Thursday, January 23, 2014

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 105

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked for the second year of our challenge. It's Thursday today, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 105 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. 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.
Rules to the Game:
  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • 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 (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 7 PM Pacific 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, and Google Plus

Our Judge for Week 105:

Me, the Scottish Word Slinger, Siobhan Muir.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“You can’t run away screaming like a little girl.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!


  1. Facing a surly drover and peevish mage, and without the support of his incapacitated cohorts, he turned and fled, leaving his hat and blade where they'd been struck from him.

    “You can't run away, screaming like a little girl,” Glane advised, drawing the brigand up short, but well out of knife-throwing range. Mara hissed at Glane under her breath and sent a tendril of magic to wind around and poke his ankle with icy spines. “For one, you don't have the voice for it; you sound like a castrated moose. For another, you'll draw wolves.” Glane dropped his hand to his belt, incidentally clipping Mara's breast with one of them as he did so, and she yelped and dropped her prickler.

    “So you can either walk back here with your hands behind your head like a civil prisoner, or we can leave you to the forest. Maybe someone would pay for your hide to remain intact, or maybe there's just a bounty. I don't much care, but it'll mean a hot meal and a soft bed either way.” Glane's good humor was infectious, and Mara found herself musing about a hot bath to wash the trail mud off after too many days of thin meals and burlap bedrolls.

    “And my boys?” the man called, nodding towards his insensate comrades.

    “The same,” Mara replied. Thief and harrier though he might be, at least he looked out for his own. That might be useful.


    1. Oh, I sense a longer story here. I already like Mara and Glane.

  2. "Man up already. You can't run away screaming like a little girl."

    Jason's sneer rung in Luca's ears as he caught up with him in the alley. Lungs bursting with the effort to just breathe, Luca could only glare at Jason. How come Luca was puffing like a freight train, yet his best friend didn't even seem out of breath? He wasn't that out of shape, damn it, unless…

    Hands up in the age old act of surrender Luca backed away slowly, until a brick wall stopped him. Jason stood watching him, hands in pockets, and looking to all intents and purposes as though he was just enjoying an evening stroll.

    Then again, Jason hadn’t seen the woman that he loved turn into a monster in front of his very eyes.

    Luca shut his eyes and shook his head to get rid of the terrifying images invading his brain.

    "You didn't fucking see her, man. She's a … a, fuck…"

    He couldn't even bring himself to utter that word, not in a dark alley, only illuminated by the moon. The grey orb hung low in the sky, mocking him with its intense and deathly stare.

    "If you truly loved her, what she is shouldn't make a difference to you. I'm disappointed in you."

    Jason's glowing eyes pinned him in place with their intensity, and his fangs showed in his smile.

    "After all she couldn't help being bitten…"

    This time Luca did scream, until his world went black.

    249 words


    1. Wow, didn't see that coming, but what a great way to bring it about. Poor Luca - wonder if this is it for him or if he'll have a while to get used to a new way of being.

  3. “Got a new soul for processing, Ms. Ross.”

    The rumbling hiss of a voice pulled my attention from the scroll I was translating. Seven feet tall, shrouded in black. Next to him, a clearly terrified young man. I eyeballed him, guessing late twenties. As the saying went, too young to die. He clutched a messenger bag to his chest, almost hiding the crimson blossom staining his white dress shirt.

    “You know I got promoted, right?” I shoved aside the scroll with a sigh.

    Death’s skeletal hand emerged from his robes, a handful of papers in his bony grip. Like all things in this part of reality, it smoldered a bit. I took the paperwork and blew out a burgeoning flame before it could go up in—well, yeah. Anyway. We’d tried company-wide email, but electronics couldn’t take the heat generated by the big boss. So for anything coming from on high, so to speak, we went old school.

    Death patted the soul on the shoulder. Poor guy looked woozy.

    Don’t let the look fool you. Death wasn’t a bad guy. He was a genuine people person. Polite, too. He let the dead pack, for pity’s sake. Damn near everyone came to Hell toting pictures of loved ones and smartphones or laptops. And he loved internet cat videos.

