#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 526

Welcome back to the home of Paranormal & Dauntless Romance. Wow. Year 10. A whole decade. I’m astounded.

Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing, like we have for 10 whole years. It’s amazing we’ve gone this long! This is Week 526 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 526:

Dead Thing Specialist, Mining Geologist, and Original Book Boyfriend, George Varhalmi.

Facebook |

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“You know why I’m here.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Comments do not represent the views of the host and the host reserves the right to remove any content. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

10 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 526”

  1. The Change the Channel Case

    It had been a long day. I’d spent it following Lacey Lassiter, a soccer mom of sorts who her husband, Chiropractor, Lance Lassiter, suspected of playing the field. If she was having multiple affairs, it certainly wasn’t happening today.

    Don’t get me wrong, she was a busy lady. A three-hour hair appointment, a two-hour lunch, a three-hour tennis lesson, and a four-hour late afternoon shopping spree.

    I didn’t know about her, but I was exhausted.

    I went back to the office to make a few notes, poured a jigger of brandy, put my feet up on the desk and turn on the tube, caught some news, and reflected on how easy it was to make money following semi-rich people.

    Easy and meaningless.

    I was in a dick-funk.

    It was the first day of September and I had frittered it away.

    The day and the whole summer.

    As I watched the terrible floods in Pakistan, my office door opened, and I almost fell off my chair.

    Lacey Lassiter occupied my doorframe like she was Mona Lisa. She had a humongous grin like the cat that had swallowed the private eye canary.

    “You know why I’m here, Peeper?”

    I considered a number of possible answers, but none seemed to do justice to her surprise appearance in my quiet brandy-fueled world.

    I went with stupidity. “Not a clue, Lady. Who’re you?”

    She turned out the light, unplugged the television, and proved her husband’s mistrust.

    With ethically challenged me.

    250 Words


  2. “I think Mr. Crowe’s had enough excitement for the moment. How about you all come out into the hall as I explain his prognosis?” The doctor’s expression was placid, but Iliana read sorrowful compassion in every line of his body.

    “We’ll be right outside, honey.” Cecilia squeezed Taggart’s hand before she rose.

    “Get a little rest, son.” Emmett’s eyes were sad, but he smiled for Taggart’s benefit.

    “Ivory, can you…please stay a moment?”

    Iliana nodded despite the doctor’s frown of disapproval. “Sure.”

    “Don’t tire him out, Ms. Ivory.”

    “I won’t.” She gave him her best fake smile because she would stay as long as Taggart wanted her there. She settled into the chair his mother had vacated as the rest of the folks left the room. “I’m here, Taggart. But I do have a question.”

    “Oh? What’s that?” He raised his eyebrows.

    “Do you know why I’m here? I’m not family, I’m not even a particularly long-term close friend. Why did you want me here, Taggart?”

    “Because you’re one of the few…who really knew…me in Hollywood. A true…friend.” He grimaced behind the mask. “I need…I need…”

    “What do you need?” She squeezed his hand.

    “I needed to tell you…I thought over…your request, and I’ll do…my best to fulfill it.” He looked up at her, his eyes as sad as his father’s. “But the way I…feel, I don’t think…I’m going to make it…I know you lost a friend…just before filming Outback Dreams…and this isn’t fair to you now…I’m really sorry, Iliana.”

    250 ineligible #IvoryRoad words

  3. She prodded him with her miniature hammer, checking out his swollen jawline. “Do you know why I’m here?” she asked, hovering directly over his nose. “Take a stab in the dark. Go on.”

    Jacob opened his eyes a fraction. He looked suspicious, confused, all the things she’d expected. The status of their relationship had been dramatically rewritten; it had been quite a surprise to her too.

    “You’re like a flying bug. With the tiniest, little toolkit.” He peered at her myopically, his brain running at half speed. It was understandable, given the circumstances. He’d not slept for three days and was physically wrecked.

    “You’re getting there. You’re so very close.” Esme zipped across his bed, swooping above his pillow and then raising it with a wiggle of her nose. “But you’ve left nothing here for me, not tonight,” she continued. “Not unless you’re holding back. I’d hate it if I couldn’t follow through with someone I knew.”

    Jacob’s jaw dropped, drool running down his chin. That was the moment he realised. Almost.

    “You look exactly like Esme,” he drawled, his synapses finally firing. “But about a million times smaller.”

    Esme zoomed in front of his face, her wings blurring. She pulled a pair of scaled-down pliers from the fanny pack hanging around her waist.

    “You can go off someone.” She buzzed, wasplike, her eyes cold specks of aquamarine. “You’ll be saying this Tooth Fairy transformation makes my abdomen look thick next,” she snarled, coshing him with her sack of molars.

    250 words – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com

  4. Meg wrapped the towel around herself but used one corner to wipe steam off the mirror. She looked…haggard. Unsurprising considering she’d spent weeks getting out of Ukraine. At least she was in shape now. A rueful laugh escaped. Turning away, she marched over to the bed. A small pile of clothes was neatly stacked there, provided by Duke’s beautiful wife. Evidently, once she’d gotten word they were safe, she’d gone on a buying spree. All the kids had new clothes.

    She shook out a long skirt and admired the bright colors and silky feel. There was a blouse that went with it, and a shawl. This was date stuff. Like going out with the man of her dreams stuff. Yes, she was delusional. They’d landed. She and the kids had been herded onto a small bus where they’d been checked by doctors, fed, and then placed in these barracks. She hadn’t seen Kin in twenty-four hours.

