Thursday, January 22, 2015

#ThursThreads - Tying Tales Together - Week 152

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 152 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. If you're able to join us, we're here. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook. 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 152:

Weekend Writing Warrior, Photographer, and Suspense author, F. C. Etier.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

"Nothing with a zipper?”

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. Body disposal used to be simple the Russian once considered buying a pig farm for that very reason. In his home country, this wasn’t an issue. Only in America, with its honest cops, forensic scientists, and prudish sensibilities. He watched Digger and Easy roll the Hell Dog formally known as Lumpy into a plastic tarp and slap Velcro straps around it.

    “Nothing with a zipper?”

    Finishing the last strap, Easy explained. “Asshole’s too fat to stuff in a standard duffle, boss. We woulda had t’cut ’im up. Gets messy.”

    Digger, the MC’s enforcer, snorted. “Seems the president of the club said to get our fuckin’ asses out here ASAP. We grabbed what we had.”

    Sergei released an exaggerated sigh. “I miss the old days.”

    The enforcer’s guffaw rang so loud the murder of crows gathered in the tree above them erupted into the dawn sky. “Fuck, Serge. In the old days, we woulda just shifted and ate the motherfucker.”

    “Ah, but we have a message to deliver, yes?”

    “Damn straight.” Easy no longer resembled his name. “They touch one of our mates again, we’ll burn the fuckers alive.”

    The smile Sergei allowed himself did not reach the flat darkness in his eyes. “Yes. We will send them all to Hell, but first, we find the one called Fallen Angel. We will see what this devil does against Wolves. Time for a social call.”

    After dumping the body at the Hell Dog’s clubhouse, Sergei decided disposal wasn’t so hard after all.
    250 words

    1. From Silver James:
      Argh. I need to edit closer. The opening lines should read:

      Body disposal used to be simple. The Russian once considered buying a pig farm for that very reason.


    2. Thanks for fixing my reply to my entry, Siobhan. I never hit the right button. LOLOL :D

  2. “What’s this?” I asked disgusted.
    “It’s called a dress, D.R.E.S.S.,Virgina,” Rea said.
    "Nothing with a zipper?”
    “Quit being sarcastic. This is important.”
    “I know.”
    The red dress barely covered my breasts and rear. Going to the bar as instructed I sat on the stool waiting for him. Tall, dark haired with flashing blue eyes he was most girl’s dream date.
    “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
    His back turned, I slipped the drug in his drink, luring him back to our house. He then passed out in the living room. Rea tied him up with my help and we dragged him to the basement.
    “Why am I here?” he asked when he awoke.
    “Remember me?” Rea asked.
    “Wrong answer, Drake.” Rea said kicking him, “I don’t even like guys, but you didn’t care.”
    “You didn’t protest and neither did any of the other women I dated. The court didn’t convict me.”
    “No they didn’t, but a bunch of them are anxious to meet with you again. Come in girls,” Rea cried.
    I let the twenty women into the room. Drake heard them and blanched, “I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again,”
    “You’re right, you’ll never do it again,” Rea responded.
    The next day I read in the paper local comedian Drake Ashburn was found dead in a ditch. Police search for the killer or killers. Anyone with information contact...and I shivered. I had protected my wife, Rea and other women from a monster, but at what cost?
    250 words

  3. When one has a teenage girl in the house, shopping becomes your thing, like it or not. Two more years and she can drive herself to the mall. Normally I'd beg off to the bookstore, but this time she's shopping for a prom dress and I'm the bank.

    "Eliza? You ready?" I call.

    "The dress won't stay up. Can they make nothing with a zipper?"

    "You've turned down several dresses with zippers."

    I thought all dresses came with zippers, but what do I know? I don't wear them.

    "Dad, I'm coming out. Don't look."

    She walks out in a champagne-colored, dress with a fitted waist and glittery, flowing skirt. The bodice is a little big, but that's fixable.

    "I like this one," I say.

    "Daaad! I said don't look!" I turn around. "It's too big."

    "No it's not. We can have the bodice taken in."

    She sighs. "I do like it. Even without the zipper."