    “You can’t run away screaming like a little girl. So come on up,” I said. The man scooted up to my desk. “Remember your name?”

    “Zeke Callen.”

    “Welcome to Hell, Mr. Callen.”

    249 words

    1. That would be my hell, endless paperwork at a nowhere desk processing folks who don't have a clue. Good story.

  4. ~~~~~

    “You never thought we’d get out of there alive?”

    “Nope. Never should I have listened to you, you sorry, old sod. More the fool me. But we enlisted and made it through.”

    “You couldn’t run away screaming like a little girl.”

    “That’s really not a good saying, is it? I mean, have you ever heard little girls scream?”

    “Yeah. They scare the hell out of me.”

    “My point exactly,” he shuddered.

    The two old men turned their gazes out over the lake again. The tranquil, black waters never even rippled.

    War had nothing on little girls.

    The wisdom of Grandfathers.


    Word count: 100 on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011

    1. This is sweet. I can just see the two old friends hanging out at the lake.

  5. Bronco carried the tray containing breakfast, coffee, and the vase with a single red rose to the chair where Lindsey reclined in the sunshine. He wanted her to stay here, with him, come hell or high water.

    Now all you have to do is ask her. Easy. Heh, the only easy day was yesterday.

    Bronco set the tray down on the end table and crouched at her feet as she opened her eyes. The warm chocolate of her irises melted any ice left in his heart and he tried to ignore the increased rhythm as the time neared.

    “Lindsey, I know we haven’t seen each other in three weeks, but they’ve been the worst three weeks since I trained with the SEALs.” He shored up his courage against that being a deal-breaker. “When I met you in Vegas, I thought of you as one helluva guardian angel come to haul my ass outta the fire. Beautiful, smart, resourceful, and sexy as all get out, you charmed me like no one has before. I don’t like to ignore luckily acquired charms, so before I lose my chance, will you marry me?” He held up a flat golden band between his two fingers.

    Lindsey stared for three heartbeats before she squealed and threw her arms around him. “Yes!”

    He laughed as he caught her and snuggled her close.

    “Now you can’t run away.”

    “Screaming like a little girl didn’t make me run. I think you’re okay.”

    “I didn’t scream. I squeaked in delight. Big difference.”

    250 ineligible #WIP500 words

    1. I like the marriage proposal approach.

    2. Dammit, woman! Finish this so I can beta read it!!!!

  6. The Wildlings were suddenly all around them, screaming and thrashing the unruly forest along either side of the trail.

    Mark swore under his breath as he watched the girls race back the way they came even while he prepared himself for the inevitable fight.

    Why did they always do that? The Wildlings would have a trap established back there to catch them; they wouldn’t get far. The only thing in question here was which party, the guards or the Wildlings, would get to keep the foolish slaves and whether the guards would be joining the girls on the auction block.

    Turning back to face the danger, he was surprised to see both Gabrielle and Lissa standing back to back, watching the Wildlings and seemingly ready to take them on. Travis was right to keep a special eye on them. Given half the chance, Mark was pretty sure they’d brave the forest before willingly walking to the slave market.

    Seeing Travis, Mark moved himself closer to the two women to show they were appropriately guarded from escape. He caught Gabrielle’s raised eyebrow and Lissa’s scowl.

    “Surprised to see us standing?” Lissa asked.

    For answer, Mark looked down the trail where the others had run.

    “They’ll be trapped,” Lissa stated matter of fact. How’d she know that? Women didn’t know the forest.

    “Besides,” Gabrielle added, “you can’t run away screaming like a little girl every time something new comes up.”

    Lissa gave her an approving bump just before the Wildlings engaged.

