Thursday, December 15, 2011

#ThursThreads Debuts - The Challenge that Ties Tales Together - Week One

Welcome to Week One of #ThursThreads!

It's Thursday, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! And have I got the challenge for you.

Here's how it works:
  • The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale (for this first week, I'll supply the line from one of my winning tales).
  • 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 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 +
So let's get to this thing, right? Okay then!

Our Judge for Week One:

The ever gorgeous, color coordinated, Sci-Fi Sensualist Cara Michaels.

And now your #ThursThreads challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

"Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings."

Away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThread. Good luck! :)


  1. He stood on the roof taking in the glowing view as the sun rose over the downtown skyline. The woman vexed him. She definitely was not his type but he found that he could not stop thinking about her. Everywhere he went, eventually, she appeared, seemingly, from nowhere. Now, she abandoned him like everyone else. His best friend betrayed him and he lost his job; he could not take anymore. He climbed on the ledge and stared across the horizon.

    “What do you think you are doing?” The melodic voice said.

    He looked over his shoulder. Her plump face looked up at him. Her squat body seemed shorter from his new height. She had never spoken to him before and her voice filled him with comfort.

    “You,” he said to her. “Who are you?”

    “Your angel,” she replied with a smile.

    “You don’t look like any angel I’ve ever seen.”

    “Please,” she rolled her eyes at him. “I’m the only angel you’ve ever seen.”

    “Where are your wings?”

    She shook her head and sighed. The air behind her stirred and for a few seconds giant monarch butterfly wings were visible to him. The sight of her wings startled him and he wobbled on the ledge. She rushed forward grabbing his legs, then pulled him backwards to topple on top of her.

    “Contrary to popular belief,” she said pushing him off her. “Angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.”

    243 Words

  2. “A million suns will set before you are ever able to walk this earth, to defile your brethren again.”

    His powerful form towered over Reynault, casting down a glare that made him cower in fear.

    “But I did nothing wrong!”

    The hideous, chastising snort, booming and shaking the ground beneath, made him cringe even more.

    “Nothing? You murdered your own kind. You took the life of another night-walker.”

    Reynault tried to look up at the being, but despite his own immortality, he was terrified.

    “He was going to kill a human child!” he pleaded.

    A long, black, bony finger struck out and poked him hard in the chest.

    “So what is it to you? Are you a hero? Do you think you are their savior? You never, ever kill your own.”

    Reynault, trying to be brave, stood up suddenly to face the massive creature.

    “What are you, anyway? What authority do you have over me?”

    Suddenly enormous scaly black wings spread out behind the beast as he leaned in closer.

    “I am sent from the creator. Her messenger. I have her authority to punish any and all vampires.”

    “Creator? Messenger? What, you’re a vampire angel?” Reynault tried not to laugh, but the idea was preposterous.

    “Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings. Yes, I am what you might consider an angel, a messenger from the Unholy Almighty, the vampire Goddess, Belili, Ninlil, Lilith. And now, it is time for your punishment.”

    250 words

  3. I had no doubt that my prowess on Earth would reflect in the afterlife. Every day I would flex my muscles like the jaws-of-life to crush even the smallest impediment in my path towards righteousness. I was faithful and did my part in making sure my seed was not wasted. Be fruitful and multiply. Oh, and I did! I donated to the banks and for every swollen butt monkey that came along I was there ready for my duty.
    She was an angel with long slender sparkling wings. Her hair glowed and her eyes pierced into my soul. For sure she was thinking of me and it was yet again time to fulfill my role for God.
    As I approached she snickered behind her hand. Nervousness was a natural response to my stature but all the ladies got over that much sooner than later.
    Then I got closer and heard her whisper to her friend, “Look how small his wings are.”
    I evaluated my wings in the cloud’s reflection and I smiled at my wings the size of my hands spread out. I knew what these hands could do and I wasn’t worried, “Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.” I winked.
    It was only a matter of time before she realized that size doesn’t matter.
    225 words

  4. Torn off, shorn off, rebuilt, cobbled-together, fallen, or frayed, they took up positions around the white-feathered emissary. Undaunted, it cast a calm gaze at each of them in turn, and was surprised at how few averted their eyes.

