#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 542

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 542 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 542:

College professor, equality enthusiast, and romance author, Louisa Bacio.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram |

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“It’s not that simple.”

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!

12 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 542”

  1. The Road Back Part 8

    Bink Cousins had gone to ground. The weather had turned nasty: high winds, thick snow, environmental elements, all combining to ruin travel and modest Christmas plans.

    The Rubber Meets The Road Inn had become my short-term second home as well as a way station for a motley collection of highway travelers who were storm swacked.

    It could have been worse, I suppose but when the weather throws a hissy fit, the wise man hunkers down.

    And there was still Bink out there.

    And Lacey Latimer was paying my freight.

    By Boxing Day, the melt had set in with a torrential fury.

    “This is costing you a pretty penny” I reminded Lacey. “I hate taking your money with nothing to show for it.”

    She was a smart business woman and I could see her balancing competing costs: my services versus the threat that Bink posed.

    “It’s not that simple,” she finally said. “I need him gone. Until that happens, money almost doesn’t matter.”

    So we’d been going day by day. And then, Thursday, December 29th, bright and early, the local gendarmes came calling. Lacey was serving pancakes to three fellow travelers and me. The constabulary duo spoke to Lacey in the kitchen.

    I gobbled more pancakes.

    Finally, law and order left the building and Lacey filled me in.

    “He’s been dead the whole time, “ she said. “Truck went off Wickers Edge…twisty part of the highway.”

    That was that.

    I’d be home for the New Year.

    250 WIP

  2. Chester resisted the urge to argue for logic. “What is that? How will it make anyone listen to anything?”

    “By threat, of course.” Avery beamed. “If they don’t adhere to our demands, we’ll shoot this baby into a population center like Chicago or New York, and kill thousands – maybe even millions if it’s dense enough.”

    “But what is it?”

    “It’s a shell containing a deadly neurotoxin constructed by my dear friend Mr. Schicksal.” He stroked the canister. “It’s perfect, elegant, and effective.”

    “So why do you need me if it’s so perfect?” Chester shifted closer to the door.

    “Because, my dear cousin, I need you to construct an antidote to keep me and my militias safe from harm.”

    “Wait, you want to kill others to prove how right you are? Is that what you’re saying?”

    Avery leveled him with a patronizing smile. “We tried getting their attention through normal channels—talking, voting, protesting. But the politicians are already in someone’s pocket and they aren’t listening. This will make them listen.”

    “It’s not that simple, Avery. Killing other people only proves them right in what they’re saying about you.”

    “Oh?” Avery’s eyes blazed with curiosity. “What are they saying about me, then?”

    “They’re calling you a terrorist. Someone willing to hurt others to get what he wants.”

    Avery shrugged. “Those who refuse to learn, listen, and change reap the consequences of their willful ignorance. History will describe me differently – as a patriot who overthrew oppression and oligarchy.”

    247 ineligible #Sirens words

  3. “Just tell him you love him.”
    “It’s not that simple.”
    “I don’t know how he feels about me.”
    “He supports you in anything you want to do. He calls you beautiful, brags about you to anyone who will listen; believe me, the man loves you”
    “He doesn’t know my secret.”
    “How could you hide that from him? People must have called you, your majesty in front of him?”
    “Only once, and he thought the person was joking. I’m sorry we can’t all be ourselves Kelvin.”
    Kelvin started laughing.
    “I’m being a privileged idiot. It hasn’t been easy for you being the only gay courtier in the palace.”
    “Be honest to Barrett, then propose.”
    “Do you think he would accept and be my consort?”
    “Seize happiness with both hands,” Kelvin advised.

