Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked and the second year of #ThursThreads flash fiction. So let's get started. It's Thursday again, and what should you be doing? Writing #flashfiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 75 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 75:
Human avatar of Ironhide, Assassin's Creed aficionado, and mining geologist, George Varhalmi.
So now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“I can do this.”
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! :)
Ric grinned. “I love the way your eyes spark with fire when your annoyed, the way you chew your lip when you think. You’re like no one I’ve met. So many different expressions.”
ReplyDeleteHeat burned her cheeks. He had an uncanny knack of knocking all thought from her brain.
“And the way your face gets red when you’re embarrassed.”
Ana smiled, in spite of herself. She knew she resembled a beet, even the tips of her ears were hot. “Stop that.”
He gave her hands a squeeze, getting to his feet. “It’s late. I’ll come by in the morning, and we can get started.”
Ana quirked a brow. “Get started with what?”
“Your training, of course. If we’re going to get into Cair Ti’anthe to get your boy, you’re going to need to know how to defend yourself. Desire is not enough. Steel is required.”
Training? Steel? A tremor of anticipation fluttered through Ana as she imagined herself swinging a broadsword like a knight of the realm. She giggled at the absurdity. No. I can do this. For Michael. She stiffened her shoulders. “I look forward to the lessons, teacher.”
Smiling, Ric headed for the door. “Get some rest. I’ll see you on the morrow, milady.”
Heat swirled in her stomach. She shook her head, and pushed the naughty thoughts from her mind. “Silver tongued rogue.”
Ric bowed grandly. “Indeed, my princess.” He stepped out of the cottage, closed the door behind him.
248 WIP Words
@bexbrennan
ReplyDelete“I can change the world,” I claimed.
“There are things that should never be changed,” Derek answered.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Admit it. You aren’t happy about this new ability.”
“I love you,” Derek answered.
“And I love you,” I answered.
“I can’t let you be unleashed on the world.”
“They sent you didn’t they?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure I can follow through.”
“Then join me.”
“I won’t become one of yours.”
“Derek, you’ll be my lieutenant and make the world a better place.”
“Calleigh, if I agree will you protect me from them?”
“Derek the government can’t harm me.”
Derek reached over to take me in his arms; before I knew it we were unclothed and horizontal in my bedroom. After what seemed like hours I got up and went to patch myself back together. My skin fell off in clumps. When I came back Derek was dressed.
“It’s time to become my lieutenant zombie,” I demanded.
“I can do this,” Derek replied.
Before I knew what had happened Derek pulled a sword out from under the bed and sliced at my head. My head cleaved off at the neck, but my spirit lingered and watched as Derek shed tears. I now stare out at them from my jar. I am not helpless; I have another ability they don’t know of. A doctor friend of mine has found me a fresh body to attach my head. Fear the zombie apocalypse, I sear into their brains and watch them scramble.
250 words
@SweetSheil
I listened as the president’s voice reached out to the throngs of Americans crowding around the capital building.
ReplyDelete“Let us never forget that there is no place in our government for those who would not serve the people.”
A cheer rose up as a group of wide-shoulder men in dark suits hauled a hooded man to the front of the platform.
The president pointed at the prisioner. “This man, a Senator, a servant of the people, has defied you. He has voted for his own purpose, his own financial gain, his own salacious desires, and for that he must now pay the price.”
He turned and waved me forward. “Here stands one of you. One who will rid us of this traitor and take his seat, and prove once again we are a government for the people, and by the people.”
He handed me the pistol and walked me to the giant red “X” marked with tape on the floor.
“Just aim in his general direction and shoot. The bullets have been programmed to find their target.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I can do this. Just point and shoot.
My hand shook as I took aim. The crowd roared and I could feel the president watching, smiling.
I squeezed the trigger. For a moment there was no sound, no light, no sensation of any kind.
Time whooshed in my ears and I heard his familiar voice once again.
“Ladies and Gentlemen…your new Senator.”
248 words
@RevolutionaryVJ
Lady Aislynn wove her fingers together and rested her hands on her desk. “He attended the club with another man on Friday night and that’s the last I saw of either of them.”
