#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 600

Tying Tales Together, #ThursThreads Year 11 Got a tale to tie on?

Welcome back to the home of #ThursThreads. Wow, y’all. We made it to WEEK 600. SIX HUNDRED. My glory, that’s amazing!

Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing, like we have for the past 11 years. I had no idea when I started it would keep going! This is Week 600 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 social media handle or email in the post (so we easily notify 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, Bluesky, MeWe, and Mastodon, etc.

Our Judge for Week 600:

George Varhalmi with anole

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

Facebook |

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“You’ve moved all my stuff.”

Okay, since this is the 600th week, I thought we’d offer extra badges. So do your best, write your heart out, and know there will be prizes for the different subgenres.

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!

14 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 600”

  1. June’s Call

    The call came early. Danny was still in dreamland. Always a safer place. The ringing wouldn’t stop. Anne tapped his arm. “Please get it…”
    He swung his legs out of bed, feet plonking on the chilled floor.
    He shimmied from the shock.
    “No,” he said.
    “No what?” Anne asked. “What’s wrong?”
    ” Nothing…something. The phone…the ringing…”
    “Answer it and it’ll stop.”
    “You’re so darn smart…”
    He got up on his pins, wobbled to the living room, stumbling on the settee, righting himself, finally reaching the phone. He picked up the receiver..
    “It’s too early …” to the caller…
    “Danny….is that you?…please…please…”
    It was his client, June Scott. Sounding more rattled than ever.
    “It’s me, June…Too early. Brain’s still asleep…what’s wrong?”
    Whimpering started. Or maybe it was continuing. He had to break through the tears.
    “JUNE,” he snapped. “Are you safe?”
    A brief silence, gulping back the pain, maybe, She gasped, ”Yes…I think so.”
    “What happened?”
    More silence, but he could hear her sucking back the air, getting ready to spill whatever.
    “He broke in…Ted…drunk…angry…looking for something he said.”
    “Just before I called…he’s left, tossed things around. Looking for his papers, he said. His birth certificate. Yelling things like you’ve moved all my stuff…I yelled back…you took them when you left…and he said, liar…you’re a liar…”
    “Did he hit you?”
    “No. Just waved his arms like a madman…and finally left.”
    “Let me get dressed. I’ll be there in an hour.”
    “Thank you,” she said, and they rang off.

    250 WIP

    1. Where’s My Shit?
      Dad was coming home. It took ten people to clean his house so he could be home. I hope he knows all the effort we put into it. The place hadn’t been cleaned in what seemed years. We took out two garbage trucks of garbage,three loads from the back of a pickup of recycling, chemicals and broken junk.
      It was a two day project where everyone brought their own cleaning supplies to help out a person who was not in the family anymore but had been for almost twenty years. Bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen, junk room, garage was all cleaned so dad could be home.
      I picked him up from the hospital and told him of the effort in cleaning the house. He was quiet. We walked in the door and he shuffled inside looking around. After a few minutes he said. “Where’s my shit, you moved all my stuff.” I looked at him and told him you are lucky to be home. The shit is gone and things got put away instead of you going to a assisted living you get to be home. He then shuffled to his room and looked around.
      He died four months later, in the house that his kids grew up and his former inlaws cleaned

