Thursday, July 3, 2014

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week126

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. It's Thursday today, so get your flash ready. Writing a #flashfiction thread! Welcome to Week 126 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? You're welcome to join the FB #ThursThreads group where we'll do events and make announcements. 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 8 PM Mountain 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 126:

Me, the Scottish Word Slinger, Siobhan Muir.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:

“Shit, that’s nice.”

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. “I can’t even breathe in this shit.”

    “That’s nice, Cal. Real nice. Way to make a lady feel special.” Sandra wiped the mentholated ointment under her nose and sniffed.

    “Only the best for you. Gimme that.” Cal curled his latex-covered finger into the ointment and dabbed some under each nostril. “Hell. This is not my idea of a good 4th of July.”

    “I don’t think they were looking forward to this, either.” Sandra nudged the flayed body of the nearest victim with the toe of her boot. “Okay. Enough delays. Camera?”

    Sandra guessed that body identification was going to be down to dental records. She swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. “Their…facial muscles look relaxed, more or less.”

    “Yeah, means they weren’t alive when he did this.”

    “Think it’s the copycat?”

    “Uh-huh. The original…”

    Sandra nodded. “Yeah. They’d been screaming.”

    It had happened last 4th of July and Cal had pointed out that the noise of the huge fireworks production must have overpowered the screams of the victims. “Yeah. Six, just like last time.”


    The bodies had been arranged, hands holding skinless hands, in a careful circular pattern, with a sparkler in each open mouth.

    Cal gestured to one of the photographers, taking her camera and reviewing the pictures of the scene. “Know what? There were still sparks on the ground when they started taking pics.”

    Sandra stilled, a strange combination of dread and adrenaline filling her limbs. “He’s still here.”
    = = =
    Word Count 248
    Sandi Layne

  2. I walked out to the gate, Hardy and Gravedigger trailing behind me. Jonah didn’t know his aunt had arrived. The provisionals on guard duty looked jumpy. A bad-ass Jeep rigged to run blocked the drive. The woman leaning against its front bumper looked like hell on wheels. Short, spiky hair, old-style fatigues, combat boots, and a fuckin’ automatic pistol strapped to her hip. She was long and lean and would put a man in mind of some hot sex if it weren’t for her grim expression.

    I stopped dead in my tracks. She was Pretty Woman’s sister but holy hell. This woman was Pretty’s evil twin. No, seriously. Add some curves and long hair, and I’d be lookin’ at Pretty. It was a weird fucking feeling. But this woman was hard. Everything about her.
    Digger puckered up around an appreciative whistle. “Shit, that’s nice.”

    Fucker should keep his damn opinions to himself. Thing was, he was right. Everything about her made my dick happy dance.

    “I’m Easy.”

    “And I’m not. Where’re my kids?”

    “They’re not yours.”

    “The hell you say. Jonah and Noni are mine. Sarah wanted it that way.”

    Sarah. So that was her name. At the moment, she was a Jane Doe in the county coroner’s office. We’d gathered up the kids and got the hell out of there before the authorities swarmed.

    “Put your gun away and we’ll talk.”


    My dick didn’t want to talk either. “Easy or hard, we do it my way.”
    250 words


  3. The boy and his mother entered the bus and sat down beside and older couple.
    “Look at that old pair canoodling, Mom. Disgusting!”
    “William, don’t talk about your elders that way.”
    “So where did you get that tattoo on your arm?” the boy asked the old woman.
    “William!!”The mother admonished.
    “As a child I was taken from my home and shipped to an internment camp. My family died there,” the woman answered. The man wiped away tears and she patted his hand.
    “I’m sorry,” the mother stated.
    Pointing at her companion the woman said, “He was only a boy then, but he pushed food through the fence to me, when the guards were looking.”
    “Shit, that’s nice.”
    “More than nice, it saved my life.”
    “So when you got out you married?”
    “No, he had been enlisted in the army. When he got out he looked for me.”
    “And he found you,” asked the boy.
    “No, I immigrated to the United States and married someone else. He married in Germany. Our spouses died.”
    “But you’re married now?”
    “Yes, we were married this morning.”
    The boy whispered in his mother’s ear then began going around to people in the bus. He came back a few minutes later and said, “Congratulations, we took up a collection so you could have a honeymoon on us.”
    The older woman counted the cash on thousand dollars in all and began to cry. Then she composed herself smiled and said, “Once again a child leads the way.”
    250 words

  4. ~~~~~

    The dream is vivid, awash with colors and sounds.

    We won the game of life, and are now in charge of the future. Finally, they’ve decided to ask for our help—we are the people who actually know how to fix things.