ReplyDelete“Another man? Who was this?” Nik leaned forward with interest.
“I don’t know him. He’s not a member of the Club, Mr. Wolffe. This was the first time I’d seen him on the premises.” She gave his brother an earnest stare.
Something in her voice around the word ‘club’ made him glance at Nik. Chayse scented concern and unease from his brother and suspicion grew in his gut.
“Do you have surveillance video of the public areas from that night?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll need to see any security footage from the last week.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, CSI Wolffe.”
Chayse shivered with her voice sliding over him. Get out of my head, bitch! “Why is that, Lady Aislynn?”
“Because this is a private establishment and several of the parties pay good money to be anonymous. I’m afraid you’ll need a warrant.”
Chayse’s stomach curdled. “This is a murder investigation—”
“For which you have no crime scene and until you can prove it was here, I will not have my patrons exposed to slander and ridicule.” Her face remained serene. “Come back when you have a warrant.”
Nik grunted thoughtfully while Chayse seethed. Secretive, evil wench. “I can do this, but it will take time and your club will remain closed until you agree."
247 ineligible #WIP500 words
@SiobhanMuir
Laurent waited until dusk had set in. He eyed the castle wall where her bedchamber was and gathered his courage. More fearful of scaling the wall than he was of the royal guard, Laurent edged his way through the shrubs and flower beds to a place directly beneath Ghislainne's balcony.
ReplyDelete"Laurent." Ghislainne's breath caught. She had waited expectantly all day. Unable to contain her excitement - or her nerves - she leaned forward to see her lover begin his ascent.
Laurent looked up at her. How lovely she was, her ivory colored silk robe open to reveal her dewy skin underneath and her ample breasts. Long, shapely legs peeked out from the flowing robe as she crossed to the balcony's right side, searching for signs of the castle guard.
As Laurent began the climb to her balcony, Ghislainne's anticipation grew. Tonight they would consummate their love. They planned this. Waited months. Never left alone long enough, the crown princess promised herself, and Laurent, that the first opportunity that presented itself would not be squandered. With the king and queen away, that opportunity had arrived this night.
Laurent reached Ghislainne's balcony. "Don't look down," he told himself.
"I can do this," he said, hoisting himself up and taking Ghislainne in his arms. They kissed passionately for several minutes, her robe falling from her shoulders to the floor. Laurent lifted her and carried her to the bed.
"Cut!" the director yelled. That's a rap.
248 words
Ryan Derham @Ryan_Derham
Annabel had just been through the hardest 6 months of her life. Her parents have been going through a very nasty divorce and she was the biggest problem…who was going to get custody of her.
ReplyDeleteShe didn’t know her parents could be that vindictive, at least she knew they loved her. Her mom was using the mother card…which usually works. However, her dad was trying to prove that her mom was unfit by saying that her work took up too much time and that Annabel would be home alone a lot.
With those kinds of allegations her mom turned to drastic measures. She dug up every skeleton her dad had from his past, including a long ago drinking problem and trouble with the law.
Annabel spent her time going back and forth to each home. She felt like a spy that hated his job. Her mom quizzed Annabel about her dad; and her dad drilled her about her mom.
Annabel was tired of it all and she knew that today was the last time she’d have to put up with it. After all she was 16 and her parents didn’t keep a close eye on her with everything going on.
She was standing on the porch of her old house, suitcases at her feet. The notes to her parents were in place. She took one last look around. The last thing she wrote in each letter was what she kept telling herself.
“I can do this.”
246 words
kaylee_mae13@yahoo.com
Sara held onto the railing with a white knuckled grip.
ReplyDelete"I can do this."
She had to. Too much was riding on her completing this challenge, and there was no way she was giving Lucinda the satisfaction of seeing her fail.
It was bad enough seeing her lycra clad skinny ass shimmy it over the rope bridge as though it was a catwalk. Even if Sara wasn't afraid of heights, she would never be able to emulate that shimmy. More like an undignified wobble of her over generous behind. She snorted in disgust and shut her eyes, willing her feet to move.
Warm, calloused fingertips traced her knuckles and the spicy musk of slightly sweaty male surrounded her as the instructor's arm came round her waist and pulled her back against his long, toned frame.