    "What do you mean there's no zipper, by the way?"

    "Oh, turn around. You've seen me anyway."

    I look at the back of the dress. In place of a zipper there are several tiny buttons. Somehow she managed to button most of them. I move forward and offer to finish buttoning the dress. Once I do, the bodice is a perfect fit.


    She smiles. "I'll take it! Will you help me button it on prom night?"

    Looking at my gargantuan hands, I shrug. "Of course I will. Let's go buy your dress."

    248 words

  4. (@lindorfan)

    "so here we are. We'll take a wander around and meet in the cafe in an hour."
    "okay sounds good sweetheart"
    See you in a while"
    Both Suzie and Tim began to wander towards different stores when Tim called back "Nothing too tricky"
    Susie looked back and nodded with a smile before entering her favourite clothes store. She admired the beautiful sexy tops and summery skirts with a little jealousy. She glanced in mirror as she passed and sighed moved onwards of her search.
    Three stores later Susie had had enough so she gave up and headed for some caffeine.
    Tim hadn't had much luck either until he tried yet another store where he asked the assistant to assist "It needs to be something easy to get into." The assistant thought quickly then disappeared. After a short while the assistant returned beaming. "Nothing with a zipper?” Tim inquired. The assistant assured him it was zipper less and Tim paid his dues with satisfaction. They were supposed to hunt for the gift separately and then confer but this was perfect!
    As soon as she spied Tim Susie ordered another mocha and a latte for Tim. "So you have found something?" Tim placed the bag on her lap and waited. Peeping inside she smiled "its perfect, after all it worked for us didn't it"
    Susie and Tim finished the coffees and left hand in hand each one reminiscing of their lush secret.

  5. “Are you out of your mind?” he hisses in my ear.

    “What do you mean?” I ask.

    A hand wraps around my waist from the behind, pulling my back to a very firm body. “Tell me you’re not planning to go inside dressed like this.”

    I turn around to look into his troubled eyes. “We’re dealing with the mob here. They don’t really open up their doors for girls who look like cops you know?”

    He closes his eyes and lays his forehead on mine. “I just ... I don’t like the idea of you in the middle of this shit.”

    His voice makes my heart skip a beat. “You just don’t like me wearing something so exposing in front of anyone but you,” I tease him, trying to lighten up the mood.

    It works. A smile plays on his lips as he tugs my head to his for a kiss. “You sure you have nothing with a zipper that covers all of you?”

    “Hey,” I speak softly, placing a hand on his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

    Forty minutes later as I step into his arms, I grin up at him. “Told you. Zippers wouldn’t have made it this easy.”

    He kisses me fervently before holding me close to his chest. “Zippers or not, you’re never pulling a stunt like that again.”

    I roll my eyes at my partner in the FBI. “You got it. Now tell me you love me.”

    “As if there ever was a doubt,” he says.

    Word Count: 250
    Twitter Handle: @TwiAddictAnne

  6. Drake wrapped his arm around the small of Aliandra's back and drew her close as the musicians launched into a fun and lively piece that mixed jig with slow dance. He inhaled the delicious scents of her as he steered her around the floor. Sweet Goddess, she smells better than I remember.

    “Are you going to talk to me or just dance there, staring and sniffing?”

    Drake blinked. “I’m sorry, Dr. Cantora.”

    “That name is Aliandra and I didn’t think we’d gone back to being so formal.” A frown creased her brow.

    “I wasn’t sure you’d come to the party since you knew I’d be attending.”

    “Just because you were a jackass doesn’t mean I’ll restrict my actions or my joys.” She shook her head. “Never mind. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

    Aliandra tried to pull out of his arms, but Drake held fast, his fist tightening on the cloth of her dress at her back. I guess I should be glad she wore nothing with a zipper. Although the zipper would have given him a better grip.

    “I won’t apologize because you’ve told me you’re tired of hearing it.”

    “I’m tired of hearing you apologize and then repeating your actions.” Aliandra shrugged, her expression resigned.

