Thursday, December 26, 2013

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 101

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. If you celebrated, how was your Christmas? I had a great time. And even better, it's Thursday today, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 101 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 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 101:

Dead thing specialist, mining geologist, and master of useless knowledge, George Varhalmi.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“Only time for one.”

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. “A dance?” I held out my hand, my smile kept in place through sheer will. Say yes. Please say yes.

    She chuckled. “I’m not sure the modern dances are really your speed.”

    The music pumping through the club whipped the humans into a frenzy of pulsing, pounding lust, sweating bodies draped around each other. This ‘dancing’ bore more resemblance to an orgy. I shifted on my feet, the room seeming smaller by the moment as I imagined being so entwined with her.

    “I have some familiarity with the mood the music evokes.”

    Her lashes dropped, shielding her storm-gray eyes as she shivered.

    I took my fingers on a lazy journey along her bare arm. Bending close, I touched my lips to her ear. “I promise not to embarrass you.”

    My heart kicked into a heavy drumming beat to match the music as she lifted her left arm, tipping the watch around her wrist to face her.

    “Key.” I turned her name into a plea. I never asked. Never begged. Never knew my future to hang upon an answer.

    “Yes.” Her head lifted, and the naked hope in her eyes scoured my soul. She placed her hand in mine. “But I’ve only time for one.”

    Convincing a woman you’d once loved that you could love her again, that maybe you’d never really stopped loving her at all despite a few millennia of anecdotal evidence otherwise…

    Only time for one.

    I’d have to make it one to remember, then.

    247 WIP words

    1. I love this! So edgy and romantic

    2. amazing story!!!! made my heart beating faster... great work :)

  2. Laying my head on the bar, I yawned. I need to get home. Lifting my head, I looked over at the bartender.

    "Wahn more!"

    Nick shook his head. "Sorry, Jim. I got your keys and Jacoby's on his way. Time to go home."

    My face sank into a frown. "I'm perfecly sober, thankyouverymuch. I got time for wahn more."

    "Sorry, buddy. Last call was five minutes ago."

    I slid from the barstool. I know how to have my way with Nick, he's been my bar friend for years. Damn, the floor's hard. I stood up, gripping the bar, looking at the clock. Only time for wahn. Well, it's gonna have to be a good wahn, then. I wiggled the little door that led to the booze but it's locked.


    "Jimmy. Go. Home. You're drunk."

    "Gotta have keys. Cantdrive without keys."

    "Your ride's here."

    I turned, giggling when I landed on the floor. That's gonna hurt in the morning. I looked up into the eyes of my husbands. Wait, I only have wahn husband. Ah, hell with it. I got up and leaned on them, hoping wanh of them could drive.

    "This is your last fucking trip the bar."

    "I didn get my last drink."

    "Too fucking bad. Get in the truck."

    I tried getting' in three times. I want a nice warm bed and a hard fuck with Jacoby. Frowning when he poured me onto the couch a few minutes later, I sighed. Shoulda had that last drink.

    250 words

  3. General Deborah Wylie smirked as she sensed her former husband approaching. The spectral demon hybrid sorceress and one-time vampire knew exactly why Charles was entering her domain. She had the upper hand, and she was going to play it to her advantage.
    “Questions, Charlie?” she crooned in a saccharine tone. “All right, but be quick. I’m very busy, so there’s only time for one. Choose it wisely!”
    “Get over yourself, you tin horn,” General Charles Hicks sighed. “Honestly, Deborah, you bore me to tears. What I have for you is not a question, it’s a very strong suggestion.”
    “The great General Charles Hicks has come to me with orders!” General Wylie gasped with mock obeisance. “What is your command, General?”
    “Stop upsetting the balance, Deborah. For once in your miserable existence, put your vindictive nature in check. Forget your grievances against our nephew and his wife. Destroying their relationship would not only harm them and their children, it would destroy everything, and I mean, literally, everything.”
    “Oh Charles, you toad!” General Wylie groaned. “Open your eyes! For this brief and shining moment, I am on your side. While it is still one of my long-term goals to vindicate myself against Ellen for sending me through that vortex which ground my body to a bloody puree, I realize at this juncture that souring the vomit-inducing romance that she and our fool of a nephew have would ill serve all creatures great and small, including me. I think we should team up!”

    250 words
    Cheesy from @UndeadNether

  4. “You can do this.” Duke felt her shift as her hair tickled his nose. She smelled of dust, sweat, and a sweet musk that tightened parts of his body he needed to ignore. Cory Prince was off limits. She was simply a tool—one he must utilize to fulfill his mission.

    “They’ll be moving?”

    “Yeah.” A delicate shudder followed his reply, and he felt it in his core. He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to use her. But he didn’t have a choice. At least, that’s what he told himself. He’d been blinded in the explosion. And a blind sniper couldn’t take out the target. He wouldn’t get another chance. Cory would have to sight-in the scope. And pull the trigger. Duke refused to consider what this would do to the doctor’s psyche.

    Cory stiffened. “There’s movement.”

    “Ignore that. Focus on the vehicle. They’ll put him in the back. Find your mark, wait for the target to enter the cross-hairs.” He touched her shoulder and pretended her flinch didn’t bother him.

    “What if I miss the shot?”

    “Only time for one, princess. Just like we practiced.”