    Hours later I was back in my room in the palace.
    “How did it go?” Kelvin asked.
    “Barrett was after my money, He panicked when he found out who I was queen of, calling me a monster I lost my temper and drained him dry.”
    “Did you call out the clean-up crew?”
    “Of course, but I’m so sad; you said he loved me.”
    “I am a fool.”
    “A loveable fool, my beloved friend.”
    “You forgive me?”
    “Can I turn someone?”
    “Do you have someone in mind?”
    “Then go ahead, one of us should be happy.”
    “I’ll find you someone worthy of you, too, Ellie.”
    “Thank you, dear, Kelvin. Now let’s go get some lunch, I’m still hungry.”
    250 words @SweetSheil

  4. “Nope. It’s not that simple,” I thought. “Can’t be that simple.”

    Yet there it was. Written in words by my own hand. “What if the Big Bang was actually the Big Rip?”

    I stared at the words. “The Big Rip?”

    How would we know? How could we know? We would be living inside the rip, inside the biggest phase change in the history of everything.

    “For that matter, what if this isn’t the first Big Rip?” That thought left me sitting at my desk, staring out the window, and wondering if I suddenly had an explanation for dark matter, and dark energy, and what was beyond the edge of the universe. Because, suddenly, dark matter might turn into matter and mass, that didn’t change in the phase change. It would lie outside of our laws of physics. We couldn’t see it, or detect it. But it would still be there.

    Dark energy would be the expansion of the original space that was being overwritten in the big rip. Space that could well have been expanding at an accelerating rate as an open universe. One that expanded forever. One where a big rip became inevitable in theory.

    And the reason galaxies had appeared out of nowhere, fully formed was because they were already there, and the phase change made them visible.

    I shook my head. “Nope. No way. It’s not that simple.”

    231 Words

  5. Step one: breathe. Two: don’t panic. Three: Find where you are, so you can navigate back home.

    Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. It was just supposed to be a simple portal spell. I left the ice and snow of the Midwest and headed to my favorite beach for some warmth and relaxation until dinnertime. Instead, I woke in a stone room, dark enough to be underground or the middle of the night, and my wrists and feet were chained to some sort of seat.

    “I’ve been waiting for the next mage to jump across our region to give me a new research project. Thank you for volunteering.” A candle sputtered to life, illuminating the goggle clad face of an elven male. Silver magic glittered on his cheek from a recent scratch.

    “What do you mean, ‘research project?’” At least now I knew where the others in my order had vanished to….

    “Oh, well, some I torture. Some I force to do magic beyond their abilities to record the effects. Handsome ones like yourself, if you’re not opposed, I just enjoy you as a pet for several years as I slowly drain your magic until you’re of no use to me. Otherwise, I just enjoy you as eye candy until you’ve served your magical purpose. I may be evil but not thoroughly a monster. Choose.” He sounded…bored.

    “Umm. Given those choices, I guess ‘pet?’” That would give me several years to plot an escape or be rescued, and he was pretty.

    250 words
    Twitter: miya_kressin

  6. “Have ya nothin’ to say, boyo?” Loch tipped his beer bottle and drank but his gaze stayed on the man sitting next to him at the bar.

    Kin stared at his hands which remained clasped around his own bottle. “What’s to say?”

    “Ya could start by admittin’ the cailín is yer mate.”

    “It’s not that simple.”

    Loch snorted. “It’s not?”

    Snarling, Kin drained his bottle. “No, ya bloody fool, it’s not. I’m a feckin’ Wolf. She’s…” No more words came.

    “She’s what? Beautiful? Intelligent? In love with yer sorry arse?”

    “She’s…” Again words failed him. “Her father’s a bloody Major-general. Her mother’s a movie star.”


    “And I’m a feckin’ Wolf.” Kin growled, the sound rumbling in his chest loudly enough the bartender turned to stare at him.

    “Aye, Kin, ya are. You’ll love her and keep her safe for all of her life. You’ll bend over backwards t’make her happy. You’ll never stray. You’re honorable. And I’ve heard it said that you’re on the dark and sexy side.” Loch held up his hands, palms forward in a “now take it easy” gesture. His eyes glittered with humor. “Not that I would say that. You bloody well snore loud enough t’wake the dead and there’s nothin’ sexy about that.”