    As we walk into the room, 34 people stand up and salute us. Shit, that’s nice when that happens.

    You gracefully seat yourself at the speakers’ table, and I take my place at your side, presenting the solution.

    The future is already here.

    Waking up, in a haze, I realize that I’ve lost the plan.

    We’re all doomed.


    Word count: 100 on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011

  5. “What are we going to do?”

    “I don’t know,” Kelly hissed, glancing toward her cousin before staring back through the thick hydrangea bushes. “Now hush up.”

    Her cousin mumbled something, but Kelly ignored him. She’d make sure to punch Chris in the arm later. Right now her main concern was her big sister Megan and Megan’s boyfriend Brian. The really handsome Brian who never failed to sneak her strawberry lollipops, her favorite, when he came to visit. The pair of ‘em seemed to be fighting, something about a girl giving Brian a kiss on the cheek. Megan was furious, and more than anything Kelly didn’t want the two of them breaking up. After all, Brian was perfect.

    “Shit, that’s nice,” Chris whispered.

    Kelly blinked, coming out of her momentary lapse of concentration, and made a mental note to punch Chris in the arm for cursing. She refocused on her sister and Brian. Brian was down on one knee, holding something up to Megan. Even from this distance the diamond ring flashed in the sunlight. Kelly’s heart rate kicked up, this was perfect! If they got married she’d get to see Brian a lot more. He could take her ice skating, and teach her to fish just like he’d promised to do.

    If stupid Megan didn’t mess it all up. Her sister sobbed, and didn’t answer.

    Damn it! She had to do everything. She burst out of the bush. “Yes, she’ll marry you!” she shouted for her stupid sister.

    248 words

  6. Prompt:
    “Shit, that’s nice.”


    Posh, social setting.

    Business partners and clients all belonged to dear husband, and I was invited as the +1. Shit, that’s nice.

    Colorful cocktails and exquisite Amuse-bouches all over the elegant place. Beautiful people drifting in and out of high-ceilinged rooms.

    Conversing with an important CEO, I mentioned that I fly planes.

    He jumped on that, and started a long monologue on how he took two lessons on a Bi-plane twenty-five years ago. He drifted into aerodynamics and meteorology, looking mighty pleased with himself.

    At the end of his monologue, he turned and asked, ”What do you fly, darling?”



    Word count: 100 on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011

    1. That's cute, Anna. :) Such a patronizing fellow, the other guest, eh? Nice. Very nice.

    2. My cowboy world is full of misogynistic mansplaining pricks, Sandi.
      This? happens. every. single. day.

  7. Mack raised his gaze to the trail ahead. They made her walk? A few more bootprints showed up among the unshod crescents and he followed along, keeping his own off the dirt. The trees gave way to grasslands and some of the fronds rose above his shoulders. The air smelled of grain ripening in the sun and grass as he skulked through the blades. The wind rattled the grass until it reached almost a screaming pitch.

    Damn, I don't remember the wind being that fierce.

    It took him a few heartbeats to realize it wasn't the wind making the sound. Mack jerked his gaze into the brilliant blue sky just in time to see a meteor heading straight for him.

    Aw, shit, that's nice. What're the odds?

    He tried to calculate where the meteor would hit and bolted perpendicular to it to escape. Oddly, the meteor seemed to follow him and he spun just as it crashed into the grass no more than thirty yards behind him. The impact threw him to the ground just as heat and flame shot over his head. Mack rolled to keep the flames from catching his clothes and scrambled to his feet to escape the brush fire.

    He only had to run a few feet before the flames appeared to stop in a perfect circle around the impact. Mack cautiously glanced over his shoulder and paused.The meteor thrashed on the grown as if experiencing death throes.

    What the hell?

    245 ineligible #WIP500 words

  8. The nymphs came forward in a procession of ridiculous grace. Cerisa emerged as the leader, presenting me a—a dress?

    “What the fuck is that?”

    Cerisa paled and I swore.


    “That’s nice. I meant, that’s nice.” Sure, of course I did. I eyed the creation, all layers and shades of white. “Kinda like clouds and dandelion fluff.”

    Adrius choked on a laugh and I elbowed him.

    Cerisa fluttered, her violet eyes filling with something that looked suspiciously like hope.

    “Then you approve?”

    “Oh, hell no. I don’t do nice.” I shook my head. “Or nice doesn’t do me. Whatever.” I was babbling, but no way was I dressing up as Nature Barbie. “It never ends well.”

    Adrius was beyond any attempts to politely stifle his laughter. With a raised eyebrow, I lifted my booted foot, ready to put his instep six feet under.