      212 words
      Luanne Bennett

  2. I’d been gone two days and I could find any trace of my things and my favourite comforter, now adorned Rowena’s bed? I had a few choice words for her. Didn’t my twin sister love me anymore, or had Trevor come between us both? I’d chosen her, didn’t that count?
    As I sat there wondering where Rowena was my mother walked in. She looked at me in shock first saying, Rowena? Thank goodness.”
    “Mom, you’ve moved all my stuff. Where’s Roe?”
    “You are Roe. Robin was buried yesterday.”
    I looked down at my hands, dirt was under broken, cut nails. My clothes were sprayed with clumps of dried blood and dirt. Looking in the mirror my hair stood on end and my face was ashen and covered in dirt.
    My mother visits me frequently at my new place. I have a lovely vest and the walls are padded but I miss my blanket and I just wish I could get everyone to quit calling me Rowena.
    “If you’re not Rowena? Where is she?” my shrink asks.
    “Dead! Trevor killed her.”
    “Trevor died before her. You are Rowena and you killed Robin,” he insisted, but I turn my face to the wall. He’s talking ridiculously, Rowena isn’t dead; she’s sitting in the corner talking to me.
    Roe opens her mouth and it extends like a snake, she swallows me whole. I’m Robin inside, but Rowena has taken over and we share this life, entwined forever as always, she’ll never leave me.
    250 words

  3. Going home was supposed to be comforting but for Estella, it was stressful. The minute she stepped in the door, her mother stood there, staring at her like she was a guilty kid that was sneaking in from a party.

    She was old enough to live on her own but there was always the expectation that she behave when in her mother’s house, considering the seat of the coven of witches she sat on. Her mother had always been more concerned about her status more than her own child.

    “So you finally arrived. There are clothes to change into in your room. Do it quickly so that we can speak to the Council.” Her mother turned on her heal, heading to the back of the house. “We will go through the circle. Be quick about it.”

    Estella rolled her eyes as she made her way to her old room. The house looked the same, like it was a museum. Though her room was a stark contrast to everything else. It was a bed and anything that she had left behind was gone.

    Probably burned or tossed in the trash. Shame. there had been some things she had hoped to take with her but that was on her, considering how she left the house.  She made a face and got changed before going out to where her mother stood by a tree.  “You moved my things.”

    “Garbage was left behind so I got rid of it.”


    245 words

  4. @Lexikonical 250words

    “You’ve moved all my stuff.”
    I sighed. I’d been dreading this conversation. “Just this shelf, I just packed some of it away. It’s right there.” I pointed to a chest sitting beside the armchair. He followed my gaze but his expression remained hurt.
    “You don’t want me here, do you?” He drifted over to the chest and stared down at it.
    I placed the books I was trying to sort on the shelf and turned to him. “That’s not it at all.” I knew this house share was too good to be true. Trudi had told me all about the place, the location, the price. She had told me about my roommates too but she’d been a little selective about some of the details. “I just need some room for some of my things.”
    “So how come you’ve only moved my things?” His eyes bored into me, dark rings around them contrasted against his pallor. His gaze narrowed accusingly.
    “It’s not because of that.”
    “Yes it is. It’s because I can’t touch anything you think I don’t need to have it.” I could feel the beginnings of a breeze start to stir. “But that’s exactly why I need to be able to see them!”
    “Aloysius, I only cleared one shelf. I couldn’t touch Vlad’s things; they all have curses on them. I just wanted somewhere for my books.” The ghost just stared at me before blinking out of sight. Was it too late to move back in with my parents?

  5. Barrett examined the cuff in hopes they could break it open, but it was held shut with a small padlock.

    They swung their gaze around, looking for any sort of lockpick to use when they noticed a sliding closet door holding familiar clothes.

    Are those my costumes?

    They dragged the chain closer and shoved the door open. Most of the costumes they wore in their drag show hung encased in plastic to keep them pristine. A shoe rack held more of the kitten-heeled shoes in various colors.

    Barrett shook their head and turned as the first door they’d seen opened. They tensed, not sure what they could do, but prepared to defend themselves against any threat.

    Eddie Farnsworth stepped through the door, holding a tray filled with a coffee carafe, cream, sugar, and what looked like some sort of store-bought sugar cookies with red and pink icing left over from Valentine’s Day.

    “Oh, goodness, I had no idea you were awake, sweetheart.” Eddie gave Barrett a warm smile. “Come have some coffee. I brought your favorite.”

    “What’s going on, Eddie? Why am I chained to the wall?”

