Thursday, November 20, 2014

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 145

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. It's Thursday today so get your flash ready to celebrate and write a #flashfiction thread! Welcome to Week 145 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 145:

OpenSim master, #flashfiction writer, and erotic romance author, Nara Malone.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

Just sat there and watched.”

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 cheery fire crackled in the stone fireplace and lit the fairly large one room cabin. Despite blankets laid out on the double bed and the floor clean of debris, the cabin didn’t look occupied. Kendra closed and latched the door as the demon laid Phinn on the floor beside the bed.

    “You’re going to have to help me lift him.” She gave the demon an expectant look. “He’s too heavy for me.”

    To her surprise, the creature sat back on its haunches and picked Phinn up in is powerful arms. It laid him on the bed, boots and all, and looked over its shoulder as if the check if it had done correctly.

    “Yeah, that’s good. Thank you.”

    It nodded and sat back out of the way as she tugged Phinn’s boots off his feet. Kendra shook her head. I’m losing my marbles talking to a demon. She shot a look at the feline-like creature, but it just sat there and watched her tend to Phinn. Phinn said it’s a tracker demon. Maybe it can find my marbles for me.

    “There. He should rest better that way.”

    Kendra swung her gaze around the cabin. Canisters marked with foreign symbols lined the shelves near the fireplace over a washbasin. A pump handle jutted from the wall, suggesting they could have some running water, and a tea kettle rested beside the basin.

    “I’m going to make some tea if we have some. Want some, Marbles?”

    244 ineligible #WIP500 words


  2. A.J. Walker

    Stephen was well rehearsed with what he’d say if he ever saw Helena again. He’d gone over it times countless throughout the years in his head; usually at night, especially when feeling down or drunk - or both.

    Now, as he nursed his pint in the hotel bar, here she was not thirty feet away ordering from the barman - looking even better than Stephen remembered.

    Time seemed to come to a grinding halt and all he could see was Helena. Her pristine mane cascading down her back and her eyes lighting up his day. His heart stopped and his mind turned to blancmange as he grasped for all his perfect lines. Thirty feet but another universe away, he just sat there and watched, a spectator to his own life.

    An hour later she left the bar alone. When she got to the door she turned back to the bar and smiled at Stephen breaking the spell. He knew he would never see her again.

    163 words #Flashdogs

  3. For years she’d been my conscience, guiding me between right from wrong. Normally I followed her suggestions. That is until that jackass cut us off while leaving McDonalds.

    I honked angrily as he pulled away, and thought that was that. But then I noticed him behind us a mile later.

    He followed us for several blocks, flashing his high beams, and riding our tail.

    “I’ve had enough of his shit,” I muttered.

    “Baby, don’t,” she said plaintively, remembering the last time I’d lost my temper. It hadn’t ended well for anybody, especially me.

    “I’m not about to break my sixteen year no fighting record.”

    She knew I was lying.

    We stopped behind an abandoned movie theater.

    I rolled down my window, and pepper sprayed him the moment he arrived.

    Calmly I got out of the car with my hatchet as he stumbled around, screaming obscenities.

    “Baby, please,” she said again.

    “I’m okay. Don’t worry,” I said, bringing the hammer end down behind his left ear.

    The rude jackass awoke in our basement, strapped to a gurney board, screaming through the gag. His expression spoke of all manners of bad that awaited me if I released him.

    I hit the juice for the electrodes attached to his ears, informing him of his perilous position.

    “Time to get under way,” I said, brandishing my KaBar knife. I knew I’d feel really guilty later because of her, my conscience. But for the time being she just sat there and watched.

    Word count: 247

  4. A teenage girl stood beside a grave, her aunt beside her.
    “Are you okay, Melanie?”
    The teenage girl turned to her Aunt Janet, “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. She just sat there and watched as he beat me black and blue. She was my mother, she should have protected me.”
    “Didn’t he break her arm, her cheekbone and her head?”
    “Yes. We should go now.”
    “Okay, let’s go home.”
    “So, I can stay with you Aunt Janet?”
    “I thought this was settled you’re my niece. I love you and I’ll look after you.”
    “At least someone does,” Melanie muttered under her breath.
    “She loved you.”
    “If you say so.”
    “She not only said she loved you but she proved that in the end. Didn’t she?”
    “But I’m not going to see her for a long, long, time.”
    “Maybe, but he’s never going to hit you again.”
    “I forgot something,” Melanie cried, then turned to the open grave and spit in it.
    “Do you feel better now?”
    “I hate him but I still love him,” Melanie answered, pointing to the grave.
    “I understand. if I’d known what my brother did to you and your mother...”
    “I’m going to forgive him, but not forget what he did. I will never allow someone to treat me like that.”
    “Will you forgive your mother?”
    “I think I just did. Can we see her in prison?”
    “That can be arranged.”
    “I love you, Aunt Janet.”
    “Love you too, kiddo.”