    “Gently, love.” He waved the ladies away and closed the distance between us, a subtle shift from negligible to none. “I warned her. I know my lady is moved by different beauty.”

    He lightly cuffed my wrists.

    “They offer you flowers, but you dance with tempests.” His hands slid along my arms. “Strong.” He leaned in and kissed my temple. “Intelligent.” My lips. “Lethal.”

    My stomach fluttered as his tone dropped to a rumble.

    “And so beautiful, my soul aches.”

    “I’m not.”

    “You are to me.


    “Say my name thus again.” He tempted me with a flick of his tongue. “Once more, my fierce Circe.”

    250 #WIP500 words

  9. Speechless, I looked at my boyfriend as he extended a gold band toward my left hand. Mouth gaping open, I tackled him when he slipped the band on my finger. Gazing at the ring, I looked at Jacoby.

    “I can’t believe we’re going to be together forever. Are you sure you want that? I’m a lot of trouble—“

    “Of course I do. You’re not enough trouble to get rid of me.”

    I kissed him, deepening it immediately. Jacoby was going to be my husband.

    “I love you."

    "I love you, too. When can we tell people?"

    Jacoby laughed. "Whenever you want. We should call our folks, too!"

    I had one friend I wanted to tell first. Aaron and I went way back to my first days on the streets of Omaha and he'd be so happy at my good news. Kissing Jacoby's cheek, I promised to come right back to call our folks.

    "Yo, Jim! What's up? Need somethin'?"

    I grinned. "Just to share some good news, man. Jacoby popped the question and I said yes!"

    There was a pause. "Shit, that's nice." He didn't sound as happy as I'd hoped. "Congrats, man. Let me know when the wedding is."

    "Will do, man. Later."

    I hung up, my happiness deflated. I figured my best friend would be happy for me. Then again, he was probably still sore over our breakup. I smiled when realized I still had to tell my parents. Oh, my mother is going to flip!

    247 Words

  10. Carrie was going to kill her brother. Seriously kill him. Super dead. And she’d take his stuff and fine a large fire and burn the hell out of it. Wouldn’t that piss him off in the afterlife if he lost his precious trophies. They didn’t count anyway but he needed something phallic to justify why their parents loved him more.

    She had to be adopted. They all drove her crazy and she was ready to move out by the time she graduated school.

    And now she was covering for the golden child. If only they knew that he was such a druggie that he begged her to pay off his dealer. Yeah, this was not going to end well. He needed to get his act together before it was too late.

    There was a long wolf whistle to the side. "Shit, that is nice. Hey, baby girl. Why don’t you come over and keep me warm, huh?”


    She turned and glanced at the guy who gave her to less than cheerful compliment, in her eyes at least. He looked like the normal greaser that was found in the less than reputable areas. Slicked back hair, ragged jeans and acting like the fact that the wall was only up because he was standing there. Smoke wreathed his head.

    “No, thank you.”

    “Better watch, baby girl. Things around here will want to just eat you up.”

    Carrie rolled her eyes. Seriously? That was his come on? “I’ll pass.”

    “Your funeral.”

    249 words

  11. Ken stood alone until the bathroom door banged open and a young, disheveled man raced to the urinal beside him, cursing under his breath with each step.

    The man unzipped as if he was fumbling to diffuse a ticking time bomb.

    Ken smirked at the mirror in front of him. Been there.

    “Holy shit, that’s nice,” the man exhaled as a consistent stream splashed against the porcelain.

    Ken finished and zipped up.

    “The band’s brilliant. So brilliant I forgot to take care of business.”

    Ken turned to smile at him. “Glad you think so.”

    The man’s eyes went wide. “Wait! Are you…!?”

    “Ken Cross. I’d shake your hand, but…”

    The young man zipped up hastily and pulled him into a big hug.

    “You’re my idol! I love Death Punch, but you’re my fav. You shred like a madman!”

    Ken didn’t normally like to be touched by strangers, even fans, but the guy’s enthusiasm was cute. Okay, maybe this guy was cute, too. “Thanks. Hey, you want to come backstage and hang with us?”

    “Are you fucking kidding me?”

    Ken shook his head, amused.

    “Can I grab my friends?”

    “Sure. Bring them on back and tell John, the bouncer – rainbow. He’ll let you in.”

    “Awesome,” the young man whispered, but furrowed his brow. “But why me?”

    “Cause I was just like you a few years back. So into the music I could burst. And well, you’re hot, too.”

    The man’s cheeks flushed and he bit his lip as he left.

    249 Words

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


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