Week 660 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 Katheryn J. Avila 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
- Kelly Heinen
- Silver James
- Sheilagh Lee
- Siobhan Muir
- K.R. Van Horn
- David A. Ludwig
Honorable Mention
Kelly Heinen | Website
Katheryn says: Something about the parents’ reaction to their child’s enthusiasm of a questionable choice really hit home. The characters felt very real, and like this exact scenario could be playing out somewhere right now. The thought of a young, out of towner with dreams of success getting hit with the blunt force of small town paranoia makes for a great story!
winner announcement
Week 660 Winner
Katheryn says: The hints of the larger world, and the kind of philosophies around it really pulled me in and left me with questions. Why is wonder such a terrible thing? How do they impose and enforce the rigidity required to keep people from wondering at all? The narrator’s perspective shift and mind opening in real time was really well-executed. This was a really beautiful, thoughtful piece!
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨
No one used the top floor anymore, not since the ladders were declared unsafe.
They said the upper rooms were built on soft logic, faulty beams of intuition. Anyone who climbed too high came back speaking in symbols, sketching clouds that looked like feelings, and naming birds things like Couldbe and Almost. So the ladders were burned. The windows nailed shut. The blueprints redrawn with straighter lines.
Still, each night, a light flickers up there like a candle trying to recall an ancient sun.
I asked the Archivist once. He said the top rooms were where the mind used to wander freely, before the Great Narrowing. Before thoughts had to be filed and shelved beside the soup recipes.
“One thing was certain,” he added, polishing his glasses, “unchecked wonder always knocked over the inkpot.”
Last week, I found a bent nail in my pocket, warm as toast. I don’t remember putting it there.
Tonight, I climb.
Rung by rung, my body protests, too long trained to walk flat and think at right angles. At the top, the air smells like chalk and honey.
And there she is. The girl who disappeared during the last audit. She’s barefoot, wearing a crown of maybes, humming sideways laughter.
“You made it,” she beams. “They said no one could anymore.”
I nod. My thoughts dissolve like sugar in her smile.
There’s music in the walls like mice playing wine glasses with wet paws. And windows that open both ways if you ask them to.
~~~~~~~
Congratulations Seven Time Winner K.R., and Honorable Mention Kelly! 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! 🙂