    249 words

  7. Soul-eater

    She was a soul-eater, sprite that silently evolves until hunger fully grows, hidden behind ribs in the tiny heart… the most cruel part of her life’s having soul inside. Feeling everything… every noiseless & quite scream, cry, pain, every salty tear… that’s a real curse… one suffer from it - others enjoy. They don’t have choice as the hunger grows we all need to eat & drink something to survive, stay alive, have energy to keep our existence in this world a bit longer. No matter how painful it is, life is still better than death, because death means not existing… there’s no ‘other’ world for soul-eaters… just this one & one life. It should be her second meal…
    Young girl half-alive was shivering & could hardly breathe, she hasn’t eaten for too long… being too scared of the monster she was… feeding like that was a torture for her… she resisted as long as she could, so now it was a life-death matter…

    - You can’t run away screaming like a little girl, - her Dad said in a harsh voice. – You’re not a child anymore…

    She knew he was right so she didn’t… She ran towards it, accepting her hunger, crying like a Banshee, putting all her despair into it, because only like that she could have a few minutes of silence inside her head, not hearing the voices of all she’s eaten… It hurts, but she wants to live… and who doesn’t?

    245 words (without title)


  8. "You can’t run away screaming like a little girl."

    I glanced back at Shawn as he maneuvered his way over the jetty. It'd be easy to knock him down but I didn't want to kill him.

    "Maybe not, but I can run away."

    He laughed at me and I wanted to slap him. Mostly because he was right.

    As I climbed down the last section of rock, making my way to the beach below, I thought of the diamond ring offered to me the night before. It was beautiful, no doubt. But what that ring represented, not so attractive.

    "Stace, Rick's been gone seven years...don't you think it's time?"

    I felt the familiar ache at the sound of his name. Some things never changed.

    "Depends on what you are talking about, Shawn. It took me almost a year before I could change the sheets on our bed and four years to get rid of his clothes. I still pay the bill on his cell phone just so I can hear the sound of his voice before I go to sleep every night."

    My voice choked in my throat. " I don't know how long is long enough for anything anymore."

    I heard the exasperated sigh behind me. I'd grown accustomed to it over the last thirty eight years, my brother had been born with it, it seemed.

    A fresh onslaught of memories invaded my thoughts as I reached the shore and suddenly seven years didn't seem long enough at all.

    250 words

    1. I liked it, Cynthia! Superb writing! Question...what happened the previous night with the ring? Did she receive another wedding proposal?

  9. Mercedes watched the tall, handsome stranger enter the bar. Adrenaline flowed deep within her at the possibility, hoping he was the one as butterflies fluttered wildly within.
    “Mercedes?” She could only manage a nod as the stranger sat. “You look absolutely delicious,” Adam whispered softly as her luscious, ruby red lips cupped the rim of her glass and her sculpted cheeks flushed brightly.
    Her mobile invaded the intense moment. “Sorry, my friend, checking I’m not with a serial killer,” she joked as she reached for the phone but his hand reached it first.
    “I don’t think you’ll need this. It’s just you and me. Now, how about we take this upstairs and order room service.”
    “You’re very forward.”
    “Just like what I see and know what I want,” he replied. She felt his eyes wander, lingering over her body as he stood, reaching out for her hand. They left the bar, with him escorting her by the elbow. “Just so you can’t run away screaming like a little girl,” he warned, clutching Mercedes tightly, leading her to his room.
    “I’ve never done this before,” Mercedes admitted breathlessly as he caressed her neck with feather like kisses as he kicked the door shut.

    “Shit,” Adam moaned, eyeing the time. “We’re late picking up the kids.”
    “Talk about spoiling the mood.”
    “There’ll be other times for role plays Alice or shall I call you Mercedes? Now get your arse up before we have to explain to my mother why we’re late.”



    1. LOL Yeah, that might be a little TMI for grandmothers.


  10. “You can’t run away screaming like a little girl.”

    “But I am a little girl."

    “On the outside.”

    I crossed my arms over my little-girl chest and blew my bangs out of my eyes. Before I could say another word he grabbed me in a bear hug and dove behind the rocks. Michael exited the roll on his feet, gun in hand. That’s my man.

    “Don’t look at me like that when you’re…like that. It’s wrong on so many levels.”

    Eight heavy boots crashing through the brush cut off my reply. I pressed against the rocks, curling up as small as possible. Pretty damned small, since I was trapped in the body of a ten year-old girl. The men couldn’t see me even as they hauled Michael to his feet.

    “Where’s the other one?”

