Thursday, April 18, 2013

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 67


Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked, and #ThursThreads, the Challenge that Ties Tales Together. Let's get started. It's Thursday again, so what should you be doing? Writing #flashfiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 67 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Need the rules? Read on!

Here's how it works:
  • The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.
  • The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
Rules to the Game:
  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • Incorporate the prompt as written anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
  • Post your story in the comments section of this post
  • Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 7 PM Pacific Time
  • The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up. ;)
How it benefits you:
  • You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)
  • You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
  • Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus

Our Judge for Week 67:

The cat lover, winch operator, and Rune stones reader, Miranda Kate.

So now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“Not even once.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck! :)


  1. She had never considered escape, not even once. From the paddock she could see the killing fields, watch a Basilisk or Manticore sweep through the plain to catch prey, prey like her. The escapees, the culled, were always far enough away that she didn’t have to watch them killed, but she knew, if ever she stopped producing children, stopped being docile, or tried to escape, she would be on the field.
    Never, not in her wildest dreams, could she have imagined someone like Cob. He not only considered escape, he was planning it, very carefully. She didn’t help him, not like Mer or Sar or his other cows.
    “Lee?” Cob asked, approaching her. He was still her bull and she carried his child, but she didn’t seek his company.
    “I worry for you,” she said. “One day, Tia will discover you and I will be given to a new bull.”
    Cob squatted next to where she sat, her belly large. “Don’t worry,” he told her, stroking her hair. “One day, we will all escape.”
    “There is some hair on that bench,” she said, pointing. She wanted him to go away and he would hurry to seize his prize.
    He didn’t rush, that would draw Tia’s attention. Looking at the bench, he turned back and kissed Lee on the forehead. “I haven’t been caught, Lee. I am careful.” Hugging her shoulders one last time, he rose and walked slowly to the bench, tucking the hair away.
    245 words
    Four Winds

  2. The following afternoon, Sandra arrived at the building, a high rise glass affair in an upmarket part of town. She’d made the appointment to see Charles after she’d done an internet search to find out whether he really did have money as he’d claimed. Turned out he’d inherited land and money, but was also a wealthy entrepreneur in his own right.

    She didn’t have to wait long in reception; minutes after Charles had been advised of her arrival he walked out of his office with his coat on his arm, giving some brief instructions to the PA as they left. They got into a big, shiny, expensive looking black car which pulled up outside the front of the building, and Charles told the driver to take them to the estate.

    They soon left the city behind, and were cruising through the countryside. Throughout the journey, Charles sat reading and typing on a laptop. He didn’t talk with Sandra the entire time, didn’t even glance at her – not even once. The sun was setting when he finally folded his laptop shut and turned towards her.

    “Sorry that took so long, I didn’t mean to be rude; urgent business.” he said, smiling.

    “Ok. Now, how much are you paying me and what for?”

    “Ah, straight to business – great! I’ll pay you your yearly salary up front, for starters. I need you to perfect a nested ritual – purification, scrying, bonding, ingress, and palingenesis.”

    “Palingenesis? For what?”

    “So we manifest in the Shrouded City.”

    1. Bah! Forgot
      250 words

  3. My Dad looked at me, handing my 10 day old son to me, “Woah, this fella’s a little ripe!”

    I took my son from Dad, “Ripe?”

    My wife, Deborah, sitting on the sofa in her house robe, next to my mother, explained, “He pooped in his Pamper, dear.”

    I stammered, “Oh! Ripe!”

    Dad looked at Deborah, “Lemme guess, he ain’t changed the baby yet.”

    She nodded, “Not even once.”

    “There ain’t no time like the present!” he announced, heading toward the baby’s room.

    Deborah motioned me to follow Dad. Mom was laughing. “I’m gonna like bein’ a gran’ ma!”

    Dad stood me next to the changing table. “Put the little fella down.” I did. He handed me a clean Pamper, the baby wipes, and a little blue plastic bag. “Take off the old one, put it in the bag, clean him up with the wipes, put the wipes in the bag too, then put him in a clean one.”

    I set the wipes down, opened up the blue bag, and pulled the tape straps on his Pamper. “Holy shit!”