    She swallowed a whimper but he recognized her distress. She tensed, inhaled, exhaled. Her finger twitched on the trigger. With the practice of a hundred kills, he slid his finger through the guard and pulled. The rifle bucked. “Confirm!”

    “Target down.” Her voice broke, and shattered his heart.

    “We gotta go.” No time for tears. Later. She could cry later.

    250 words (on a far-distant WIP)


  5. Elisabeth wailed her dismay at the top of her lungs and squirmed against his hold.

    Lightening flashed with blinding brilliance, turning the world white.

    Stephen shielded his eyes, squinting. When the colored spots faded from his field of vision, a massive, red velvet curtain spanned the distance between the two stone pillars.

    Another bout of deafening thunder announced the arrival of the Dark Dwellers. Their swirling black bodes approached with screaming speed, their smoky forms twisting and twirling on the air current. They hovered between Stephen and his Queen, glowing yellow eyes pinning him in place. A deep voice echoed in his head. “Give us the child and we will let you live.”

    Stephen shook his head, took a step backward. One step closer to the curtain. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

    Another step of retreat.

    One of the black shapes separated itself from the others, moving toward his queen. By the time it reached her, the shapeless, transparent form had morphed into something solid, sinister. A stout blue-skinned dwarf materialized and lifted a knife to Ethyl’s ivory throat. “Halt, or your precious Queen’s blood shall drown the grass.”

    Heart racing, Stephen froze in place.

    Ethyl’s voice vibrated through him. “There’s only time for one of us! Go! Now!” Her blue eyes pleaded with him.

    Stephen squared his shoulders and took one step backward. Another. For her.

    The sound of Queen Ethyl’s tortured scream was the last thing he heard before he disappeared into a sea of red velvet.

    249 WIP Words

  6. Tradition

    Christmas Eve dinner was over and the children waited impatiently for Christmas to start. The parents stirred themselves from their food comas to get ready for services. Grandma and Grandpa sat in their chairs in the living room watching the children.
    The little boy looked at his grandfather and demanded, “Tell me about when you were little, like me.”
    “Okay, but there’s only time for one story. When I was young there were Christmas trees with candles.
    “Real trees, candles? Wouldn't you burn down the house?”
    “Yes, real trees not plastic ones and yes you must be careful with the candles. We'd go to midnight mass, sing carols and celebrate the birth of the baby. We’d come home and be allowed to open one present and then go to bed to wait for Santa to come. He’d fill a stocking with things we needed and on Christmas morning we might get another present of one small toy.”
    “Yes, one that we’d be happy with. Then my grandfather would read a Christmas Carol to us.”
    “Like you will now?”
    “Yes, like you will read to your grandchildren someday.”
    The little boy listened with rapture asking questions while the grandfather then read the story.
    Fifty years later another little boy asked his grandfather, “Tell me about when you were little like me.”
    “Okay, but there’s only time for one story before the story of a Christmas Carol,” the grandfather answered smiling and remembering a Christmas long ago.
    247 words

  7. An elegant woman with glossy black hair and Asian features leaned against the bar beside John and waved at the bartender. John scanned her sensual lines and the retro silk stockings with the lines up her leg. Damn, that’s sexy. His cock stirred at the thought of where those lines led.

    The woman glanced his way and offered him courteous but reserved smile. He nodded and let go of his beer to salute her as the female bartender passed him, knocking over his bottle.

    “Oh, jeez! I’m sorry.” Chagrin pulled at the corners of her mouth beneath pock-marked cheeks. “I’m so clumsy tonight. Let me get you a fresh one on the house.”

    “That’s okay. I was almost done anyway and I have only time for one, anyway.” He waved her away.

    “I insist. It’s my mistake after all.” She reached under the counter for another bottle. “Or are you headed out tonight?” She paused and bit her lower lip, her expression troubled.

    “No, I’m here for the night.”

    “Of course, he is.” The Asian woman purred as she leaned closer. “I can make your stay even better.”

    Hooker alert. He eyed her lovely attributes swathed in demure gold silk and gave her his best non-committal smile.

    “Well, honey, that’s a mighty fine offer, but I’m just a poor military boy, and your kind of company, while appreciated, might be a bit much for me.”

    235 ineligible words from WIP Bronco's Rough Ride

  8. She watched the door anxiously,
    any minute now
    She knew she'd be successful this time
    She had to know

    She remained focussed on the door
    For she was sure this time she'd won
    When Mother asked her to rise for tea from the floor
    Announcing strangely "ok but there's only time for one!"

    Hurriedly, she bolted her tea
    But Mother insisted she took her time
    Two bites more then she'd be free
    Exasperated she towed the line...

    But not without muttering "there's only time for one! "

    She sat and stared at the door
    Any minute now she knew
    This year she would catch him for sure
    Last year he'd foiled her plan as away he flew
    While she slept soundly in her bed!

    Tucked up in bed she waited
    Staring hard at the bedroom door
    Her red sock was hanging expectantly
    Tiredness overwhelmed her.
    There was only time for one last look as she fell asleep

    While she slept He visited
    Filling the red sock to the brim
    He ate the mince pie and sherry
    Before he took to his heals and flew

    The morning glistened brightly
    She awoke feeling refreshed
    On spying her sock full of presents
    She smiled and said "there's time for one more try next year! "

    (209 words)

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


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