Week 29 of #ThursThreads had some great tales! Thanks to all who entered this week. I'm honored to see all of you and read your stories. And it was great to have some new "faces" join us along with our returning regulars. Great thanks also goes to judge Gem Sivad for reading all the tales.
Entries:
- Robin Abess | @Angelique_Rider
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Jeffrey Hollar | @Klingorengi
- Charles Jones | @ChuckWesJ
- Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
- Mark Ethridge | @LurchMunster
- David Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Lisa McCourt Hollar | @jezri1
- Kay Phoenix | @KayPhoenix_
- Jeff Tsuruoka | @JTsuruoka
- Sarah Aisling | @SarahAisling
Winners Announcement:
Honorable Mentions
Jeffrey Hollar | @Klingorengi
Gem says: I was particularly pulled into this piece by the first lines,
"Jeremiah’s mount crested the hill and he pulled up short... “They’re down
there somewhere close..." This opener set the mood and established the paranormal
parameters as references were made to signing a treaty so that the
travelers could establish contact with the other "humans". Through dialog the author does some very nice world building. I
wanted to read more about the seven foot rabbit wearing armor.
Jeff Tsuruoka | @JTsuruoka
Gem says:
This author handled the first person POV well, pulling me
into the story with writing that is fast paced and focused. The
story begins with a vivid passage leading to a very brutal execution of a
"childhood friend" and the action of the scene very clearly
illustrates the clinical emotionless approach of the assassin. I would continue
reading this piece.
Week 29 Winner
Gem says: This author used precision writing, paring away every spare word
to create an unforgettable scene. The dialogue very adeptly showed her
heroine's emotions, revealing the circumstances of her anguish one sentence at
a time. "A weaker woman might have softened, might have
leaned..." “Tell me I’m not giving my life away for nothing...”
I honestly felt as though I'd read a much longer piece when I finished.
A voice reached through the darkness and I closed my eyes at the sound of my name.
“I’m not in the mood for company right now,” I said.
From this vantage, I could just watch. I didn’t have to participate, didn’t have to smile when every laugh and cheer ripped away something vital. Their joy would never be mine and I hated them for it.
“I know I should leave,” he said.
I didn’t want to be drawn in, especially by him.
Firm hands settled on my shoulders and drew me back against an equally firm chest. A weaker woman might have softened, might have leaned.
I wanted to lean.
Instead, I blessed my stringent military life and stubborn pride for keeping my back straight and tall.
“Tell me they take this seriously.”
Below us, people partied with conviction. I needed to know my path mattered to them. To someone. Acid burned in my gut.
“Of course they—”
I cut him off. “Tell me I’m not giving my life away for nothing.”
The hands on my shoulders clenched, hard enough to bruise. I welcomed the ache, letting it chase away friendlier sensations. Like the warmth of his touch, the scent of his skin, the tease of his breath at my temple.
“He will love you.”
“For all the good it will do,” I said.
“You will love him, too.”
I turned and faced eyes burning with jealousy.
“No.” I pulled away, making the necessary break between us. “I won’t.”
“I’m not in the mood for company right now,” I said.
From this vantage, I could just watch. I didn’t have to participate, didn’t have to smile when every laugh and cheer ripped away something vital. Their joy would never be mine and I hated them for it.
“I know I should leave,” he said.
I didn’t want to be drawn in, especially by him.
Firm hands settled on my shoulders and drew me back against an equally firm chest. A weaker woman might have softened, might have leaned.
I wanted to lean.
Instead, I blessed my stringent military life and stubborn pride for keeping my back straight and tall.
“Tell me they take this seriously.”
Below us, people partied with conviction. I needed to know my path mattered to them. To someone. Acid burned in my gut.
“Of course they—”
I cut him off. “Tell me I’m not giving my life away for nothing.”
The hands on my shoulders clenched, hard enough to bruise. I welcomed the ache, letting it chase away friendlier sensations. Like the warmth of his touch, the scent of his skin, the tease of his breath at my temple.
“He will love you.”
“For all the good it will do,” I said.
“You will love him, too.”
I turned and faced eyes burning with jealousy.
“No.” I pulled away, making the necessary break between us. “I won’t.”
Congratulations FOUR TIME WINNER Cara, Jeff, and Jeff! Claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it! :) Please contact Gem Sivad through her website on how you can showcase your winning tales. Woot!
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shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all
the stories here and I hope to see you all back next week for #ThursThreads. :)
