Week 335 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I'm honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale in our sixth year. If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you. If you’ve just found us, welcome! May you come back again and write more great flash. Thousand thanks to Angela Roe for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc.

Entries:

• Tina Glasneck | @TinaGlasneck
• Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears
• Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
• Mark A. Morris
• Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
• Eric Martell | @drmag00
• Silver James | @SilverJames_
• Patty Knowles | @pattydump1
• David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
• Kel J. Heinen | @Aightball
• Daelyn Morgana
• Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
• Mary Decker | @mishmhem

Angela says: Well done to ALL who wrote this week. This crop of short stories were all amazing and I enjoyed reading all of your words. Thanks for sharing with me, and seriously...hats off to all of you.

Winners Announcement:

Honorable Mentions

Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
Angela says: I could totally relate to the despair Poor Jimmy Kavanaugh is feeling. I have close friends with the last name so I get it. I also love that it's a complete story. The Capulet line made me laugh.

Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears
Angela says: Great story, so creepy, and I really want to read the rest of it.

Silver James | @SilverJames_
Angela says: I have to say, this was close. I nearly called this one the winner. The clear discomfort, the hurt and anger, and the "Oh HELL no" attitude of our pearl wearing main character are so strong in this little gem. I love it. Well written, tight, and that last line..."I didn't look back." Power, right there. Love it.

There is a theory, the king said, that every decision creates multiple universes, one for each possible choice. When you choose grape jelly over strawberry jam or orange marmalade for your breakfast toast, you create three universes – one where you enjoyed each flavor.

That’s silly, said the queen. That means there would be an infinite number of universes, some differentiated by things as insignificant as toast toppings and others by major choices, such as whether to start a war. Who, she said, would sort it all out?

Well no one, said the king. They would just all exist simultaneously.

All higgledy-piggeldy? The queen asked. That seems frightfully inconvenient.

Well it doesn’t affect anyone, you see, continued the king, because while they’re all out there, we only exist in one.

The others are all empty?

No, no. There are copies of us in each, each copy having followed a different path into a different universe. That’s what I was thinking about, this morning, that there must be billions of me out there, each living slightly different lives. I feel like maybe that’s what our dreams are, visitations from other universes where there are other versions of ourselves.

Have you learned anything from these other versions of you, asked the queen.

Not yet. All they do is glare at me, so I don’t know much about them. But they sure don’t seem to like me, said the king, who then started a war just to feel better about himself.

Congratulations Ten Time Winner Eric, and Honorable Mentions Bill, Mark, and Silver! Don't forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!

Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, Google Plus, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! :)

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing. We’ve reached our Sixth year of weekly prompts! This is Week 335 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Group on MeWe.

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.
• The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed.

Rules to the Game:

• This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
• The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added.
• 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 in the post (or be excluded from judging)
• Include your Twitter handle or email in the post (so we don’t have to look for 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, etc.

Our Judge for Week 335:

Grandmother, corgi mama, and romance author, Angela Roe.

Angela on Facebook
Angela on Twitter
Angela on Google Plus

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“But they sure don’t seem to like me.”
 
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!

Welcome to Flash Fiction...Inspired by a Melody. It's October and it SNOWED in Cheyenne! Like five inches of the white stuff! It's early and that's crazy. I'm part of a fantastic group of exceptional authors who do a monthly flash fiction blog display. All of them are excellent writers and I highly recommend visiting their blogs. This time the story was inspired by TOWERS FALL INTO THE SEA by Clocks & Clouds, and you can listen/watch the video HERE.

~~~~~~~
Theo stared moodily at the coffeemaker as it percolated the magical black gold that gave him a will to be awake in the early spring morning. It was after eight and the sun was just now gracing the late April streets of Three Lakes, Michigan. He didn’t do mornings unless it was summer, and it definitely wasn’t summer yet. Snow still hid in the corners where the sun didn’t quite reach and the air contained a bite of winter that made him sleepy.

That’s the problem with being a bear shifter.

And the oldest bear shifter in Three Lakes, to boot. There weren’t many of his kind left in the world overall, much less in a little Upper Peninsula Michigan town. It made for a lonely life.

The coffeemaker dinged and he sighed with relief. Finally, and just in time, too.

He poured his coffee, added cream and a dash of honey, and headed to the front of his clock repair shop to flip the sign to open. And to listen to the music.

Let’s be honest. It’s not just the music that has you up so damn early.

No, it was the person who played the music that got his motor revving. And the coffee.

Osera Rockwell rented the shop next to his on Main Street for a 3D art gallery. He’d often stopped to look through the window at her creations, intrigued by her use of old junk to make wondrous figures and images. She had a whimsical style to her art, with a Steampunk slant that made him think of times past when steam engines were all the rage.

Loud, dirty things.

But what he liked most was Osera herself. She wore top hats with goggles made from the same cast-off junk she used in her art and corsets over her peasant blouses, wonderfully outlining her breasts. The skirts with garters tied with ribbons above knee-high boots weren’t bad, either. He loved when she wore her long-tailed coat that floated around her like an extra skirt. Made him hard as a rock, but he didn’t mind. It felt good to feel something at least.

The building that housed their two shops had brass grates in the adjoining walls and they could be opened to allow for heat and air flow between the shops. As far as he knew, Osera had never closed hers. Theo reached up to open his side and allow the sound of her music to enter his shop. Today she’d picked a cello-violin instrumental piece that reminded him of someone searching for something or working on a project with intense focus. Like Osera often does. He couldn’t see her through the grate, but he imagined her dancing in her flared skirt and knee-high boots.

His cock hardened at the thought and he moaned in the back of his throat as he closed his eyes, savoring the image with his coffee.

Until the bell above the door chimed and someone came in his shop.

Theo jerked his eyes open and he managed to dart around the counter, hiding the erection tenting his jeans. He looked up with his best non-committal expression and met the glacier-blue eyes of his beautiful neighbor Osera.

Fuck a gomphothere! Nothing like showing the woman he’d wanted to impress his boner.

“What are you doing here?” Okay, not his most cordial greeting.

“Good morning to you, too, Theo.” Osera raised an eyebrow along with her smile. “Did I come at a bad time?”

“Uh, no. No, I just haven’t had enough coffee.” He cleared his throat and tried to think about something other than her breasts straining her shirt above her corset. “What can I do for you, Osera?”

“I was wondering if you could come and help me?”

I’d like to come in you. He gritted his teeth lest the thought escape his mouth. “Help you how?”

“I need you to help me move something. It’s heavy and I need to put it up high. I’m not quite strong enough.” She gave him a hopeful look. “To make it worth your while, I have freshly made cinnamon buns with honey-lavender glaze. Please?”

He couldn’t resist her request any more than he could resist the cinnamon buns. He just hoped she wouldn’t notice his dick pointing at her the whole time. Because while he had control over most aspects of his life, reining in his attraction for Osera Rockwell, the Steampunk artist who collected teddy bears, wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah. Okay. Lead the way.” And don’t look back.

Yeah, he probably wouldn’t be that lucky.
~~~~~~~

A little inspiration for Theo and Osera. There you have it. Stop by the following other flash fiction authors below and happy reading.

• Bronwyn Green
  
• Gwen Cease