    ::Which among you are still angels?:: The words were cast out like a challenge, chin raised, eyes blazing.

    ::All of us.:: Instantaneous, in unison, a cacophony of derision and defiance. ::Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.::

    The white angel nodded imperceptibly and lashed out with a blazing sword.

    Sparks flew in a shower and sizzled in the pooling blood and rainwater. The tattered angels looked at the luminous angel, silent and impassive, their ranks diminished.

    ::Angels fall. Some are just too stubborn to stay down.::

    They fell upon him like devout shrapnel. All that remained was the sword, left cold and dark, and a single torn feather, wedged in a crevice between two bricks, moving in the faint breeze of their passage.

    Marching into the night, the frayed angels looked around at the world that was theirs.

    185 words

  5. Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings. Often, this is how they conceal their activity. Sometimes, though, just for a moment, we get a glimpse beyond their disguises.

    I guess I was not supposed to die that night. The road was dark, the rain toggled between all or nothing and people were driving horrendously. "Instant idiots," I muttered, "just add water."

    Even worse, a mosquito began buzzing around my face. Keeping my hands on the wheel, I pursed my lips and puffed away the pest, but it kept coming back.

    Escalating the fight, I swatted at the intruder as it landed on my cheek. All I did was slap myself, however, since the mosquito flew to the other side.

    Switching hands did not help. Again, the little bloodsucker flew away, but I kept my eyes on the road and stayed in my lane as the rain and darkness continued enveloping me.

    Finally, just as I put both hands back onto the wheel, a face appeared right in front of me - IN THE CAR.

    "TURN RIGHT!" It yelled before disappearing, leaving me alone with the mosquito.

    I shrieked, jerking the wheel to the right. My car came to a rest just off the road, but not before I saw the errant, crashing semi cross into the lane where I had been driving.

    Briefly, the face appeared again.

    "You're safe now."

    Then it was gone. So was the mosquito.

    247 words

  6. Unseasonably warm a week ago, winters chill had come in a fury now as the snow came down I sought shelter for the night.
    “I’m sorry if only you’d come sooner the shelter is full.”
    Then I lay down to sleep on the cold ground
    Wishing for an angel I was amazed to find a woman who looked nothing like one. Her hair was dark her wings hidden close to her back small and almost invisible.
    “Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.” she said as if she read my mind.
    “Lionel you’ve learned much in the last week, and the almighty has seen your kindness when you had little yourself.”
    “Is that why the almighty finally answered my prayer?”
    “Lionel who stood with you when you wanted shelter? Who found a meal for your empty belly? Who lifted your feet and made them light when you felt you could walk no more?”
    “The almighty was with me?”
    “Yes he made the unseasonable mild weather. He made the lady see that you needed money for food? Remember how surprised you were that she gave you a twenty?
    “Come Lionel come with me to your reward no more pain, no more trial, no more sorrow, only his light” she said taking me by the hand and pulling me into glorious light
    Light all-encompassing peace and joy, everlasting enveloped me.
    “Poor beggar, he died during the night.” I heard far away
    250 words