    248 words

    1. Powerful, leading and haunting. I felt for Melanie while being proud of her independence. X

  5. Holding the end, Eleanor spun on one foot. Once. Twice. On the third complete turn, she released the silken strip of material and danced away, leaving it to settle in a heap on the floor.

    Two more patrons, one male and one female each received the gift of a strip of silk from the dancing Eleanor, leaving the lovely girl with only a swatch of material covering her breasts and another around her hips.

    The pace of the music increased, reaching a crescendo. Eleanor’s movements grew more frantic to match the increased cadence. Moving to the center of the room, motions fluid, she pulled the silken cloth free from her hips, tossed in away, and collapsed to the floor in dramatic fashion. She threw her head back, eyes clouded with pent up desire, and rose to her hands and knees,crawling toward one of the gentlemen like a hungry feline predator. When she reached the grinning man, she sat back into a kneel and removed the last strip of silken cloth from around her pert breasts and offered one end to him, her head bowed in supplication.

    The music crashed to a halt.

    The room seemed to hold its collective breath, as if waiting for something, though Justine had no idea what it could be. She just sat there and watched, fish mouthed.

    Panting from her exertions, Eleanor peeked up at the gray haired gentleman. “Happy Birthday, Master Frederick. I hope you were pleased by your gift.”

    247 WIP Words

  6. ~~~~~

    The tinkling laughter falling from the rafters was like pure mirth-filled glitter.
    She flew from beam to beam in the old barn, and all I could do was follow the sound of her.

    As the dragon still tried to get inside (belly not permitting), she flew to the nearest window, and sprinkled some glitter in his eye. When he blinked, the damage was done.

    The love went in, and all the rage was expelled. I sat there and watched as he threw his life out the window.

    Never trust faeries—it is so hard to get good dragons these days.


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

  7. “Then she took the guy by the hand and led him into the Unisex bathroom.” Angela sipped her mock Mai Tai. The fruity drink chased down her throat, sadly lacking that familiar burn. No alcohol while working. Perched on the barstool, she casually dropped her leg to give a little flash to the guys sitting at the next table over. One shifted on his chair. Bingo!

    Her partner, Patty leaned forward, her cleavage giving the guys a second visual to enjoy. “You’re kidding! What did her husband do?”

    Angela slowly smoothed a length of auburn hair over her shoulder and then locked eyes with Patty. “Just sat there, and watched.”

    Patty gave a low whistle as she eased back. “It’s that way with them, eh?”

    Angela nodded. “Oh yeah. She’s got a lipstick cam in her purse. Sets it on the closest counter and the show’s on.”

    Patty shook her head. “I can’t believe it. The high and mighty preacher of Rogersville likes to watch his not so prudish wife bang perfect strangers. Who’d a thunk it?” She tapped her nails on the tabletop, signaling two on the hook before squinting at Angela. “And you know this how?”

    Two of the guys stood up, headed their way. Angela smiled. Gotta love traveling businessmen with money and libidos burning holes in their pants.

    She brushed her fingers across her purse lying on the countertop and winked at Patty. “Who do you think sold them the lipstick cam?”

    246 Words

    1. its always the 'quiet' ones!
      I like the flow of this tale.

  8. Caleb just sat there and watched. No way was he getting between Sinjen and Sade.

    “Why do you persist in this folly?”

    “Folly? What the hell would you know?”

    “I know everything, Sade. I know life and death and your reckless disregard for both utterly terrifies me.”

    “I don’t live according to your rules.”

    “Not my rules. The rules laid down by the bloody Universe.”

    Sinjen could stay and strangle her or he could leave. He strode across the room with measured steps despite the fact the woman he worshiped was hellbent on destruction. He refused to stand by and watch.

    The door closed with a finality born of desperation.

    Sade stood flat-footed, her jaw hanging slack. Then she got pissed. Sinjen was acting like a two-year-old deprived of his favorite toy. She fumed. Idiot man. Stupid, controlling, maddening...vampire! He had no right to control her. She indulged in her own tantrum.

    “Fine, motherfucker. I revoke your invitation to my home!”

    Yeah, like her rant actually did anything. That was another one of those vampire myths the bloodsuckers liked to perpetuate. They didn't need fucking permission to enter anywhere they wanted. Sade refused to rub at the ache in her chest. A heart didn't hurt because you had a fight with your undead boyfriend. Lover. Whatever.


    “Jiminy, Sade. Don’t bite my head off because you aren't getting any tonight from Tall, Dark, and Fangy.”

    “Shut up, Caleb. Why are you here?”

