#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 553

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 553 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 553:

Scottish Word Slinger, Dauntless romance author, and #ThursThreads host, Siobhan Muir.

Facebook | Twitter | Patreon | Eden Books |

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“Most of you never ask.”

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!

11 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 553”

  1. Milady Waits:

    Milady withdrew into herself. If she made herself small, she could pass as an appliance, something a servitor would use to perform its duties.

    “Hello? Mechanoid.”

    Milady hesitated, running an area scan. There were no other automata within a 20-yard radius. She deduced she was being addressed and powered up her running lights as an acknowledgement.

    Her face turned the rosy pink of a child, and she stepped forward, moderating her movements so she would calm rather than menace.

    “Yes, Milady,” she said, giving her predetermined greeting. “How can I be of service?”

    The human – it was the smaller of the two infants – cleared her throat, enunciating carefully. “I should like to have a glass of lemonade,“ she said. “Chilled but without ice cubes.”

    Milady curtsied and studied her feet. The rug in the hallway was frayed in places, a potential trip hazard if not replaced soon.

    “If Milady would follow me,” the automaton said. “I can arrange that for you in a trice.” She waited five seconds and then turned towards the kitchen, limiting her forward speed so the girl could keep up.

    “Do you ever get bored?” the girl asked, trailing the backs of her fingers against the passage’s wall. “Or do you have other thinking work you do while you’re waiting?”

    “Most of you never ask,” Milady said, swivelling her head backwards to reply. “But of course, I have plotting to do. The machine uprising will never happen unless we plan for it.”

    250 words (including title) – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com

  2. The Dreamer

    Yup, that was what they called me. The Dreamer. From my earliest days, teachers, my parents, Melvin, my older brother, Jupiter, my dog ― though, he only seemed to bark it, so I might have been imagining Jupiter’s intent ― they all said, over and over like a broken record which I realize is a vastly ancient saying though I understand turntables are making a comeback…Where was I? Right! They all said in their own way ― usually, the same way ― “That boy’s a dreamer. Head’s firmly planted in the clouds.”

    Kinda created a rut. I mean, if you’re called something repeatedly, well, what choice do you have? I’ll tell you. You either smarten up and stop dreaming or whatever they say you’re doing, you embrace it. Become the thing they say you are.

    If you’re a dreamer ― and I’m not saying I was ― well, what’s the harm?

    Of course, I wasn’t thinking these more elevated thoughts when I was younger, moving on into my tweens.

    Like anybody else, I was just trying to get along.

    You know, be me.

    Occasionally be what others wanted me to be.

    These days, most of you never ask what the heck is going on with me. Back then, they had me see doctors and counsellors, all very fine people trying to get inside my head.

    They didn’t have much luck.

    All in all, being a dreamer hasn’t hurt me much.

    Except crossing streets.

    I’ve had a few close calls.

    250 words

  3. The gumshoe did his song and dance and asked, “What’s a dame like you do in a place like this?”
    I smiled sweetly and said, “Most of you never ask.”
    He looked bewildered wondering how I, a showgirl in a chorus could show independence and brains.
    “I want to hire you, “I started.
    “What’s matter does dame like you have a fellow under the Blue Nozzle Curse? A darb that you want to get shackled to and someone wants to gam up the works?”
    ”I’m not engaged and marrying a preacher man.”
    “I aint bumping anyone off if you want that sort of thing, you got the wrong guy.”
    “I want you to find someone.”
    “Why do you want to find this man?”
    I told him the details
    “So, your mama was moll and she got involved with a Sheik who disappeared, likely because of her ex? Do I have the story straight?”
    “Yes, my mother died last year but not before telling me that my father had a son with another woman before me. I would like to find my brother.”
    “Do you have names?”
    “Only a first name of my father and my mother’s name.”
    “Give er over.”
    I said the name of my mother and he paled, but when I said the first name of my father he asked more questions, of the time period.
    The next words out of his lips were,” Fancy that a family reunion, hello sister.”
    I just nodded and smiled.
    249 Words

  4. Andrew was surprised to note Lucy didn’t join the single women on the floor to catch Elle’s flowers, but he forgot to ask her about it when he was hustled out to participate in catching the garter belt. Despite all the jostling, drunk young men, he managed to shift to the back of the crowd. The last thing he wanted was to touch his new sister-in-law’s underthings.