"Easy there, beautiful, I've got you. Just follow me."
Even his voice oozed sex-appeal and every feminine cell in Sara's body melted like butter in a pan. His breath feathered across her damp neck and Sara locked her knees to stop herself from sliding to the floor.
Turning her around in his arms, he walked her backwards, and it was only when her back hit the big oak tree, Sara realized that they had crossed the bridge.
Andreas towered over her, and butterflies invaded her tummy at the heated promise in his eyes.
Oh lordy, she'd done it now.
"That makes three. I claim my forfeit."
His firm lips descended and Sara tasted heaven.
250 words @mamaD8
Delusions of grandeur
ReplyDelete***
"I can do this" thought Nathanial while he drew in chi, feeling it swirling into his bones.
Now was the time.
Glancing around, he saw the grand hall was empty.
This wasn't right. Where was the Grand Magus?
Suddenly he became aware of a presence nearby. Over in the corner was an old man, dressed very simply in a plain brown tunic.
"Looking for someone?" asked the old man, grinning as his eyes turned red.
Fighting down the terror welling up inside him, Nathanial held his arms above his head as chi envelped his entire body, then in the blink of an eye he launched himself. Before he got within five feet of the man, he came to a complete stop, his body held in mid-air, chi drained away in an instant. Looking down at the old man, he saw a tiny speck of darkness formed in the space between his hands.
Voice paralysed with the rest of his body he screamed inwardly as his flesh was ripped from his bones; the sphere eviscerated him, rending him asunder. The darkness winked out of existence as the old man let his harms fall limply by his sides.
With a sigh, the Grand Magus invoked in his mind the image his man-servant. Within the space of a few heart-beats his was by his master’s side.
“Eadric, fetch me a jug of mead and a tankard, then summon the Sergeant-at-Arms to my chambers.”
Eadric disappeared.
***
@theimaginator20
242 words
No way in hell was Rose ever going to flirt with that man again. She marched around to the other side of the tent. The sooner they got out of this creepy desert the sooner she could leave the jerk on a curb. She couldn’t careless which curb as long as Duncan was soon in her rearview mirror.
ReplyDeleteHer fingers gripped along the stake and she yanked. Pain seared along her palms. The damn thing felt like it was bound in cement. With a tighter hold she pulled and yelled out.
“Do you want some help?”
“No.” She swiped at her brow. He’d already tackled the other stakes and still looked fresh and as gorgeous as he did last night. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can do this.”
“And I can help.” He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms over hers. “I want to help.”
“I don’t need any more of your help.” Her face heated.
The stake gave way and she lost her balance. Stumbling over his feet, they both went down. Her head lay on his chest and his arms held her steady. Comfort and warmth invaded her body. She took in a slow breath and pushed.
“Let me go.”
“Let me hold you. You’re probably still drunk.”
“For the last time, I was not drunk and I’m not twenty two anymore. I can handle a couple of drinks.”
He brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Why are you always in such a rush?”
250 words
@SJMaylee
Ignoring the steaming corpses littering the alley, Varad felt like freaking Hansel—only the birdies obliterating this particular trail of breadcrumbs were vultures and he wasn't hunting an old witch. He smelled blood, tasted the coppery sharpness of it around the shallow drags he pulled on his cigarette. His Gretel waited at the entrance. Sade Marquis. FBI agent. Dead sexy. She racked a new magazine in her 9mm, the metallic sound echoing. He'd already reloaded his specially modified .44 Mag. If six rounds of HE didn't take down their targets, they were dog food anyway.
ReplyDeleteHe muttered, “Roman, you owe me big time, brother!”
He was only here because of his blood debt to Roman. Hunting rogue gargoyles was a pain in the ass. Literally. He rolled his head on his neck, vertebrae grinding like ancient granite. This whole fiasco had been the Fed's idea. A grating sound brought his head up. One idiot rogue tried to sneak up on Sade. Varad raised the Mag, squeezed. Acrid smoke from his cigarette danced with the fog crawling across the docks as powdered granite swirled and settled, just so much dust in the wind.
The bitch Fed glared. “I can do this. Alone.”