    “I have a lead.”
    250 words

    1. Dark, sexy and full of fiery independence. I love it.

  9. Just was not having a great day. Sure, reincarnation was fun the first time around - at least until you realised that old head on young shoulders was also sitting on an equally young and not at all potty-trained butt. But this wasn't even his hundred and first time around and he was getting a little sick of it.
    He could grade the uteruses he'd stayed in like hotels and this one was definitely not five star. He hadn't even got the place to himself. He'd known she didn't like him - siblings rarely get on but she was taking it to extremes. Twice now, he'd woken to find she'd manoeuvred the cord round his neck and was ready to pull. And she was old - he could feel it. Much, much older than Just and more than human. Impossible to feel cold in the womb but Just shivered all the same. A few more days and he'd be outside. If he could last that long. He flinched as she twitched in his direction and he swore he saw her smile. He flapped his arm, angling his body to face her. Settling down for the long, sleepless haul, Just sat and watched...

    200 words @HayAddict

    1. I love your take on the prompt. Brilliant.

  10. They run all over the house. Now it is over. He grab her arm and push her it to the wall. He could see that she was afraid.
    ‘No more running Anna. No more lies!’ he yells at her.
    She slowly stand up and walk backwards. Her deep blue eyes were all in tears.
    ‘No, I can’t!’ she yelled back. She hit the corner with her body. Her hands were shaking and her body wasn’t listening to her anymore. She can’t run any more.
    ‘Tell me the true. Show me who you are. Let me help you.’ he try to sad it in calm voice. His heart was racing fast. What she will be? Which creature is hiding in her?
    She looked in his eyes. She saw that he is not lying. Nobody ever wanted to help her. She slowly step forward and put her arms up.
    She started to talk in some strange language that he could not understand. Her skin become lighter and some lines appeared on it. He could feel energy coming from her. Her body lifted from the floor and start slowly spinning around. Lines start to dance on her skin. Changing colors. He could see stones appearing on her back. Like a diamonds, but in beautiful red color. Five stones. Powerful girl. Just sat there and watched. She became the most beautiful creature he had seen.

    Words: 231

  11. Poker Night
    250 Words
    Donnie tossed his dreads behind his shoulder and flopped into the cafe’s patio chair. I threw a stack of bills on the table. “There you go, D. Now we’re square.”

    He grinned. “So, you won big at Jenn’s poker game? I expected it to devolve into a screaming match.”

    “Oh, it did.” I closed my notebook and twisted my greying hair into a bun. “Followed by some shoving. Then Jenn grabbed Steph and planted a brutal kiss on her. Next thing, Steph’s ripping Jen’s clothes off and throwing her down on the table.”

    “Holy hell.”

    “Indeed.” I sipped at my coffee. “Money and poker chips flew everywhere. Except, of course, for the bits that stuck to Jen’s ass.”

    “So,” Donnie waved the money at me. “Did you steal this from the pot and dash?”

    “Ha! No. We all just sat there and watched. I mean, no one expects live porn at a poker game.”

    “You watched the *whole* thing?”

    “Well, it *was* a quickie.” I shrugged and turned my face to the sun. “And I was in for big money.”

    “So what did Jenn and Steph say?”

    “Mostly grunting, ‘Oh God’, and ‘Yesyesyes!’”

    “No, dumbass.” Donnie backhanded my shoulder, and I laughed. “After.”

    “Absolutely nothing. Picked the poker chips, cards, and money off Jen’s backside and threw their clothes back on.”

    “And just kept playing.”

    “Yep. Those bills you’re waving around could be covered in Jen’s sex sweat.” I flashed him a smile. “Consider it interest on the debt.”

    1. Good flow here of a tale within a tale. Love it.

  12. "Justice ought to be taken
    Up till now its just not been fair
    Sitting there
    Totally indifferent yet benign
    'Sitting down on the job'
    Attention was required
    Today has been so busy.
    Tickets, treats and drinks
    Have to be sold
    Every customer made to feel like gold
    Rather than a last minute panic
    Each item needed to be ready-made
    And to hand!
    Not him though...
    Drinks needed filling
    "Waste not" he said
    As he just sat there and watched!
    Today ought to have been our best day
    Customers wowed by our skill
    Here they've vowed to return
    Even though he just sat there and watched
    Did they think it was part of an act?"