    After taking another sip, the Irishman clapped Kin on the shoulder and continued. “She know’s what’cha are and she hasn’t run away screamin’ like a banshee. She’s yer mate. Claim her. And yeah, ’tis that simple.

    Kin could only hope.
    250 Hard Target: Crossfire WIP words

  7. “I told you, last time we fought, that I would kill you.”

    “And yet, aquí estoy!”

    When she was in her werewolf form, Lupita Lopez went by Dela Luna. When she was fighting vampires, the silver muzzle came off.

    “Centuries of undeath have taught me patience,” Mikhail Alexander loomed ominously. “An opportunity you won’t experience.”

    A colorful vortex twisted around the werewolf and vampires where the Lopez home had previously been. Avery Scarlett, Mikhail’s esposa, was the one Dela Luna needed to reach.

    “I beat you both before! I’ll do it again!”

    Of course, at the moment, the heroic werewolf didn’t recall how she beat Mikhail before. Also, she hadn’t fought him and Avery at the same time. Avery’s high laugh grated Dela Luna’s sensitive ears as the vampiress manipulated the flow of energy from the blazing Curse Eater Ruby.

    “You took our previous domain from us; now your family will be the sacrifices that allow me to remake the world.”

    Dela Luna snarled as she tumbled clear of Mikhail’s punch that would have shattered the pavement. If there were any.

    “Not gonna happen! All I have to do is get that ruby back, and estas terminada!”

    Avery’s cold eyes shone sadistically, “It’s not that simple.”

    A section of the vortex near Avery lost its color. A weathered voice emanated from the darkness.

    “Perhaps I can make up the difference.”

    Dela Luna grinned at the sight of her tiny abuela stepping out of the shadows, twisted wand in hand.

    249 PRUDENT words

  8. Evelyne gave her symbiote a quick nip, making it detach itself. “It’s not that simple,” she said, pulling it free from her ear. “You need to let it root itself: it’s so much more than just an earpiece.”

    Freed from her ear canal, her Sibling resembled a tentacle; its suckers still blooded from the connections it’d released. It seemed longer than he’d expected and thicker too. It made him feel queasy, seeing it in the open like that.

    “Rather you than me,” Nox said, backing away, wanting to be well out of the range of the creature. “I’ve never seen the attraction of being augmented. I’d rather remain 100% human – pure and entirely as my God intended.”

    “Maybe if you think of it as a whelk instead of fixating on its extra-terrestrial origins. They’re virtually cousins, albeit a couple times removed.”

    Nox shook his head, clamping his lips tightly together. He involuntarily clenched his buttocks too, although he knew the Government’s scientists said the symbiotes would only attach if they sensed neural activity nearby. “Not for me,” he said, shuddering. “It’ll be a cold day in Hades before I’ll willingly submit to the invasion of my brain.”

    Her Sibling slipped easily back into position, its tail the only part visible when re-engaged. Evelyne seemed more relaxed, more complete with it back in her head.

    But was he really doing the right thing? If only a few of the reports were true, he could see there could be a benefit.

    250 words – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com

  9. It’s not that simple.

    I mean, it always is from your perspective.

    Can’t you just, you ask, or maybe wouldn’t it be easier if you didn’t do that?

    I appreciate that, I could say, I’ve never thought of that before.

    No. No. No! Shut up, for Christ’s sake.

    Do you even hear yourself? This isn’t about you. Not this.

    Not everything is fucking about you.


    So no. It’s not that simple. I’m fucking miserable like this.

    Don’t you think if I could choose to not be like this, I would? If there was a switch or a choice or a way that didn’t involve medication and years of pain?

    The only simple things are the moments.

    The moment I wake up even though I’d rather not.

    The moment I smile on the Zoom call.

    The moment I do the dishes. The laundry.

    The moment I take a shower.

    The moments I breathe.

    The moments I try so very hard to believe that I’m the person other people see, worthy of keeping around, and not the one I see.

    That’s the choice. That’s what’s simple.

    What, you expected an epiphany? A resolution?

    I’m choosing to breathe this moment. That’s going to have to be good enough.

    206 words

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