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 355 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, MeWe, and Google Plus, etc.
Our Judge for Week 355:
Renaissance Woman, Newfie mom, and Romance Author, Silver James.
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And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
“They do everything together.”
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!
13 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together- Week 356”
Peas in a Pod
“Did you know them well?”
“Better than most, I suppose.”
“So, it didn’t surprize you…?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I mean, you never expect…”
“Au contraire. You should always expect…”
“That’s fine to say now. I mean, its not like they chewed each others food…”
“Don’t be gross.”
“I don’t think I’m being gross. It’s just…you could say…I did say…often… they do everything together…so if they weren’t actually joined at the hip, they sure gave that impression.”
So, they were close? Like a couple.”
“Not like how most couples are…and close doesn’t even begin to describe how they were. They were like…I don’t know…sardines.”
“Oil or water?”
“Sardines in a can…oil or water?”
“It doesn’t matter. Jammed together like…”
“Like you said…sardines.”
“Holy catfish…like anchovies…”
“Canned fish…can we agree on that?”
“Its your tiny fish metaphor.”
“It is. And like any metaphor, the intent is to convey an image of what you want to describe. They were to my mind almost indistinguishable each from the other. Oh, maybe that’s too extreme. No two people, even genetic twins, are the same. Still, they oozed…”
“Yes. Some sort of symbiotic, parasitic love.”
“That’s a trifle harsh!”
“It is. And I never would have said it to their faces. It just seemed that for all of their shared love, that they diminished each other with their sameness.”
“Its like a math formula. Two into one equals kaboom?”
“It was not a quiet ending. Propane love’s a bitch.”
My gaze kept sliding over to Matsuko where she sat curled up in a fluffy chair, reading. In all my centuries of living, I’d never met someone who researched and studied like she did. Hellwinds, even most of the wizards and witches I knew didn’t do this much reading.
But Matsuko said it calmed her and helped her find her center when she researched, and I had to admit she did seem calmer after everything that had happened. Being dragged to another world, learning she had powers, meeting a dragon and a goddess. Yeah, I could completely understand why she might be a bit out of sorts.
“Did I understand Tekhne correctly? Did she say she and the god Ignius both sponsored me to be here?”
I glanced up to meet Matsuko’s gaze. “Yes, that’s what she said.”
She frowned, something she did a lot. “Why? Do they do everything together?”
I laughed as I set the book aside. “No, not at all. In fact, I’m surprised they did this together. I doubt she’s forgiven Ignius for the loss of all the art and music when the Library of Sageshore burned the first time, and that was four hundred years ago.”
A look of horror crossed her face. “He burned the library?”
I shook my head. “No, but some of his priests forgot to extinguish their sacred flames after a ceremony, and the wind drove them into the stables. All that straw and whoosh! Bye-bye scrolls.”
246 ineligible #TeamRPG words
“They do everything together.”
“It isn’t like the girl has a choice about. She was pretty much sold into the family for the marriage. Has anyone actually asked if she wanted it? She looks miserable to me.”
“Cassandra.” Diego frowned as he glanced over at her. “Don’t start trouble. Not now. This is an important thing and while outdated, some families still hold values on it.”
Cass rolled her eyes. “You would think that considering how we have had to adjust to the modern world, people need to adjust their mindset. The outside will look on it as strange.”
“It is tradition.”
“He’s an abusive ass and I don’t want to see her be miserable. We aren’t the greatest of friends, but she deserves better.”
Her brother pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your coronation is next week. You can’t start trouble between the other families. They need to give their support for you to ascend.”
“Maybe I’ll make it a rule that you can’t marry your children off without their consent. If it was warring families, then it would be a whole different story and then we would have to mediate between the two idiots. This way, if someone gets married, it’s because they wanted to. Not because they are being made to.”
“Cass…” A long sigh. “No one will go for that. Or rather, you’ll have a hell of a time trying to get them to go for it.”
“We aren’t in the Dark Ages anymore, baby brother.”
“She’s been scribbling away on a sheet of paper she keeps hiding from us for three days now, Doctor. Even after I take her pencil, she finds another somewhere,” Nurse Cindy Nichols said.
“You check with her roommate? Barbara Whats-Her-Face? They do everything together. Maybe old Barb’s been getting them for her,” Dr. William Filbert asked.
“Barbara died a week ago, Doctor. Don’t you know?” But Filbert just tapped away at his tablet, scanning Eloise Silverman’s charts for her recent history of medications, therapies and behavioral analyses.
“Everything the same since we committed her before her trial. Okay, Cindy, give her a crayon and five milligrams of Haloperidol IM. Just keep a close eye on her so she doesn’t hurt herself. Or stab someone else twenty times in the eye. Oh, and bring me that drawing or whatever it is.”