  7. Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings. The tiny chrysalis in Dr. Tsukova's hand would one day become an angel with butterfly wings, except that Tsukova was about to eat it. The preparations for the ritual were complete; getting the chalk to mark the lino of the laboratory floor had been hard, but the runic circle was complete. Candlesticks marked the cardinal points, and Chsh'tzk'ivar, his demonic patron, stood in the subsidiary circle, driving his power into the array. The ritual sacrifice - a banana, since Chsh'tzk'ivar's aspect was slapstick - lay sliced open at Tsukova's feet.
    The doctor took a deep breath and started to raise his hand to his mouth, but the slap of running feet in the corridor distracted him. The door burst open to reveal the scrawny shape of Dr. Narim. He gasped, "Van! Have you seen my-" His mouth caught up with his eyes. "What the devil are you doing?"
    Chsh'tzk'ivar raised a scaly eyebrow as Narim stepped, wide-eyed, into the room. The mop propped up by the door fell and tangled in his legs, sending him stumbling against the table. Ponderous, unstoppable, it toppled in a spray of glass flasks.
    Half a dozen colourful, volatile liquids spread and mixed on the floor, crawling towards the circle. Panic finally prodded Tsukova to action. He stumbled forward, but this close to his patron's influence there was no escape. His foot landed on the sacrificial banana...

    248 words

  8. Veronica was an Easter Born Witch the rarest of all the sordid sisters of the craft. It has been said that no true witch could survive being born on the holiest of Christian holidays the day when Christ returned from the dead and spared the souls of man from eternal nothingness. But Veronica was in fact a true witch, and it had never been clearer to the six senior sisters than it was right now.

    The dark eyes of the bloodied, fat, nude little body gazed lifelessly before them, a handlebar mustache, hid scars from long ago battle, if it had genitalia it would have been male, but as it was, there were no balls nor was there a cock on its hairless torso, on its bloodied back tiny little wings that could easily have been hidden as he wandered among the mortals. Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings. But this Angel was a hunter, he was not concerned with mortals he was looking for witches, and unfortunately for him he had found Veronica.

    184 words

  9. Title: The End Is Only The Beginning

    Opening my eyes, something felt off, something nagged at the back of my mind … a flash of light, of metal. I was in my room, but not. I felt awake, but not. It was very strange. I got up and moved around, everything the same but somehow different.

    The moment I stepped out of my bedroom, reality fell away. Before me was a vast hall, bright and luminous, full of all different kinds of people. A petite, red-headed woman walked toward me with a gentle smile.

    “Welcome to the Otherside, Morgan.” she said.

    “How do you know me?” I asked. “And who are you? What’s the Otherside?

    “I’m Elleria. I’m here to show you around.”

    “And here is?”

    “The Otherside.”


    “The Otherside,” she repeated, patiently. “You died last night in a car accident. Now, you’re an angel.”

    I sputtered, completely confused as I looked around at all the other people in the hall moving around with purpose.

    “Are all these others … ?”

    She nodded. “Yes. Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.”

    “Wings?” I looked behind me and didn’t see anything sprouting from my back.

    “Not in the literal sense, Morgan. Your wings are your transportation when you are earthbound. It could be a car, a bike, anything. Come, it’s time to show you around.”

    Utterly lost, I followed Elleria into the Otherside.

    235 Words

  10. The motion of the ocean

    “Oh Michael!” Rachel’s jaw dropped.
    She was dumbstruck at the sight of the Arc-Angel, bared in all his Heavenly Glory. His body was chiseled perfection far surpassing the classic sculptors wet dreams of male idealism.
    “I just. I mean, I don’t know if it will fit.” her eyes met the Angel’s gaze. “I thought it would be, I don’t know, normal-ish.”
    “Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of…'wings'.” Michael winked and her clothes vanished, turned to ethereal nothingness by the power of the Right-Hand of God.
    “I am an Arc-Angel after all. I’m not some run-of-the-mill cherubim.” Michael chuckled and Rachel’s knees shivered with excitement. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Some of my best friends are cherubim. In fact, I know this one guy, Bartholomew who…”
    “Shut up and kiss me, my love,” Rachel ran her fingers along the Angel’s “wings” and let slip a tiny moan of anticipation.
    He bent low and kissed her. Deeply. Gently.
    Rachel felt an eruption of erotic energy flood her body and she melted into his arms. All of Heaven and Earth was theirs tonight and she would never be the same.