    “What other one?”

    One of them drove the butt of his gun into Michael’s stomach. Once he finished grunting and spitting, Michael laughed. Jackass would get himself killed and then who’d help me get back into my real body?

    I left the safety of the rocks and two weapons swung in my direction. Ruger SR-762s. Like mine—which I couldn’t heft even if I had it. With a growl I reached out, grinning like a maniac as their hearts exploded. No finesse. The little girl’s myopia turned them all into a blur of manflesh and black uniforms. Luckily Michael was wearing green.

    “Now they know you’re here, Jeff.”

    “You’re the one who said we couldn’t run.”

    250 words

    1. “Don’t look at me like that when you’re…like that. It’s wrong on so many levels.”

      LOLOL Love it!

  11. The click of my camera was the only sound around me as I knelt in front of a newly budded bachelor button. I snapped a photo of the bud with dew on it, then stood to see what else was blooming today. We're into June now and the gardens are exploding with color.

    I turned and spotted a deer just on the edge of the house. Quickly changing lenses, I zoomed in and caught a perfect portrait, as the deer turned to look at me. Another click and I caught it leaping our fence, off to a more secluded place to graze. Smiling, I put the short lens back and looked at the garden. Spotting a small web, I moved forward, kneeling in the damp grass. Focusing on the droplets of dew, I took a photo, checked it, then froze.

    Was that a sp-sp-spider? Focusing on the web again, I started to sweat. Staring back at me was a critter with eight tiny legs and two enormous eyes. His fangs dripped with hunger and poison. I snapped a picture, trying to pretend I wasn't terrified of the poisonous creature. But he's going to eat me, I'm sure of it.

    Springing to my feet, I licked my dry lips. 'You can't run away screaming like a little girl' a little voice told me. The hell I can't! I didn't scream but I did run like hell for the hose, intent on drowning the spider before it ate me.

    247 words

  12. A Baptism of Fire

    “Come on, Michael,” the Captain said. “You can’t run away screaming like a little girl every time the ralgors attack. Not if you want the men to respect you.”

    Michael scuffed the ground with his foot and lowered his eyes. “I know that, Sir. It’s just that…”

    “Well? Out with it man.”

    “The ralgors are rather big and scary.”

    The captain shook his head and let out a long sigh. “I don’t know why your father sent you out here. King’s son or not, you’re no good to anyone.”

    Michael looked up. “Actually, Captain, my father didn’t send me. I volunteered.”

    “You volun—” Michael could see the Captain was having difficult processing that. “Why would you do that?”

    “Because I’m weak,” Michael replied. “I’ve spent my entire life being kept safe behind castle walls while men like you risk their lives to protect me. I chose to do this because I want to be the kind of King – no, the kind of man – who understands that sacrifice.”

    He looked at Michael with wide eyes.

    “I am weak,” Michael continued. “I do get scared, but I want to change that.”

    The Captain’s jaw clenched. “You selfish bastard,” he hissed. “Do you have any notion of the position you’ve put me in?”

    “I do, Sir.”

    They stood there for what felt like a long time.

    “Good,” the Captain said finally. “That, at least, I can work with.”

    241 words


  13. Honey Moon

    I climbed the turning staircase of butter-smooth wood on trembling legs, my white dress cascading behind me. At the top, the door was closed. For a moment, all I could think was to dash down the stairs, past the dancing villagers, and out into the night.

    “Stop it, Missy.” I chided myself – a habit I’d taken to in the long days alone. “You can't run away screaming like a little girl.”

    Bolstering my courage with lies, I entered the room. There he stood, already naked, even more magnificent than my imagination. Nothing but moonlight falling over sculpted muscles, broad shoulders and hair like night.

    Black hair? My mind skittered sideways. Fear and desire, a most intoxicating nectar, churned in my belly turning my limbs molten. The June night was suddenly too cool against my fevered skin and I was grateful for the veil of honeycomb lace.

    “Welcome, little rose.” I knew that honeyed voice. As he turned, the face of my estranged beloved emerged from the shadows.