    Dad laughed, “Yep. That’s what it is.”

    “It’s green!” Dad just nodded, “Like, like…”

    “Baby shit,” Dad finished my sentence for me.

    He talked me through the changing process, then he told me, “Do this every night before you put him to bed. It stinks. But it’ll show her how much you love her.”

    When we returned to the family room, Dad declared, “Now he’s a real man!”

    @247 Words

  4. Love participating in these :)

    He held a miracle in his arms. The honey colored baby boy with an abundance of dark hair, and his mother’s full lips was everything he’d dreamed of, yet never thought he’d have. Stroking a finger down his son’s petal soft skin he peered over at his wife. A whirlwind romance, their love hit him like lightning, jump starting his broken heart, and pulling him from the darkness he’d descended into. Holding the bundle in the blue blanket to his chest he rocked he patted his back. Kansas’s eyes drifted open and she offered up a sleepy smile.
    “Hi, how are you feeling?”
    They spoke in whispered tones, careful not to disturb their sleeping prince.
    “Not too bad shockingly.” She shook her head. “It’s amazing how everything I never wanted is now my source of true happiness for the first time in my life. You ever wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gone to that convention?”
    “Not even once.”

  5. Mariella's flaming red hair and pale skin betrayed her in the moonlit marsh. Roan lost his footing more than once, but she was still within his reach, so close he could sense her fear - and her arousal.

    Perhaps they were one and the same to her, Roan thought. He could only guess at her true nature, but not even once did he suspect she was not human.

    Mariella lay in the damp marsh, naked and quivering, her pale thighs parted in invitation, the fear in her grey eyes replaced or masked by lust.

    Roan sank to his knees between her long, outstretched legs and lost himself in the scent of her moist sex.

    [Word count: 113]

    @Ryan_Derham on Twitter

  6. ID Please.

    “You must have been tagged at some point ma’am. It’s standard procedure.” The clerk was looking at me like I’d spawned two new heads.
    “I’m telling you I’ve never been here before. I live out there.” I waved back towards the the line of jagged red rock that rose up out of the shattered ground, marking the beginning of the Dead Zone.
    “No one lives out there. So please stop being difficult and tell me where you were last assigned living quarters and let me scan your tag.”
    “Son, I’m telling you, I’ve never been tagged. Never been to a Fort until today.” Fortified Areas they called them. I called ‘em prisons. The walls and gates might keep the danger out, but they kept the living firmly trapped under the government’s boot heel. I had my share of prison in the before times, I had no desire to go back. But Jessica needed me, so here I was, arguing with an idiot to try to gain entry to a place I had no desire to be.
    “You’ve never been to a Fortified Area?”
    “Not even once.” I grinned and tugged at my white hair. “Thought I should probably do it once before I die, check it off the bucket list.”
    “Uh…right.” Kid had no idea what a bucket list was. He’d been born after the Cataclysm, all he’d know is what the government funded schools had spoon fed into head. It was going to be a long, damned day.

    249 words

  7. Posted for Doris O'Connor (because I'm click happy on my mouse :P)

    "You have got to be kidding me. You really never have? Not even once? How is that even possible?"

    Maria looked so offended on Anastasia's behalf that she had to giggle. She shrugged her shoulders and flashed her friend a quick smile.

    "It's not a big deal."

    "Not a big deal?" Maria almost shouted, and Anastasia wanted the ground to swallow her up.

    "Of course it is. Someone as gorgeous as you deserves to have tons of screaming orgasms, and I'm not talking about the drink." She gestured to their cocktails and smirked. "And I know just the men to do it, too. Carter? Jake? Get over here. I know you want to."

    "Maria." Anastasia's whispered protest fell on deaf ears.

    The drop dead gorgeous duo at the next table, who had been taking a far too intimate interest in their conversation smiled at Anastasia, and her cheeks heated under the full force of their heavy lidded gaze. It was doing strange things to her equilibrium, and she grabbed the counter for support, when they both rose and sauntered towards them.