    206 words

  11. Not eligible, but I still want to play. :)

    The organ music swelled to a crescendo nearly eclipsed by the Father’s self-important posturing. I didn't need eyes to see the truth of him. I knew the signs. Hands held a moment longer than proper. Awkward smiles hiding shame. Not the Father's shame, of course. Handsome, respected, he felt no such humbling emotion. He glad-handed with the congregation as they filed out, a picture of righteous piety. Eventually the chapel emptied of all but the good Father.

    And me.

    "Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings," he said. A muffled reply came from his cell phone. "No, darling. You are a desirable goddess of earthly flesh. I cannot wait to drink from your holy altar again."

    I stood, rapping my cane against the pew. Sunglasses hid the milky white of my eyes. The Father quickly ended his call.

    "I didn't know anyone was still here." His hand gripped my elbow too hard. "Allow me to help."

    "But I am here to help you, Father," I said softly. "You have lost your way."

    "Who are you?" he demanded.

    "I am a messenger," I said. "I am sent to remind you of the path you chose. To explain to you the punishment for straying from that path."

    I removed my sunglasses, letting him gaze upon eyes blind to all but divine justice.

    "I see your guilt, Father."

    "What--what are you?" His voice dropped to a raspy whisper.

    "Not all angels have wings."

    250 words

  12. Victor’s lungs burned both from the damned smoke and the unholy stench of the Hell-Portal. On his knees he tried in vain to force his hand to close around the hilt of his holy sword. How could he have been so stupid? Of course fiends would summon more of their own; he got careless believing himself to be hunting a single half-demon.

    It’s never just one.

    She must have been the one that opened the Hell-Portal—in league with the cultists anyway. His eyes watered as he looked feebly up to where the half-demon had possessed her own mortal mother. Bat-like wings reached out from the once beautiful back and brimstone burned in eyes once ocean blue. And yet, she was fighting the demons emerging from the portal? Forcing them back inside?

    Before Victor’s stunned eyes he saw the possessed woman do what he could not—drive back an entire legion of devils. The fused entity landed in front of him, but left her wings out twitching as she studied him.

    “Why?” Victor managed to choke the words out, “Why fight your own kind? You think you can deceive me with false acts of goodness?”

    “These acts were not false,” a small voice sounded from behind Victor. The gypsy woman from before. “Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.”

    228 words
    (Wow, there's some amazing stuff here! Really loved a lot of these.)

  13. “I still don’t understand what you are trying to tell me,” Sarah said.

    Professor Mason Goldberg pushed Sarah’s wheelchair into her apartment. “It’s not like I’m speaking Greek,” he said. “On the other hand maybe that would make it clearer to you if I did.” The last sentence Mason spoke in Greek.

    “How would it make it clearer if I don’t understand Greek?”

    “You understood what I just said didn’t you?”

    “You were speaking English, of course I understand you.”

    “I guess you would perceive it that way.” Mason started rolling Sarah’s wheelchair toward the window. “I hate to go to extremes but it’s important that you understand.”

    “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

    “Probably, but I’ll prove my point.” Mason picked up speed and crashed through the window at full speed.

    Sarah screamed and turned to wrap her arms around Mason as the chair fell to the ground and shattered… three stories below. Sarah opened her eyes and saw that they were hovering ten feet away from the window. “That’s impossible. How are you doing this?”

    “I’m not doing this; you are,” Mason said. “I already told you. Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.”

    206 Words

  14. He sat at the bar letting his fedora slide down his arm in a showy display. Den looked around the smoke-filled room and found what he was looking for quickly.

    A green dress accentuated her well-fed curves that God had seen fit to fill in all the right places. The fluidity in her movements only enhanced his inseam and made him almost forget what he had to do. No wonder she had been chosen for this job; her very presence made a person distracted.

    She sat beside him at the bar; the stool the object of his envy. He stumbled over his brain and found that words were difficult to form, “An unlikely place for an angel to appear.”

    Her lips parted and her chest heaved gloriously the words he had come to hear: "Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings."