    “Your selfish bridegroom’s overdone the mead.” He gestured to the disheveled heap in the chaise. “How shameful. Abandoning a young queen on the eve of her… deflowering.”

    Something deeper than lust flashed in his amber eyes. Long fingers reverently lifted my veil. His hands cupped my cheeks like captured butterflies as he leaned close.

    “May I?”

    I pressed eager lips to his in answer. Maybe I couldn’t marry him, but this stolen moment was ours for the taking.

    248 words (including title)

    1. Nice. I'd sure like to know the rest of the story. :D

  14. Mac paced the hallway outside the exam room. He’d been ordered out by the doctor and Hannah. Their mating was still fresh enough his wolf prowled just beneath the surface of his skin. His human half understood why another man was touching Hannah. His wolf damn sure wanted that shit to stop.

    The door cracked open and the nurse slipped out. He watched her shiver as his glare pinned her against the wall.

    “I’m going in now.” He didn’t give her a choice.

    The doctor shook his head, stepped back, and disappeared through the door. Hannah scrambled off the exam table and scurried into a corner. Mac figured the doctor had confirmed Hannah’s pregnancy.

    “You can’t run away screaming like a little girl.” He stalked her.

    “The hell I can’t.” Hannah gulped.

    Mac gentled his voice and clasped her hand in his. “I love you.”

    She swallowed. Hard. His gaze fastened on her throat before lifting to her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, babe. We’re in this together.”

    Hannah radiated stubbornness from the lift of her chin to her glinting eyes even as she swiped the tears on her cheeks. “How can you be so calm?”

    “Because I’ve waited all my life for you, for this moment.” A proud smirk crinkled his cheeks. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

    Her face molded into a panicked mask.

    “We can do this, darlin’.” He folded her into his embrace.

    “Do I have a choice?”


    She sighed against his chest. “Okay then.”
    249 words on the WIP (compilation Moonstruck novel)

  15. Stone steps nearly obscured by moldering leaves led uphill through ancient trees overgrown with wild grapevines and Kellia smiled as she placed a foot on the first step, only to jerk it back as something scurried out from under her boot.

    A small lizard glared up at her as if accusing her of trespassing.

    “Sorry, little dragon.” She bowed, amused. “May I pass?”

    She had the odd sense that she was being appraised, her worthiness debated, then it moved aside and she laughed at her imaginings as she ascended the steps.

    Centuries before they had led to a manor house. Now there was nothing but a stone staircase leading down into what had been a basement. One wall was caving in and she could hear water trickling through its stones.

    An unnatural stillness sent a chill through her and for a moment she considered turning back.

    “You’re a warrior,” she said aloud. “You can’t run away screaming like a little girl.”

    Her resolve faltered when another lizard slithered out from the ruined wall. Rising onto its hind legs it spread its wings and glared down at her.

    “Who dares trespass?”

    Lost in awe she could only stare at the certain death that towered above her. “You are beautiful,” she breathed at last.

    The dragon smiled – could dragons smile? – and touched her hair with one claw.

    “Return, DragonSword, when you have shown them proof.” His tail curled forward and he tore a scale from it and handed it to her.

    249 words per Word

  16. "That’s why you forced me to come?"

    "Maybe." Harry grabbed my arm before I could flee. Tugging me against his pinstripes, he whispered in my ear. “You can’t run away screaming like a little girl, Beck, he'll see.”

    His logic thwarted my escape so I ripped myself free and put my back to the ballroom's entryway instead. Even turned, I heard Jackson, who I'd purged from my dreams and barred from my steeled heart, laughing along with every blonde and buxom lobbyist on the guest list.

    "What is he doing here?"

    "It’s an inauguration party, Beck. Why wouldn't the campaign’s biggest contributor make an appearance?" Harry grinned his sly I-knew-you-fell-for-him-before-you-did grin.

    I could have clubbed him. Blood and bruises, however, would have clashed with gowns and tuxedos, and I’d worked too damn hard for votes, for dollars, for tonight, to make a scene. Clutching the nearest balloon-decorated chair, I bowed my head and hid between walls of raven hair.

