#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 556

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 556 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 556:

Husband and Father of 2 Autistic Children, Lover of Magic the Gathering, D&D and Good Stories, Joel Sandersen.

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And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“Might as well be.”

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 556”

  1. A Messy State of Affairs

    I suppose it started in France. Might have been an issue elsewhere of course. Less children being born. More old people packing their work lives in early. Governments getting nervous, needing to maintain a workforce. Keep that old economy humping along. Collecting more and more taxes to offset growing deficits.

    Covid didn’t help. Added several complications that likely were always there but had taken a back seat to just surviving. Working from home became, “Hell, maybe I should do something else. Might as well be a writer or an artist. Something fun that uses the old noggin.“

    Not that I was thinking that. Too many writers and artists is my view. Art is fine I suppose in its place, on a wall, collecting dust somewhere but it’s not as nourishing as vegetables or a slab of steak. We need people producing food.

    Now, I don’t grow food, but I appreciate that others do. We need people working, producing goods, building materials, stoves, fridges, frying pans; never have enough frying pans.

    So, governments everywhere are trying to keep us going. But we would be fools not to realize that these decision makers have already scored their retirement packages. The ones we know about and the ones a tad more hidden.

    That’s the real messy state of affairs we have got going here. The ordinary Joe is always playing second fiddle while all those Government Nero’s wax on…they got their asses covered with pensions up the wazoo.

    250 rants (I mean words) Word rants

  2. That evening, Sunshine went to one of the houses in the town, found the walk-in room that was the shower, and enjoyed getting clean. She washed her clothing a second time, and laid it out to dry.

    While her clothes dried, she went to the room the machines had shown her was where food came from. She asked the machines to show her how to have that room make food. The machines stepped her through making a meal. A salad, and a bowl of her favorite fruits.

    “Might as well be resting here for a few days.” She found the bed in the house, and slept for the night.

    The next morning as she dressed, she made a plan. “I’ll stay in town for a few days. Eat. Get clean. Rest. Let myself recover. Then, when I’m ready, I’ll start my journey around the world. Like Merlin did.”

    She considered talking with the machines about that, but decided not to. “Ubiquitous, they said. In the air, the water, the dirt. In each of us.” She knew it meant she didn’t have to tell them what she was going to do. They already knew. All they had to do was listen to her planning, and talking to herself.

    One thing bothered her, as she wandered the town. There were no books. No newspapers. Nothing to read. She asked the machines about that.

    “The humans stopped reading. We believe it is one of the reasons they started to die out.”

    248 Words

  3. “It’s not hopeless,” I said to myself.

    I wasn’t buying it. “Might as well be.”

    If I was being honest, I probably wouldn’t have been so down about things. Things weren’t that bad. I’ve got a good family, a better-than-most job, a safe place to live, the ability to see doctors, and more friends than a younger me would have ever thought I’d have.

    Actually, younger me never would have thought I’d have any of that. Well, maybe the job. No one as smart as me could possibly fail to be successful.

    You hear the sarcasm in my voice? You’d better be able to.

    “Oh shut the fuck up. There I go again. Ohhh, I shouldn’t be hopeless because everything is sooo goooood. On top of everything else, I am such a whiny loser.”

    I just stared, waiting for me to finish.

    I wasn’t done with myself, though. “It doesn’t matter that I have friends or a family or whateverthefuck. It’s hopeless because I am me. That’s it. Quod erat demonstrandum.”

    I was right. I mean, I was wrong in nearly every possible way, but I was right about this.

    I sat there quietly with myself for a bit, opening myself to the truth.

    Something weird happened when I did that, though. There was another voice.

    “I hate them. They had no right to do this to me.”

    “Are you sure? They did this out of love.”

    “Fuck that. Love that hurts isn’t okay.”

    “But it’s still hopeless, right?”


    250 words

  4. Maddox’s gloating voice echoed throughout the ship, reverberating from every panel and bulkhead. “Are you dead yet, Captain?” he asked, glee dripping from each word. “If not, you might as well be. I’ve a hundred armed stormtroopers searching for you, ripping the ship apart. Half of them with blasters, all the rest with stunners. Let’s see how lucky you are.”

    The microphone shut off, Maddox’s smug tones replaced by the throbbing of drums, their volume and tempo ramping up each minute. The remaining bridge crew were concealed within the air conditioning, peering through the mesh grilles on either side of the central corridor.

    An electronic discharge crackled, followed by a scream. It was from somewhere toward the stern, on one of the lower decks, probably engineering. Another came from the direction of the ship’s medical suite. That one was a blaster – Jakes was sure of that.

    “We can’t just wait here,” he whispered, pushing himself back against the casing of the enclosure where he was hiding, along with his weapons officer. “For all we know, he could be killing everyone. At least, if we surrender, he could stop. That’s what I would do if I were him.”

    Gillette was uneasy. Maddox was a rogue, his reputation marred by atrocities. He was a different type of leader from Jakes.

    “I think we should use the ducts and infiltrate the command bridge. We could fire from all sides and neutralise them that way.”

