Week 661 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 George Varhalmi 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
- Sheilagh Lee
- Kelly Heinen
- Mark A. Morris
- David A. Ludwig
- K.R. Van Horn
- Siobhan Muir
- Mark Ethridge
Honorable Mention
Kelly Heinen | Website
George says: Death, a few celestial horses and human. What could go wrong? This was a deeply funny tale. I could see Death’s skeletal hands and even it’s impatience with the tapping of their foot. It seems like the horses are smarter than Death and the human. The humor of the situation was excellent and right on spot with the flow of the tale. What a treat, thank you for the enjoyable tale it was nicely done.
winner announcement
Week 661 Winner
George says: Wow, I could feel the terror and fear that Aisling had at the beginning of the tale. The time it took her to turn on the light must have felt like an eternity and the first thing she sees is a large tome on the table. Questioning what and how it got there within moments, her terror returns when she was surprised by an unexpected visitor. This was a great tale setting up the scene, what happens next… Silver, thank you for the enjoyable tale.
Aisling peeked around the corner. The hallway remained empty. Darting to her office, she slipped the key into the lock, opened the door, and ducked inside, shutting the door behind her. She turned the lock. Her office had no windows and she stood, breathing hard, in absolute darkness.
She hated the dark, was afraid of it, but she couldn’t force her hand to the light switch. What was happening to her? She’d sat down in one place and stood up in another. She’d lost time. She feared she was losing her mind.
Now breathing normally, she flipped the light switch—and stared at a massive volume resting on the corner of her desk. The red leather cover, torn and faded, sported gilded letters in a language she’d never seen, yet seemed familiar. Focusing, she searched her memory. A name popped into her head. Tolkien. The words resembled the Elvish language he’d created for his books. Granted, the president was an Elf but that didn’t mean they’d ever released any of their literature into the human world. Or had they?
Close to hyperventilating, she muttered, “I don’t remember putting it there.”
“That’s because you didn’t.”
Aisling screamed, whirled and threw the book. She didn’t recall picking it up. The man standing in the corner of her office caught the tome easily and handed it back.
“You need to read it.”
“I don’t understand the language.”
He walked to the door, stepped out. “You will,” he promised, shutting the door behind him.
~~~~~~~
Congratulations SEVENTY-FOUR TIME WINNER, 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! 🙂