“She’s due in group now, so we’ll flip her room and leave a new sheet of paper and a crayon while she’s there,” Nurse Nichols said.
Later, Filbert returned to his office. On his desk, he found a gray sheet of paper with a sticky note from Cindy Nichols attached.
“What the…?” Filbert said when he looked closer at the paper. He realized it wasn’t gray. Rather, it was covered edge to edge in writing. The same sentence, written hundreds of times, one atop the other. Filbert gave a long soft whistle and read it out loud: “My darling Peter, why won’t you see me?”
Tonk and I skidded to a stop, taking cover behind an overturned truck. Blaster fire flew above our heads as the drones advanced.
“Christ,” Tonk’s chest heaved as he sucked air into his lungs, and he reloaded. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, and a worried frown spread across his face.
“Jeb?” he said my name slowly. It was a warning.
“They have a weakness, you know,” I said.
“That right? Well, I sure don’t see it. All I see is unstoppable blaster fire. Take out one drone and another appears.”
“You haven’t noticed? They do everything together.”
Tonk’s expression told me a lot.
“Control says turn left; they turn left. Control says neutralize target—“
“Yeah, I get it. They’re doing a damn good job of neutralizing us.”
“That’s just it. One target. They can’t process multiple targets.”
Tonk stared at me.
“Look at them.” I pointed through the busted window. Tonk watched the advancing drones.
“They’re only shooting. They’re not aiming at anything.”
“So?” Tonk shook his head, “How’s that help us?”
“Remember the drone I took apart?”
“There’s a piece of code.” I stopped, realizing Tonk wouldn’t understand what I needed to do.
“If I can get to their programming, I can write a routine and force them to fire on their own command.”
“So, you need me to nab another drone for you?”
“Next time just ask. Back in a second.”
Tonk smiled and disappeared around the side of the truck.
The mist parted and Jamis appeared. He looked self-satisfied, as usual. He approached the chalice and bowed, first to Helene, then to the pillar bearing the cup.
“I do swear,” he intoned, “to offer myself in obeisance to the gods. To give up myself unto them and to let them do with me as they prefer.”
Helene stepped forward. She was already sky-clad and had daubed her face with the ceremonial bloods of the three sacrifices. The bodies of the chicken and the goat had been drained and their mutual outpourings collected in the pewter receptacle. The menses of the virgin had then joined them, the harvesting of this, the most holy of them all, having been left until last.
The priestess removed Jamis’ clothes. She cast his jacket aside, letting it fall at his feet. His trousers followed, pooling around his ankles. She let him step forward and then out of them, sloughing off his briefs with a single stroke of the knife she held. She turned to me and nodded, urging me to join the three of them.
“Do you, the daughter, support their petition?”
This was it, the turning point. If I assented, my mother would be forfeit, her future as an attendant of the court swallowed up in the act of commitment. She would be his and I would never see her again.
I took a sip from the cup, sealing her fate.
“From now,” I said, “they do everything together.”
245 words ~ twothirdsrasta.blogspot.com
Never did I dream I’d shout at Jesus for being in my personal space. Maybe it’s because my boyfriend is worshipped and revered by millions, maybe it’s because he’s immortal that he doesn’t understand personal space.
“Gah!” I throw my hands up and Jesus steps back. “You’re in my bubble! Again!”
His arms cross, black rubber bracelets dangling. His tye-dye shirt is all the wrong shades of blended pink and yellow and I’d love the cut that manbun off his head. For the first time in our long friendship, he glares at me.
“Look at my parents! And yours!” My eyes roll so hard I almost get dizzy. “They do everything together.”
I look toward the ceiling and the room gets oddly quiet. Having the Son of God as your boyfriend is tricky. When I yell God, that brings him in, which is awkward in bed.
“Don’t even!” Jesus says, his voice low and filled with dread. “I’m sorry!”
I lower my gaze, taking care to keep my face neutral; my expressions are sometimes louder than is good. Jesus keeps his glare firmly in place, the beard making him look businesslike. His brown eyes finally droop and he sighs.
“Thank you,” I say. “I love you but humans are exhausting.”
“I love you, too. I’ll try to remember that.”
We fall into a hug and then he walks home, right through my kitchen wall.
“I have doors!”
“Don’t need ‘em!”
I shake my head. He’s lucky I love him.
“We can’t take the cat. We’re a daycare, not a kennel.”
The pinch-faced man looked down his nose at Jinx with Blackie dangling from her arms. Jinx turned up to Esmé expectantly. The older girl’s fingers curled, though it was hard to tell who she wanted to strangle.
“Okay,” Esmé smiled, hands at her sides. “But they do everything together. Can you make an exception?”
“No. Pets.” The man enunciated with a slow emphasis Jinx guessed she’d be hearing a lot.