    Jakes nodded. “Let’s make it so,” he said.

    250 words – twothirdzrasta.blogspot.com

  5. The elf ranger wants to kill my ex.

    I’m with her on that point, but it makes me a little nervous for our daughter. Still, these elven sisters are our best shot yet for Spooky learning to break my curse. Much better than hoping for Malain to act like a decent person for once. Let alone a mother.

    I barely remember my human name, but breaking my curse hasn’t left Spooky’s mind since she learned about it. I’m proud of her for that.

    “Malain said you should break Blackie’s curse?”

    Vedania, the ranger, looks up from examining me. She’s apparently their magic expert.

    Spooky nods. Sharing Malain’s name was a gamble, and Spooky still doesn’t know that her mother’s the one who cursed me. Neither of us has shared that relationship, though. We might as well be prudent with lives at stake.

    “Can you help us?” Spooky looks hopeful.

    Vedania sighs. Are her sisters as worried as I am about her handle on her need to kill something?

    “It’s a difficult blood lock, but since you’re the daughter of the caster, you might have a chance of breaking it with enough training.”

    Spooky and I exchange shocked glances at Vedania’s revelation! Spooky a little more shocked.

    “It would also help,” Vedania continues, “if you were related to the cursed subject.”

    Does she need to know she’s related to me? I like to think I’ve been a pretty good cat. I don’t think I’ve done as well in the dad department.

    250 words

  6. “Shut it! We can sit here arguing like idiots, or we can go take one more fucking attempt at those bastards seeing reason!”

    “I think the Council gets final say.”

    “Can we just take a-“

    “Screw that!“

    Kailyn sighed inwardly, tuning out the incessant squabbling around her. Leaning against the doorframe of their newfound home while twelve others debated their misfortune of ending up with her as Coven Mistress.

    Trust me, I am just as displeased as you all are.

    She hadn’t wanted this. Not in the slightest had she wanted to be forced into a Coven, let alone be shoved on as their so-called leader. All she had wanted was to stay in her manor, alone. There was nothing good left there with her best friend gone, but there surely wasn’t any good here either in this pristine home with its new curtains and polished wood smell. Who in the gods’ names thought putting the Dark Heir in charge was a good idea? Most of this realm already hated and feared her. These twelve were no different. Keeping a healthy distance, throwing nervous glances her way. One of them was either going to try to stab her in her sleep or cower the moment she spoke.

    All of this might as well be just another trap. Another ploy to watch her crash and burn, another reasoning behind their wish to eliminate her. Another tactic for the flailing rulers to feel in control.


    243 words

  7. “All right. Let’s take a look.”

    He set the tool bag on the counter and popped off the faucet’s emblem. Once it dropped into the sink, he grabbed a small Philip’s head screwdriver to unscrew the bolt holding the handle to the base. When it loosened, he pulled everything apart and looked inside.

    There was nothing but pieces of old rusted metal, a broken gasket, and water.

    “Yeah, so while I’m not a master plumber, I can tell you there’s no fixing this thing. How old do you think it is?”

    Grace scowled and shrugged. “No idea. Probably as old as when my parents bought the house.”

    He nodded. “That makes sense. You’re going to have to replace it, though.”

    She groaned and nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid you’d say. Well, shit.”

    “If you’d like, we can go to the hardware store in town and I’ll help you pick out a good faucet that’s affordable then help you install it.” He set the tools and the handle down on the counter. “I know this isn’t how you wanted your vacation to go, but I’m happy to help.”

    She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you have lots of other things you need to be doing? I can always call a plumber.”

    He shrugged. “I finished up a few of the orders waiting and have a little time to do something else. Might as well be me. I don’t mind helping out a neighbor. It’s what folks do, right?”

    248 ineligible #Sirens words

  8. Consequences

    “If this were a murder mystery, I’d be looking at you,” David commented as he pulled out his notepad.

    Bella looked at her brother and shook her head. “Ain’t nobody dead,” she scolded.

    David looked from his sister to the shattered vase at her feet. “Might as well be, that was Mrs. Henderson’s favorite vase.”

    “You know I wasn’t here when it happened.”

    “Do I? I know that’s what you say, but you could be lying.”

    Bella stepped over the vase and picked up the broom and dustpan.

    “Getting rid of the evidence?”

    “Cleaning up the mess before someone steps on the shards.”

    “Potato, pahtahto.”

    Bella’s eyes widened as she backed away from the pile of shards noticing bits of bone and teeth in the dust she’d swept together.

    “What?” David asked as he squatted down to look at the pile. “Now we’re talking! Get your phone!”

    Bella backed up further, edging toward the door. Her brother was far too excited about the discovery

    “Come on Bella this is so cool. I need you to take pictures.”

    “No, David, we need to get out of here.”

    “Pictures,” he said snapping his fingers and pointing to the pile. “Take pictures, now.”

    But Bella was already gone. Then David heard his neighbor laugh. “Oh, son. You should have listened to your sister. But don’t you worry, The kiln is hot enough and I was thinking a nice pair of stoneware mugs”

    239 words (not including title)

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