    He struggled to remember the confirmation code; her nipples pressing hard against the flimsy material that barely covered them. He ripped his eyes away from the lovely sight and pinched his arm, as he crossed them, to try to regain control, “Then the damned will envy my conversion.”

    She put a hand on his leg and the shock of it sent tingles straight to his dick. He placed a hand over hers and the package was delivered; both of them. Her eyes raised to his knowingly and she gave him a sly grin before she stood up and walked away.

    250 words

  15. Believe
    by Lisa McCourt Hollar

    "Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings."

    The words echoed in my head, over and over as I fell. Tia's voice had always been like music. Now it sung to me like a choir of angels and I laughed...or would have if I wasn't currently screaming on my way to the hard concrete below.

    My plummet down the rabbit hole came as a result of my being overly curious. I just had to follow Linda and find out what she was up to. The resulting confrontation had resulted in my being thrown from the top of Graystone Manor.

    "It seems curiousity does kill the cat."

    This voice was deep, cutting through my thoughts like a serated knife. I recognized Lucus, Linda's lover. How long was this free fall going to take and was it going to be subject to every weirdo I had met, since discovering Jayne was alive?

    My best friend. A vampire! And me, a Spirit Glider. At least that is what Tia said. And her request for my assistance to help protect this strange world that connected to the real world had led me to Graystone Manor.

    But I was just a human. I can't protect anyone. Sage was wrong. I couldn't be a Glider.

    "Sage, believe."

    Tia's voice broke my paralysis. What she said was impossible. But so was what she was. So maybe I could...

    And just like that I stopped falling...and I flew.

    Word Count: 250

    This is based on a series of stories I wrote about Sage, a girl who discovered she was more than ordinary. Graystone Manor is in the novel I am writing and I plan on Sage becoming a character.

  16. Seasonal Help

    Baelzaraath stepped to the podium and surveyed the audience. He sighed. It was hopeless. Every year, he was confronted by more insidious threats. Yet, with each passing year, his candidates to defeat the menace with were less impressive. It simply was not fair at all.

    It was an unexpected factor in the battle of Evil versus Good. More and more humans were taking the matter of their personal damnation into their own hands.

    External pressure was unnecessary. Every day, countless new followers were tossing themselves willingly into the Pit, like brimstone-addicted lemmings. Thus, the demonic work force decreased in quality as their jobs became redundant.

    So, as the Netherhells headed into its busiest time of year, Baelzaraath was constrained to make due with the best of those applying. He turned on the microphone and called for quiet.

    "Welcome to the Holiday Task Force Job Fair. We exist to combat that whole 'peace on earth' and 'goodwill towards men' jazz. And, as always, we face the traditional holiday threat of...angels!!"

    "Settle down and stop laughing!! In spite of rumors, angel populations are more numerous and more goody-goody than ever before. Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings."

    "Whatever form the bastards take, we take them down...hard. Remember our motto: Every time an angel dies, a demon gets his wings!! Good luck and good hunting!!"

    Amidst tumultuous cheering, he left the auditorium. Maybe this year would be different after all.

  17. Seasonal Help by @Klingorengi
    247 words

  18. ARRRGGHHH!!! I pasted the wrong version! This is the one I meant to paste. Please ignore/delete earlier entry. ~redshirt6

    "Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.” Annette stood in front of one of the tall library windows to better see the aging text she held in her hands. The light of the afternoon sun shown through the and glinted off the golden ringlets of her hair. Outside the sound of carriages and the clop of horses gave life to the dusty room. “What do you think of that?” She turned to the older woman who sat knitting by the fireplace.

    “Apostasy!” the older woman replied. Her knitting needles seemed to clash and click more intensely to accentuate the hard, guttural consonants of her speech. “Contumely to God as are those who would proselytize using such vulgarity to provocate baser minds.” As she spoke her eyes flashed.

    Annette sat down on the broad window sill, a sly smile spreading across her face.

    “You father the Vicar,” the older woman continued, needles clicking furiously, “God rest his soul, would never have allowed you to read such contrary dribble.”