    “I know. I’m trying to do better, but I can’t seem to stay away from you.” Drake shook his head. “I don’t understand it. For all my centuries as a vampire, you’d think I’d have learned some form of control."

    248 ineligible #WIP500 words

  7. The sleek velvet dress slid over her curves, tightly holding in the problem areas and accenting her assets. Twirling in the changing room, she checked out how the cut featured her muscular legs. Ooooh, perfect to grab Nate’s attention.

    One last check of the price tag, and she couldn’t believe it was under budget. Maybe she’d stop by the lingerie department on the way out.

    Satisfied, she grabbed the hem and lifted. It stopped—right at her chest/shoulder area. Confined. Stuck. Her arms trapped within the clothing.

    How could it go on, and not want to come off?

    Julia shifted a shoulder, trying to get some leeway. Velvet should give, right? Head covered in black cloth, like a shroud in a coffin.

    No air. She couldn’t breath. Her heart raced, and sweat beaded on the back of her neck. She’d never get out. She’d die here at the discount store, done in by her ego. Maybe it would go back down, and she could step out of it.

    Nothing. “Fuuuuck!”

    Knocking. “Everything going all right in there? Everything fit.” Damn perky sales clerk!

    “Umm, OK,” Julia said. Did she dare? “I might need help.”

    She shuffled toward the door, leaned over and opened it. “I’m stuck.”

    “Did you unzip the dress?”

    “There is Nothing. With. A. Zipper.”

    It’s along the side, tucked into the hem.”

    She stilled. “No. Can you pull it off? Please.”

    The other woman yanked.

    “Thanks,” Julia said, her face flushed red. “I’ll take it.”

    249 words

  8. The Zipper Man Blues
    A.J. Walker

    “Hey, Keith Richards, here you go.” Callie said, as she passed over the beer to Sands.

    “Hardly,” sad Sands, pushing the green leather clad guitar case around the table. “Just a bit of a strummer. And not a very good one at that.”

    “That case is a beauty. Most the lads coming in here use those floppy faux plastic bags. A bit lighter and easier to store though.” Callie said.

    “A damn site cheaper too, I know. But I just can’t do zips anymore,” said Sands, looking to the floor.

    “Really? Nothing with a zipper?” said Callie.

    “Not since the accident.” said Sands, wincing a little then overtly checking his buttoned fly.

    Callie looked across the empty bar, struggling not to ask a follow up question.

    Sands filled the silence. “Zips are for the brave or stupid. I mean, basically why take the risk? I sleep much better this way.”

    “Velcro, it’s the future.” said Callie, as she walked back down the bar. She couldn’t suppress an embarrassed smile.

    Sands crossed his legs and took a deep slug out of the bottle remembering times when he had more fastening options.

    (190 words)


  9. “Nothing with a zipper?” He stood behind her, two fingers resting on the curve of her shoulder.

    Tonya stared straight ahead, her skin twitching underneath the tight latex. It had taken longer than she had liked to get into, which caused her to be late for her appointment. It was supposed to be therapy. Learning not to be so controlling. Giving someone else the control. “No, sir.”

    What was she thinking? This wasn’t her kink. She didn’t know what her kink was. She definitely wasn’t sure if this was going to help. Especially when it came as a recommendation from her therapist.

    “Good. Stand still.” He walked away and she could hear metal jingling. She felt the leather encircle her neck and secure it.

    Tonya jerked, one hand reaching up to pull at the collar.

    “Hand DOWN!” His voice was sharp.

    She jerked and snapped her hand back her side, fingers curling.

    “Relax your fingers. This is to help you be more receptive to other opinions. “ The Master reached out and took her hand, gently unfolding her fingers. “You need to realize that you can’t be in control of everything. No matter what we do, the tighter we get a choke hold on our own life, the more straps we put on ourselves. I will teach you to lose the tight grip before you strangle your life. It’s okay to be a little wild.”

    235 words

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

  11. Scribbling Pencil was the last entry prior to the deadline.
    This comment is being posted at 10:04 P.M. EST.
    Thanks to everyone who participated.
    Results will be posted tomorrow morning before 8:30 A.M. EST.
    I enjoyed being judge.


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