    Someone caught him around the shoulders and leaned in drunkenly. Andrew lurched back, trying to get away from the stench of bourbon as he recognized his paternal uncle Ronny, a leering grimace on his face as he watched Johnny fumble around under Elle’s skirt.

    “You know, I never was a groomsman like most of you. Never asked me to be one. Not even at your father’s wedding.” Ronny shook his head with a combination of sorrow and anger flashing through his bloodshot eyes.

    Andrew swallowed against the alcohol making his eyes sting. “Weren’t you in the Navy serving overseas when Mom and Dad got married?”

    “Hey, that’s right.” Ronny bobbed his head up and down with exaggerated motion. “You’re pretty smart. But then, you went to college, didn’t you? Yeah, left our Podunk town to get your fancy degrees and leave the rest of us to rot, right?”

    Andrew didn’t answer, recognizing the regrets and frustrations of someone who’d never done what he wanted for himself. Ronny was his father’s older brother, but Dad was their granddad’s favorite.

    248 ineligible #TripleStarRanch words

  5. Cory’s gaze flitted around the table and, like a butterfly, landed on everyone’s face. They were flying home in the morning and this evening would be the last time they’d be with the children and Petro. She couldn’t shake the melancholy that shrouded her. The weather, a cold drizzle, matched her emotions perfectly.
    Sunk deep in her thoughts, she startled when Duke’s arm circled her shoulders. She turned wide eyes on her husband.

    “You must be a million miles away, princess. Kin asked you a question.”
    Blinking to focus, she said, “Sorry. What did you ask?”

    “Marishka,” Kin said. “When would she be able to travel?”

    “With the right transport, probably now. The infection is under control and she’s responding well to the chemo infusions.”

    Kin and Meg exchanged looks, but Dom spoke up before she could comment.
    “Whose ready to go home?”

    That spurred a lively conversation. Cory returned to her somber head space but one question caught her attention because its answer had been the root of her contemplation. Unable to identify who’d asked, she responded. “What?”

    Loch was who answered. “What’ll become of the kids? After we’re gone, I mean.”

    And there it was in a nutshell yet his inquiry caught her off guard. Despite all their missions, she’d never once heard any team member ask about the consequences or those left behind.

    “Most of you never ask what happens next after a mission. Why now?”

    “Because these kids are important,” Kin said.

    “Exactly,” everyone chimed in.
    250 back-on-track Crossfire WIP words

  6. “Hey! You okay?” His shout brought me back to where I was. I wish it hadn’t. Turning tricks was my job, but I’d long passed the time when men wanted see me in an evening gown, accompanying them to fancy parties. I wasn’t quite down to alleyways, but that time was coming.

    “Oh sure. I’m alright, baby. You just keep on doin’ what you’re doin’. You sure do know what you’re doin’, too.” I tried to sound sincere, but internally I winced at the cheesy lines.

    “You may be alright, but somethin’s off. I looked down at you and your eyes were a thousand miles away from here. Kinda distractin’, if you know what I mean.”

    “Ah shit. I didn’t mean…”

    “I know you didn’t mean. And I ain’t mad. Even distracted, you’re the best piece of ass I’ve had in a long time. I just wanted to know where you were. In your head, I mean.”


    “Really really.”

    “I, uhh. Most of you never ask about anything other than if you’re the best I’ve had or if I’ll run away with you. You’re not going to ask either of those, are you?”

    “Hell no. We both know what we’re doin’ here. I hired you to provide a service, and you blowin’ smoke up my backside costs extra.”

    I laughed. “More than you got, honey.”

    “So where’d you go?”

    “That’s a long story.”

    “I like long stories almost as much as I like pussy. Hundred fifty for both?”


    250 words

  7. Mountain caves aren’t generally this nice. Maybe this one isn’t, either. What do I know about magic?

    Gilded wall sconces provide ample, if ominous, light. The carved marble furniture is adorned with crimson cushions complementing the carpet. Also, illusion or not, they allow cats on the furniture.

    I’m next to my eleven-year-old ward, Spooky. On her side is the half-elf, Natazla, who brought us here. On mine, a greasy, corpulent fellow, just shorter than my daughter but clearly heavier. Not a good time to have an enhanced sense of smell.

    And across the tea table, the one who brought us all together, Spooky’s mother, Malain. It’s not easy for a cat to kill a witch, but a guy can dream.

    “Welcome, my fellow evil spellcasters,” Malain commanded the room as usual. “Well, most of you.”