    “Speaking of fathers,” Annette replied, “how is Father Albright?”

    The needles stopped.

    “It seems I saw him coming from your apartments just this morning. He appeared rather flushed. I do hope,” she said, feigning concern, “he is alright.”

    The older woman sat still as her face darkened with rage.

    “Contumely,” Annette said as the older woman fled the room. “Such a strong word.”

  19. 250 Words

    ~~and forgot my handle :-/

  20. Too Good to be True

    He stood there, hands on his hips, bright blue wings settled back against his back and a devil may care grin on his face. Brows wiggled and he aimed at a finger at Judy and gave a cat whistle.

    She blinked twice and glanced around before picking up her tea and took a sniff to see if there was anything in it that might be probably cause for hallucinations.

    “No luck, babe. That’s straight up tea and yes you’re seeing me standing here. What do you think? Eh?” He looked down at the small toga and ran a hand through shoulder length blonde hair. “Not my usual look but I’m willing to work with it.”

    “Say what?” She looked at the tiny angel again.

    “You were thinking it. I’m real. Just for where you are, I figured small was the way to go. And this is what you see Angels as, right?”

    “Yeah.” She chewed “I just…the size thing. And your wings are Like a peacock.”

    “Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings. I know some who have metal wings.”

    She paused and leaned forward. “Oh well, why are you here?”

    He glanced around, checking to make sure that no one was listening before leaning forward and his grin widened as his eyes took on a red sheen. “I’m going to offer you one hell of a deal.”

    238 words


  21. This is an excerpt from a contemporary short novel.

    Michael steered Marie’s car off of the icy highway and his roommate Neil followed in his old Skylark. She smiled as she saw the street sign for Miss Elise Lane, remembering her beloved terrier that had died during the construction of the house that had never felt like home.

    The irony was biting. Her family’s wealth had been gained through generations of smart real estate investments. She hit the button for the garage door and felt embarrassed by the desert palace that opened its mouth to eat them. Her parents’ home couldn’t be sold for even half of what it cost to build it.

    Marie took the keys from him as she met him near the trunk. He held her hands for a moment and squeezed, reaching through her depression in a way no one else had managed in months. When he pulled his hands back, she cursed her mom for running right out to greet them.

    “Thank you, Michael. You’re an angel.”

    It was freezing, but his blush from the affection. Her parents had never liked him much, but her mother had warmed up to him since Marie came from the psych ward.

    Shoving his hands into his pockets, he shrugged. “No wings on these shoulders, Mrs. Brooks.”

    "Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes…“ the woman put an arm around her daughter’s shoulder, “…with all kinds of wings."

    He pulled open his roommate’s passenger door and smiled. “Good night.”

    Word Count: 245

  22. "Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings." The bartender said. She held the statue in her hands, the butterfly wings stretched out behind the tinker bell like figurine.

    “Ok, sure, whatever you say,” The grizzled old man answered, taking another sip and setting the empty glass down on the bar. A young man, barely 25, sat a few stools over, trying to act like he wasn’t listening. “She still looks like a Faerie to me,” he added.

    “Call them what you will, still, they do watch and protect us.” A loud guffaw silenced the conversation.

    “Are you kidding me?” The young man said, stepping off of the stool. He walked over to the pair, a chrome revolver now visible in his hand. “Do you see anyone protecting you now, do you?” He raised the gun. “Empty the register, NOW!”
    “Are you sure you want to do that, son?” The old man asked, taking another sip of his beer. The gun shifted towards him.
    “What are you gonna do, gramps,” he asked, grabbing the figurine from the bartender, “sick the Faerie on me? Ooh, I am so scared.” His eyes widened in disbelief as the small being bit down on his finger. The bartender and the old man began to laugh as the tiny being produced a wand. There was a pop and the robber was gone.
    “Nice,” the bartender said, “I get the next one.”

    Word Count 245

  23. #ThursThreads is now closed. Thanks to everyone who participated. See you again next week. :)


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