Esmé frowned down at Jinx and Blackie. She glanced at the man again. Then her gaze went over his shoulder. Finally, she crouched down to look Jinx in the eyes.
“I guess you’ll have to give Blackie to me.” Esmé rolled her eyes meaningfully toward the daycare. “He’ll be alright for the day.”
Jinx looked over the man’s shoulder at the skylight on top of the daycare. Turning with Blackie in her arms, she followed a tree close to the building back down and to Esmé. Jinx checked with Blackie, who rumbled grudging acquiescence.
“I’ll miss you.”
Jinx solemnly passed her cat to her temporary guardian, who accepted him with both arms. It was hard not to laugh at Esmé and Blackie pretending to get along. She knew the high schooler was in a hurry to drop the cursed feline.
For the rest of the day, Jinx made sure to stay in view of the skylight as much as possible and angled her work to be visible from above.
250 Magical Girl AU words
Once a week, at least, we got together, and went to eat somewhere. That night, the girls wanted seafood, so we went to that restaurant on the pier. You can’t get seafood much fresher than that.
As always, one of the girls said, “Pit stop.” And they both headed to the restroom. Bob and I sat at the table, looking at the ocean of shrimp shells collected in the bucket in its middle.
“Why do they always go together?”
I’m sure Bob saw my look of terror, “Don’t ever ask them that!” It was a mistake I’d made. I’d asked Ginny, and she’d let me have it big time.
“But, they do everything together. Haven’t you noticed?”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” My brain was desperately trying to come up with a way to explain to Bob why they did everything together. “Well.” I looked in the direction they’d headed, “Did you watch them walk off?”
“Do you think other guys watched them?”
“Yeah. You know. Like…” I changed topic, and pointed at one of the waitresses, “Damn. Check out the buns on her.”
“What you just did?” I nodded, “Is why they do everything together.”
He looked confused.
“Bob. They get looked at by every guy. All the guys. Every day. Forever.”
I saw the cartoon light bulb over his head light up, “Woah.”
“Yeah, Bob. There’s safety in numbers.”
Neither of us said another word until the girls got back.
“Mrs. Jenkins, we’re only going to ask you one-”
“I told you! I don’t know where they woulda gone!” She smacked her hand off the metal table.
Detective Reynolds glanced to his partner. Kalk picked up the interrogation, “You’re really trying to tell us you don’t know where your son would go to hide out after robbing a bank and kil-”
“William would never kill anyone! It’s all that bitch’s fault, steering my boy down a path of crime. She made him do it! They do everything together since she came into the picture. She won’t even let him speak for himself!”
“Ma’am, by ‘this bitch’ you mean your daughter, correct?”
She shot him a vicious glare, sneering. “Stepdaughter. She’s my husband’s flesh and blood, not mine. Never mine.”
“Right…” Reynolds pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your…third husband?”
“What’s it matter what number he is? He’s gonna be an ex-husband soon.”
The snort of laughter that came from Kalk was passed off with a cough and apology. Reynolds couldn’t agree more though. This was one unhinged gold digger of a woman.
“Ma’am, let me put this plainly,” Reynolds continued. “If we have to find these two on our own there’s going to be a lot of cops that are trigger happy. Now I wouldn’t want your innocent boy to get caught in the crossfire. Would you?”
She frowned, still glaring, then huffed. “My boy better not come home full of bullet holes. You swear that now?”
“Cross my heart.”
250 warrants for arrest
“You should look at Bea and Thomas, “ Brittani speaks to her husband as she watches their elderly neighbors walking home holding hands. Bea’s short white hair blows up against her husband’s face as he leans down to gently kiss the top of her head.
“Justin! Look at them. They are so sweet. Do you think we’ll be like them when we’re that age?”
Justin glances out in time to see the couple’s exchange, “I don’t know, Brittani. Maybe.”
“Maybe we should plan more things together. I mean, Bea and Thomas . . . they do everything together,” Brittani says.
“Remember, Beatrice, the neighbors are watching,” Thomas says quietly against the top of Bea’s head.
Bea feels the rub of metal against her wrist, “Why do I have to be handcuffed to you, Thomas? After all these years, you should know I won’t go anywhere.”
“I can’t trust you, Beatrice. You remember what happened last time we went out without them?”
“You made sure I wouldn’t forget, but that was years ago.”
“Beatrice, we’re almost to the door. Once we’re inside and the door’s locked, the cuffs can come off. As usual.”
“Yes, Thomas,” Bea sighs resignedly.
Brittani closes the curtain and turns back to Justin, “Let’s promise we’ll try to be more like them, okay?”
Reaching into his pocket, Justin feels the cold metal pressing against his fingers, “Sure, Brittani. I promise.”
#ThursThreads Week 356 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.