    “Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, Misty. You just come sit over here with me.” Eddie sat on the bed and patted the coverlet beside him. “Come on, we can’t share anything until you’ve moved.”

    “All my stuff is here. Why? What’s going on?”

    Eddie’s expression frosted over, his smile turning brittle. “Come sit down. It’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

    250 ineligible #Sirens words
    @siobhanmuir on Bluesky

  6. “Anyone ever tell you that you look like the superhero, Gemini?”

    Hairdo leaned on the front desk with unearned confidence. Helen covered her sigh with her best customer-service smile.

    “Many times. It’s a little disturbing, considering her Power.”

    It was early afternoon, and the gym was pretty dead. The soldiers and fitness nuts would be in later with the bulk of the staff. Right now, it was mostly housewives.

    “Well, I’m glad you’re here instead of out fighting crime.”

    Hairdo winked, complete with finger gun, and swaggered back into the gym. Even from behind, he was clearly checking out the women. Not the equipment. As subtle as a semi-truck.

    “You’ve moved all my stuff. Again.”

    Dan, the owner, towered over Helen. She glanced at the back office.

    “And cleaned it and put it back,” Helen smiled for real this time.

    His stoney face broke with a laugh.

    “Seriously, how’d I get someone like you working here?”

    Helen shrugged, “I don’t mind the pay or the hours, and I love the access to the equipment. Oh, shit!”

    Hairdo was at the bench press, his attention on an army wife’s ass and not what was obviously too heavy a bar for him. Helen reflexively vaulted over the front desk. Three of her caught the deadly weight before it smashed Hairdo’s face.

    Helen exchanged glances with herselves. She didn’t just look like Gemini, she had her Power too?


    236 The Many Lives of Gemini words

  7. I was already in my mind when I arrived.

    Wait. This is going to be complicated.

    50 was already in my mind when 10 arrived. 10 ignored 50 – I’d gotten fat and bald and hairier than dad, and there was even a ring on my finger. I’d gotten married? Best not to ask. 50 was doing that adult thing of arranging snacks and looking at my watch. 10 looked at my watch too. Some things never change.

    Neither 50 nor 10 had noticed 4 come in. 4 knew how to be quiet when I needed to.

    15, on the other hand. 15 was a pain in my ass. “You’ve moved all my stuff!”

    50 sighed. “I’ve moved all my stuff. It’s been 30 years.”

    “31,” 4 added. “372 months.”

    “How many days?” 15 mouthed off. 4’s eyes went distant. I was thinking.

    “Never mind that,” 50 said. “We need to talk.”

    “Even me?” Asked 24. 24 was scared of my own shadow.

    “Yes, even you. And you too, 44.”

    44 looked startled. “But I’m a fucking mess.”

    “So am I,” echoed dozens of voices. 7 giggled at the use of the word “fucking.” 8 did not.

    I looked at me. And me. And me. I saw so many different paths I could’ve taken. I knew what I was about to experience at 9, at 22, at 35. Goddamn 35.

    “But I don’t wanna be.” 3’s voice was soft. I picked 3 up and put me on my lap.

    “Me either.”

    250 words

  8. Framed photos of my family line the stone walls of my office. It is worth noting that photography will not be invented for another twenty years. My family have always been ahead of the times.

    “You’ve moved all my stuff.”

    My father settles into the wooden chair that sits in front of my desk. The red cushion disappears under his black robes, as he crosses one leg over the other, steepling his fingers. Realizing that I am sitting the same way, I adjust my position.

    “You did ordain me as The One True Death and move into your retirement. Thus, it was natural for me to rearrange the office to my liking.”

    “How was your first week on the job?”

    “Challenging, as expected. It is not easy approving people to die. However, my Time Keepers and Deathers have done a great job selecting the hour glasses and crossing people over.”

    Father glances around the cavern-like room, my framed photos insufficient to mask the thrumming
    silence. Father and I have always been close, but suddenly, we feel distant.