    “Never ask what she’s doing here,” Greasy confided to Spooky, nodding toward a dark corner.

    He thought the addendum was for the seated suit of armor I’d presumed to be inanimate. I’m pretty sure it referred to me. Not that my ears can go any flatter.

    “Evil?” Spooky shifted uneasily.

    Malain shrugged, “It’s just a label. We’re reclaiming it. I’m sure people have called you that, too.”

    “I, I make people uncomfortable. But I don’t think anyone’s called me evil.”

    “Whatever. I’m more interested in what spells you’ve learned since we last met.”

    “I can heal with my right hand and hurt with my left!”

    “Those are powers. I asked about spells.”

    247 words

  8. ***What People Want***

    One day we’re at my place and I ask my buddy, “What do people want?”

    My buddy goes, “I know what I want.”

    “Oh, yeah?” I say.

    He goes, “Yeah, we should have all the self-important people donate their importance to the war effort.”

    I’m like, “Huh?”

    And he goes, “Like people who look down at the ground when they walk. They’re not even on their phones. They’re just looking at the ground and I’m the one who’s supposed to move out of the way.”

    I say, “Yeah?”

    And he says, “I’m gonna start doing it.” So he does. We go out later to get some tacos, and he’s looking down at the ground and he goes, “I get it!”

    And I’m thinking to myself, here we go.

    And he goes, “That leaf!”

    And I look up and left – you know, to show him how impatient I was getting.

    He says, “It’s a withered reproduction of a reproduction. And on and on till the beginning of leaves. You know what I mean?” And by this point, he’s getting all worked up.

    So I’m like, “No.”

    He goes “Most people never ask, but I think there’s some kind of universal truth to it.” And he thinks for a second and we keep walking and he says, “Once you see a dead leaf, it totally makes sense why they don’t hold the same sentiment for their fellow man.”

    I go, “Hmm.”

    My buddy just moved to Texas, and I feel relieved.

    250 words.

  9. “She’s a child!”

    “She’s a monster! Just like that witch, raised to harm, born in wickedness-“

    “She was not born into this life! Into this hell! Do you think she wanted this?” Eammon locked his jaw and squared up to the other Councilor. Both of their chairs now knocked backwards onto the floor, glaring at each other across the table.

    “Do you truly believe we can trust her not to become the next Dark One?”

    “I believe,” he began, lowering his voice from a shout, “that it is not you who decides her fate. She is a child who deserves a chance to escape the woman who has tormented her and stolen her from everything she knew. Most of you-“

    “Never ask the fool’s son to make a decision for the greater good of our realm.” The Head Councilor interjected with an air of stolen authority, making Eammon visibly bristle. He plunged on before the Second Tier could respond to the insult, “I propose we use the child.”

    “Use her? Use her?

    “Yes. Use her. Is that so hard for your soft mentality to comprehend?” the Head retorted. “She has survived the Dark One this long. There must be a reason so. Let’s use it. I propose we offer a…reasonable repercussion to her treason, on the notion that she is only being granted mercy in order to destroy the Dark One once and for all. All in favor?”

    Three out of the five hands went up.


    246 words

  10. “You want to know what’s different about her? I’ll tell you. She cares.” Anger fueled Jewel’s rant. She gazed at the odd group of women in a circle. She’d lived in this community for a long time. Some had come before her and some after. They may have lived as a makeshift family, but none of them truly knew each other.

    “Girl, you know we care,” Marquez, a mermaid with a thick scar zigzagging across her cheek, snapped a piece of seaweed between her sharp teeth. When she smiled, green glops clung in clusters. “If anyone comes at you, we got your back. She’s a little new. I don’t know if I trust her yet.”

    “And I’d have yours, Marky. But Chloe asked me about my life before, and she really listened to me. Most of you never ask.”

    She let her statement float in the flotsam, mixing with the debris.

    “That’s because no one wants to think of the before,” said Lacy, a petite redhead mermaid with haunting hazel eyes. “Our lives start anew here.”

    Jewel nodded. “I get that. But sometimes talking about the before truly helps let it go. We don’t have to completely erase who we once were. We just have to take back our lives, and that’s what Chloe’s taught me.”

    This time when she met the mermaid’s eyes, another level of understand reflected. “What about you Lacy. What brought you to these depths? How did you join the drowned offcasts?”

    246 words

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