    "The election's done, Beck. Nothing's in the way." Harry perched his fingertips on my bare shoulders. “No conflicts of interest. No reporters. No deadlines.” He spun me around, putting Jackson’s acknowledging wave in view. "Nothing but carpet."

    Harry’s gentle shove tipped me off balance. My heels took the hint before I could point them elsewhere and I tottered forward, to where Jackson parted the sea of breasts and curls, drawing ever closer while the little girl inside me quaked.

    Word count: 238

  17. I ran and ran as if to escape my dream but it was not a dream. I'd almost been killed when the two people I trusted the most betrayed me. They did not just betray me. They betrayed this country. But right now I could only think about myself. My superior at the agency and my lover had both conspired to kill me when I learned of their plans.

    I ran into the subway station at the corner of Worth Street but then thought better of it. Cameras would pick me up and they would have people waiting for me at every exit.

    I ran into an alley behind a hotel stopping behind a dumpster to catch my breath. How did I not see this sooner. James and Karin were way more than senior agents heading our unit. They'd become lovers. All those months I'd thought James loved me. What a fool I was.

    You can't run away screaming like a little girl, I told myself. Find Charlie and get his help. I knew I had no chance on my own. I could trust Charlie. Or could I? I didn't really know anymore. Nothing in this business is ever as it appears was one of the first lessons I'd been taught in my training course.

    "I've been waiting for your call, Julia," Charlie said. "I've sent a car."

    Relieved, I started to answer but stopped. How did he know where I was?

    Cate Derham
    242 words

  18. “Seriously, Alex. You have to stay quiet, here by this tree, until I get back, no matter what you hear. It’ll be a little scary, but, you can’t run away screaming like a little girl.”

    “’Pends on what I hear, Tank.” Alex returned. “Might have to run off, in my big girl panties, screamin like a big girl. Ya s’pose that’ll be okay?”

    “No ‘screamin’ will be okay.” Ignoring her attempt at humor, “Fact is, no running off either. How am I supposed to get back over, if you leave? You’ve got to watch my back when I’m climbing out.”

    “I know, I know! Just kidding”, Alex smiled. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

    With that Tank leaped the chain link fence like it was a low hurdle, and darted between several cars making his way to the old garage that was a ways off.

    Alex ducked a little, but leaned mostly, against the tree.

    It was not long before one, then another, then the barks of a chorus of junk yard dogs could be heard, fast approaching the car path that Tank had disappeared through.

    Alex straightened, as Tank’s hushed shout, “Alex!” could be heard from within the barking.

    As Alex came from behind the tree, Tank tossed a jug over the fence. Catching it, Alex backed up from its weight, but eyes on Tank brought immediate laughter.

    The lead dog’s teeth just missed her boyfriend’s rear as Tank scooted over the fence.

    Stolen shine was always the best.

    250 words

  19. Backfire

    Kevin watched as the bank robbers gathered around the phone, debating their options.

    “If we’re lucky they’ll make a mistake and we can slip into the lobby” he told his partner.

    Sean snorted. “Uhm, hate to break this to you, but we wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t made a rather large mistake.”

    Kevin rolled his eyes. “Okay, if they get distracted long enough, we can slip into the lobby and blend in with the other hostages.”

    Sean’s eyes narrowed as he studied the trio of would be robbers. “Not bloody likely. Dammit we need to get in there before the cops come. There’s no way we can explain our being back here.”

    Despite himself, Kevin chuckled. “What?”

    Kevin rolled his eyes and nodded towards the robbers. “They’re going to ruin everything.”

    “Not, if we play this right—the police will be focused on them and we’ll walk out of here without anyone being the wiser.”

    “Sure, but we still have to get into the lobby without being noticed.”
    Kevin felt his stomach in his drop as he recognized the tone in his partner’s voice.


    “We could simply be found and dragged into the lobby by our captors…”

    Kevin shook his head in disbelief.” “You can’t run away screaming like a little girl.”

    “Why not?” Sean asked, his eyes twinkling. “If you can’t sneak in… get thrown in.”

    “Sometimes I really hate you…”

    235 words (236 with title)

  20. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. :)


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