Week 713 of #ThursThreads was a success, a remarkable feat for 13 solid years. Thank you to everyone who writes each week. You are why we’re still doing this. I’m truly grateful for all y’all!
If you’ve just found us, welcome to the crew! May you come back again and write more great flash. A thousand thanks to Miranda Kate for judging this week. Follow Siobhan Muir on Bluesky or check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads group on Discord to keep up with news, etc.
Entries:
- Bill Engleson
- Silver James
- David A. Ludwig
- Nellie Batz
Mentions
Silver James
Miranda says: I wanted to like this, but I was confused about who was who, with so many characters mentioned, and I couldn’t fully grasp what they were talking about. It felt like I had opened a book and just read a snippet of a much larger story.
David A. Ludwig
Miranda says: A hint of a much larger story. I liked the concepts, but I was left wanting to know more about the metal rectangle and how it might be used. What were the powers he had and where was the girl from?
Nellie Batz
Miranda says: I liked this. I was interested to know more about the meeting, and the relationship between these characters, but there wasn’t enough here for me to feel like I grasped what was really going on.
winner announcement
Week 713 Winner
Miranda says: Ha! A woman after my own heart. It’s called Padel over here in Holland, and I also feel it’s like a cheaper version of tennis for people that want to play a tennis without the skill, so this story spoke to me! Nice complete story, with a noir edge.
A Courtly Demise
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a sports case. Jocks are depressing people. They spend every waking hour worshipping their bodies. However, business was slow and Missy Berk, the trim, middle-aged maven with ruby lips and a Garbo sound was offering hefty coin to have a look at her issue. I was in a generous mood, I admit, and slightly smitten.
Missy laid out the issue. Three weeks earlier, Mac Henshap, President of the Hazelnut Tennis Club, had suddenly keeled over at Match Point 40/love. A heart attack, it was supposed.
Missy thought otherwise. “Our club has doubled its membership in the past year, with…infiltrators.”
“Infiltrators?”
“Pickleball ruffians. A tiresome breed of wannabees. I’m afraid it’s a hostile takeover. Mac, dear Mac, stood in their way. In fact, he’d called a special meeting of the membership to tighten up our by-laws.”
“And the heart attack? Did the police get involved?”
She looked a tad downcast, said, “Mac wasn’t a spring chicken. Eighty -six. Feisty old rooster though. But no…”
I didn’t know anything about tennis other than that some players, men and women, grunt quite a lot. Pickleball was even further outside my experience. “So, this Pickleball subterfuge…you think its an organized effort to take over your club?”
She nodded.
I could feel my bank account being infiltrated by a giant money tree.
“Could take a while,” I said. “Cost quite a bit.”
“Pickleball’s a disease,” Missy said.
“Consider me a disease vaccine,” I smiled.
~~~~~~~
Congratulations FORTY-EIGHT TIME WINNER Bill, and Mentions Silver, David, and Nellie! 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! 🙂