    Folding the outfit carefully, she set it aside, choosing soft fleece pants and a pullover instead. There’d be no dates for her. The mission was over. She’d be flying out in a day or two—once she made sure all the kids would be taken care of.

    The door opened on creaky hinges and she whipped around, holding the clothes in front of her like they’d protect her. Yeah, right. Nothing would protect her from the man standing there.

    “You know why I’m here,” Kin said.

    Okay, maybe not so deluded after all.
    250 HT Crossfire WIP words

  5. “Why?”

    Lord Saionji’s youngest son looked up at him intently. The lord smoothed his dress robes thoughtfully without rising from his crouch.

    “Well, these meetings can run very long, and they are very boring.”

    “Why?” Little Haru repeated.

    Lord Saionji’s elder children were offering no help and seemed similarly unimpressed by the prospect of being left behind.

    “We nobles have to discuss what has been happening in the whole empire so we can decide what our people and we should do next.”

    “But you promised to take us to the skyshore!” Akio interjected.

    Lord Saionji turned his firm, warm gaze on his middle son.

    “I never said that was today.”

    “You have been helping us monitor the conditions all week, and we have been talking about today, father.”

    Fuyuka, the eldest, spoke softly but with a coolness that didn’t come from either of her parents.

    Lord Saionji sighed, “Your mother and I are obliged to attend these events, you know.”


    “I’m here to escort you and Lady Saionji to the council,” I made my presence known.

    My lord rose to smile at me.

    “Ah, Sen. Actually, Lady Saionji and I will be going with Lady Yamato and her guard. Why don’t you take the children to the skyshore?”

    I fought down the urge to voice my objections but failed to contain a pained, “My lord…”

    The children’s eyes were now on me, and little Haru tugged at my haidate.


    241 Cat’s The Pajamas words

  6. For seventeen nights, Sword waited on that beach. He spent his eighteenth day like the previous seventeen. He fished. He walked in a circle for hours. It was fascinating to him how deep of a trench he’d made in the sand, walking that circle for eighteen days. He tidied up his lean too. He watched the sea grass grow.

    And he waited.

    He would wait seventeen more if that’s how long Rose took to reach the ocean. Hunting small animals in that brush was no problem either. With his wild magic he’d been a master at spear fishing for several years, and at hunting, for several years. He had no problem obtaining food. He was beside the ocean, so had no problem staying clean.

    That afternoon, he drew a rose in the sand. He’d drawn pictures of roses for the previous seventeen straight nights. Always, the wind, and the surf, took them away. But he liked to draw them. They reminded him of her.

    That evening, as the sun drew near the horizon, he saw a crescent moon shaped boulder drifting through the brush, toward the ocean. He knew it was Rose.

    Rose stopped her journey when she reached Sword.

    He helped her down from her seat. “You know why I’m here, don’t you.”

    Rose held his hand, “Of course. Thank you for waiting for me. I’m sorry I took so long to get here.”

    “Don’t be sorry. I want to hear all the stories of your journey here.”

    249 Words

  7. Maybe Celeste is right – if Nolan’s intentions were malevolent, he’s had plenty of opportunities to act on them. Still, I can’t shake the nagging thoughts at the back of my mind. So I do the only thing I can think of.

    It’s the early morning hours when I find myself at his door, hand shaking as it knocks on the hardwood. A part of me hopes he doesn’t answer, but those hopes are dashed when he appears on the threshold.

    “Are you usually up this early?” There’s amusement in his voice, and not a hint of sleep. Guess I’m not the only one struggling to rest.

    “No. Can we talk?”

    His eyes have an edge to them, and the amusement seems to have left. He steps aside to let me in, “Sure.”

    But as soon as he closes the door behind us, some of my resolve weakens. Everything I’d planned to say goes out the window.

    “Is everything okay? You seem-”

    “Why haven’t you gone home yet? You were supposed to leave after the wedding.” Our eyes meet, his gaze unflinching.

    “You know why. I’m here until we find whoever is targeting the princesses.” He watches me, eyes narrowing. “But…you don’t believe that.”

    “I don’t know if I can trust you.” With a deep breath, I continue, “And I need you to know that.”

    “What can I do to change your mind?” Is that a hint of hurt in his voice?

    “I don’t know.”

    244 untitled fantasy WIP words

  8. Who Hunts the Hungry?

    Cal pulled his army jacket a little tighter around him as the caravan pulled into the parking lot near the bridge and unpacked their gear. Some of it he recognized, and some he didn’t but he knew what they were the minute one of them started talkin’ about Madame Laveau, ghosts, and vampires.

    He also saw a small group of neo-goths targeting the group. He sighed. He could just let the two groups duke it out, but it wasn’t in the best interest of the neighborhood.

    With a sigh, he pulled his collar up and approached the ghost hunters. He knew that warning them away would only make them want to stay so he smiled and drew closer.

    “Y’all know why I’m here,” he said in a long-suffering voice as he reached the group. “That’ll be fifty dollars.”

    “What?” Their leader demanded.

    Cal nodded pointing to the parking sign. “Fifty dollars.”

    “But, we have a permit.”

    “Permit don’t cover parkin’, son.”

    He smiled as they briefly discussed the merits of paying before packing up and leaving. They were long gone by the time the hunters were in position.

    “You’re going to pay for that, old man,” one of the neogoths growled

    He turned, towards them his eyes, glowing in the dark, “You know why I’m here,” he answered. “Ain’t no prey here— just put dem fangs back inside your head an’ keep moving.”

    He shook his head as they walked away. Kids these days.

    244 words, not including title

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.