. “Top of my Step 8 list of people I’ve wronged.”
“We’re all somewhere on the path. See you soon.”
Too soon.
From his sacristy doorway, next morning, I spied Eddie praying. He pulled a bottle from the vestry closet. I heard him say, “Lord, please,” but he opened it anyway and downed it to the shoulders.
On my way to the bar, I lost count the steps we tripped over that morning.
~~~~~~~
Congratulations Eight Time Winner Joe, and Honorable Mention Bill! 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! 🙂