    “How do you plan to proceed over the next two hundred years?”

    I had not given it much thought and say as much. Father stands, his chair grating on the stones, and I flinch.

    “Thus far, you lack an heir, and in two hundred years, that will be a problem.”

    The door slams behind him, making me think two hundred years will go by quicker than I would prefer.

    246 words

  9. “You’ve moved all my stuff.” I’m not sure why it surprises me, or why I bother pointing it out.

    The bedroom looks exactly the same as my first night there, before my things found homes on the dresser. Before my books littered the nightstand on what used to be my side of the bed.

    Nik motions to the large chest – a new addition – at the foot of his bed. “I didn’t throw anything away, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

    I bite back the urge to say he threw me away, too tired to pick a fight. Instead, I open the chest to avoid looking at him. My dresses line the bottom while my books sit in neat stacks. “Why bother keeping it at all?”

    “Why do you ask questions you know the answer to?” Frustration colors his words, and I can’t help but meet his eyes, fury in mine.

    “Because I don’t know, not really.” I shut the chest with more force than I intend, the sound harsh, almost making me flinch. “Maybe I would, if you’d stop being so cryptic. If you actually communicated with me!” Tears sting my eyes, and I hate myself for it.

    His expression softens into something akin to pain, a glimpse of the vampire I first met finally coming through again. Whatever his reasons for bringing me back after sending me away, at least it’s not easy for him either. “I’m sorry. It’s-”

    “For my own safety. I know.”

    248 words

  10. Worlds Super Collided

    The world had changed. I hadn’t expected it to stand still while I was gone but this was different.

    Subtle changes, nuances in languages, technological breakthroughs, these were to be expected. But a complete sociological shift in ethics and culture?

    There was no missing the way the cameras tracked my every move. As I neared Central World’s Headquarters, the buzzing in my head grew and I could hear their radio chatter in my head as I made my way to the podium.

    “Just a little closer,” I heard one of the guards subvocalize into his com unit. I paused as the pressure in my head grew impossible to ignore. I looked around for a familiar face, but they had all been lost to time.

    This was not the future I wanted. It was not my future. Some other me had lived this life, but like so many fractured worlds, it was not mine.

    I closed my eyes, reaching out for a friendly face, and found J’dun. People had changed but worlds had not. With a sigh, I floated back to my room on the planet’s surface.

    “What did you learn?” he asked.

    “We can’t stay out of the Consortium. Things go wrong.”

    “What happened?”

    “You’ve moved all my stuff,” I answered as if it said it all, and in a way– it had.

    “So, now is not the time for a honeymoon


    The world was not ready for the union of sentient worlds, especially not J’dun and me.

    249 words, not including title

  11. The broken-out windows left gaping gaws in the house. The shattered warning signs along the fence should have been a clue that the house was unoccupied.

    Steve stood outside the abandoned house, feeling as empty as the destroyed structure in front of him. How could something once so filled with life now be so devoid of it, and where had the former inhabitants gone?

    He weighed going inside, up the splintered wood steps to see if any clues lay beyond the open door. The crunch of dried leaves sounded behind him, and he knew who it’d be before he turned around.

    “You should have told me you moved.”

    “My stuff?” She lifted her shoulders as if the effort took an incredible amount of energy. “It’s just my stuff. My heart never left.”

    Not like he did. She didn’t have to say it to hear the repercussions in her voice. He’d joined the military when he’d turned eighteen. The saying was “and never looked back,” but he had. Knowing he had Janie back home, even if she wasn’t waiting for him, made all the difference on those long cold nights or the sweltering days so hot, the very air he’d breathed stung his lungs.

    “You never came back.”

    Her hair was longer a few crinkles lined her eyes. Hopefully, she still felt the same way.

    “I’m back now.”

    She sighed, a deep exhale holding lots of meaning. She glanced at the house, “Yeah, but not everything stayed the same.”

    248 words

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