  13. Not guilty.
    How can that be? I don’t understand, the words jumbled in my mind, mocking at my sanity. But I saw his grin, a wink of his eye and I just sat there and watched, watched him seize his new found freedom with both hands. Watched him celebrate, his face all lit up at the chance he had been given, the chance to wring freedom with both hands before stamping his size twelves all over it, like he’d done before.
    He smiled. I shivered.
    I should have spoken louder, not the pathetic whimper of a coward.
    Too late now as his hand was on my shoulder, his grip like a vice.
    “Time to go home babe,” he said.
    I looked to his shattered victim, too dazed to even shed a tear. Too numb to feel. Her freedom gone.
    My freedom all but a dream as he squeezed my hand.
    Home. I couldn’t believe he was found not guilty. I wanted freedom, a new life from him, suitcase already packed. But a guilty verdict escaped common sense and justice today. And he’d see the suitcase. See my betrayal. And I, I would see the blur of his size twelve.


    1. Oh no I hope she escapes, he sounds terrifying.

  14. Tristan Weaver slid the finished survey across the break room table to her friend, Clover.

    “Are you seriously going to submit that comment?” Clover asked, her blue eyes wide.

    Tris shrugged. “Why not? It’s true. I haven’t seen a single female character come out of this company that wasn’t drawn like the average teenage boy’s wank fantasy. Giant, gravity-defying boobs, waists so small they couldn’t possibly hold up those chests and giant bubble asses—all I’m suggesting is a little diversity. A more realistic view of women in video games. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

    Clover just sat there and watched as Tris leaned forward, warming to the subject.

    “And while they’re at it,” she continued, “they could give these chicks some armor. All the male characters have full protection. The best a female character gets is maybe a crop top version of a breastplate and a Xena skirt. That tells me they’re there for visual interest for guys—not as viable characters.”

    “Hey, now. There are some girls,” Clover said, pointing at herself, “who dig a scantily clad female as much as any guy.”

    Tris smiled. “I know, but don’t you get tired of having one ideal shoved down your throat all the time?”

    Clover nodded, her pink and purple pigtails bouncing. “I do, but I’m just worried about expressing that opinion here.


  15. good subject matter, well told.

  16. “Talk to me, babe.” His breath heated my skin.

    “She’s still alive,” I said. “They’re never alive.”

    Not true. One case. One brief moment when I’d seen a different outcome.

    And lost it.

    “Look at me.” He turned me around, rough, desperate hands framing my face. “I’ve never known another like you. You track these bastards down and bring closure.”

    “Only people who’ve lost need closure.”

    His eyes narrowed.

    “People like you.” He dipped his head. “You need closure for the one who got away.”

    “I just sat there and watched. Like fucking reality TV.”

    Adam’s hand clenched around mine. I knew too well the horrors my mind revealed to him.

    “There is no reality where you should have to see the things you see.” He ran his thumb over the pulse in my wrist. “Seeing the aftermath is damaging enough.”

    “I should have done something. Saved her.”

    “Riley.” Frustration laced my name. “Who put that idiocy in your brain?”

    “I knew her killer. She was his first, but I’d seen the monster inside.”

    “You are not to blame.”

    “Maybe.” I leaned into his hand, needing the connection. Our pasts, our dreams and fears, every last random thought, blended together. “I need atonement.”

    “Saving Kait will give you that?”

    “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Maybe not.”

    “Okay.” He huffed out a breath.

    “Will you be here with me, either way?”

    “You’re in my every thought, Riley Black.” He drew me into his embrace, one hand slipping beneath my hair. “You already know.”

    250 WIP words

  17. A cold metal table wasn't exactly a comfortable place to lay my head. Then again, Lt. Michealson screaming at me wasn't great, either.

    “You mean to tell me you just sat there and watched? God! Why do I always get stuck trying to keep your fucking ass out of jail?”

    I shrugged. “For the record, I didn’t just 'sit there and watch’. I got beaten to a fucking pulp for trying to save the guy. But keep thinking me the bad guy; I know that gets you off at night.”

    “If it wasn’t illegal, I’d strangle you.”

    I raised my head, peering at the rotund officer through one eye. “Ohh…threats. Classy.”

    Michealson's face darkened. His thick hands clenched. The table levitated when he slammed his fist on it.

    “Look. Probation means you have rules to follow. Getting high on heroin, delivering heroin, getting into a fight and having some guy nearly OD on the heroin you sold him violates that probation. And now you’ve got an attempted murder charge on you. Do you enjoy being a convicted felon at the age of twenty?”

    “Not really.”

    Michealson brown eyes gored me, his ruddy cheeks glistening with sweat. “You like pissing me off, don’t you?”

    Totally. Aloud, I deadpanned: “Not at all.”

    Michealson panted, knuckles white where he gripped the gun-metal grey table. Grey stone walls shook with the force of the door slamming. I lowered my head to the table, cold seeping into my bruised, swollen face. Fuck you, too, Michealson.

    250 words

  18. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week. There will be NO #THURSTHREADS next week as it's the Thanksgiving holiday and I'll be with family. See you in two weeks.


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