“Like hell. Roman’ll take my head if you get hurt.”
“I need one alive.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” A bullet whistled past his ear, ricocheted. He whirled but before he could fire, the gargoyle behind him disintegrated.
Sade smirked and holstered her weapon. “Or not.”
247 words I have no idea where to put in the WIP
@SilverJames_
The Ass
ReplyDelete“A hundred yard dash? Pffft! No trouble.” I looked at Kitty but didn’t need to see the way her brows shot up to her hairline to know she was embarassed.
Kitty looked away, then back at me, her expression a troubling blend of incredulity and dismay. “What the hell are you thinking? It’s not like you’re built to run dashes. Maybe a quick dash to the fridge to grab a beer, but your days of running are in the rearview mirror!”
“I can do this. I ran track in high school, you know.”
“High school?” Kitty,nearly choked on her potato salad. “High school was seventy-five pounds ago.”
I blurted, “You know, instead of making fun of me, you could be a supportive wife.” She rolled her eyes like she is so superior.
“A supportive widow, maybe. When you keel over with a major coronary.”
Stu, from accounts receivable, came my way. “Races are starting. Thanks, buddy. You really bailed us out of a spot, stepping up to represent IT. Company picnics, always such a trainwreck.”
I glanced at Kitty as I stood. “I can do this. I know how to run—won’t be beat.”
Kitty shook her head. “Getting beaten will be the least of your humiliation today.”
I winked at her. “My daddy always said it takes a bad set of legs to let a perfectly good ass take a beating.”
As I lumbered away I heard Kitty say, “Your daddy had the ass part right.”
247 words @teresa_cypher
I stood in the back door, looking out over our painted porch. The porch is slick and no matter what I do, I’m going to fall.
ReplyDelete“Come on, Jim.” My husband, Jacoby, said, coming up behind me. He looked at me as I backed up to let him go first. He looked outside, back to me, and then nodded.
“I’ll help ya.”
I put my crutches down and then carefully hopped. The biting winter wind snapped around my face, and I adjusted my scarf.
“I can do this.” Personal pep talks always work, right?
I moved forward slowly, aware that Jacoby was right next to me. My husband watched the path ahead of me.
“Hold up, I don’t want you going down these stairs. Stay here.”
Shivering a bit, despite my warm coat, I nodded. I watched as he scooped the small sidewalk to the garage. Finally he backed his truck out and then drove up to the porch. There were steps on two sides, but he was parked where there were no steps. His truck sat just high enough that I didn’t have to flop down.
“That’s awesome,” I told him, maneuvering my rigidly-casted leg into the cab. The heat was blasting.
“No problem. I’ll have to figure out how to get you out that way, but we’ll worry about that when we get home.” He turned around in our yard.
I don’t want to know hard that’s going to be to re-seed this spring.
246 words
@Aightball
INSURRECTION
ReplyDeleteSephe eyed the bare man tethered before her. “You are the one they call Rathcrow, Barbarian King of the Southlands?”
The prisoner lunged forward and spat on her feet.
Her guard raised his whip but she intervened. “No, Thoca, I can do this another way if your men secure him.”
His struggle was eclipsed by the weight of a dozen guards.
When he was subdued, she trailed a finger along his sleek ribs, pausing over a rough spot. “Yes, here is the proof. These broken bones bear witness to your identity. If I free you and dismiss my retinue, need I fear reprisal?”
His cold eyes appraised her and he shook his head.
She ordered the shackles removed, sent the guards from the room, and handed him a fine linen tunic. “I come in the name of Theron, with orders to restore you to the throne.”
“And how will you do that when my kingdom and my sovereignty lay in ashes?”
Her stomach lurched as she knelt before him. “By pledging my alliances to you.”
He tipped her chin so they were eye to eye. “How far will you go in betraying your father’s ancestors?”
“That depends on whether you claim my sword or my womb.”
He bent, used the tunic hem to wipe his saliva from her feet, and held out his hand. “A woman who understands the intricacies of politics and appreciates the duality of swordplay will make a worthy consort.”
- - - - -
243 words / @bullishink
#ThursThreads is CLOSED. Thank you to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. :)
ReplyDelete