    She barely heard Maria's introductions, because the men stepped either side of her. Caged in between the two finest specimen of hunk she had ever seen, her heart went into overdrive, when the taller one bent down and traced a finger along her jawline. He tipped her head up to make her look at him, and she lost herself in his wicked smile.

    "We'll take it from here, sis."

    250 words

  8. Insatiable

    Kieran stood in the shadows, above the streets as darkness swamped the city bringing with it a dense, creeping fog. This was the time filled with murderous intent causing grim violence among the unsuspecting innocent. He watched, ready to intercept. It wouldn't be long before a victim made himself or herself willing to the predator that needed to feed the urge, sustain the feeling of power and by doing so accept who he was.

    It was harder now than in the earlier days as the gruesome remains reminded people that night time was no time to be wandering the city. The gas lighting provided little light and gave the fog an eerie glow as it lay heavy like a blanket to protect the monster who unleashed such brutality without conscience.

    Kieran’s senses were alerted. He watched closely, peering through the fog, his hearing picking out the footsteps; a drunk stumbling home after spending all his wages in the local inn, reeking of gin. A prime target on such a night for the inhuman predator.

    There was no time to scream as the drunk hit the pavement with such force, his head split like a ripe melon; the limpness making the job easier as the predator devoured, trying to feed his insatiable appetite, not even once entertaining the thought of capture.

    It was over in seconds. Kieran wiped his mouth and with one spring was back on the roof tops waiting for his next victim to wander into his path.

    249 (excluding title) by Lizzie Koch


  9. Not Guilty

    Suzanne forced herself to take in her new client. It was the way he eyed her . She was a prime rib dinner; he, a starving man. Suzanne shuddered as he licked his lips. She wasn’t sure if was pleasure or revulsion.

    “Daniel Baker,” she began. “As your attorney I will defend you to the best of my ability. However, you’ve got to tell me if you’re truly guilty this time.”

    “Ms. Delta, may I call you Suzanne? Would you like to have breakfast with me?”

    “It’s four in the afternoon.”

    “So? I’m sure we can occupy ourselves until sunrise.”

    “Mr. Baker, please,” Suzanne hissed. “I’m serious.”

    “So am I.” Suzanne’s eyes looked to his. He licked his lips again and leaned forward. He reached out a hand, cuffs jingling, to trace a finger along her arm. “I make a great omelette.”

    Suzanne moved her hand away a few seconds too late. He knew that she fell for his charm. “Fine,” she said slowly. “Then tell me the truth. Did you do it? Have you either this time or ever in the past stolen money?”

    “Not even once,” he replied with a sly smile.

    “Can you prove it?”


    “Then why have you been arrested and charged thirteen times?”

    “I’ve been trying to get you as my lawyer. Know how hard it is to find your number?”

    Suzanne snorted. “Fine. You give me unshakeable proof? I’ll not only get you off the hook but I’ll bring the orange juice.”


    250 Words

  10. I stood at the window, watching the chaos below from the second-story window of a brothel.

    “My father would roll over in his grave if he knew I’d let you bring me here, my Lord.”

    “It is the last place they’d expect to find you, which makes it the perfect place for us to hide.” He checked the locks on the door. “We’ll wait a few hours, then ride for Munmiras”

    He joined me at the window, his eyes scanning the streets for any cause for alarm. I wanted to trust him, trust his instincts, as my father had. The world knew no better swordsman. And he was rumored to have vanquished as many ladies as he had enemies. I shivered as I thought of the stories that had circulated around court.

    “You need a drink,” he said, removing his coat and wrapping it around my shoulders. The smell of damp wool and horses surrounded me.

    “I never drink,” I said, turning to face him. “My father never allowed it.

    He laughed as he lifted a bottle from the corner cabinet and filled two cups. “You’ve never had a drink? Not even once?”

    I shook my head.

    “Well this is as good a time as any for your first. Drink up highness, and pray we make it to morning.”

    I hesitated, then accepted his offering and drained it dry.

    He laughed again and pointed to the bed. “Get some sleep, you’ll need it. We’ve a long night ahead of us.”

    250 words

  11. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. :)


Comments are on moderation, so they'll become visible once I've read them. Words, words, words. I love them. Have you a few to lend?

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.