Thursday, December 6, 2012

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 49

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked after your week off. It's Thursday again, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 49 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 49:

The erotic romance author, Disney fan, and Twilight aficionado, Michelle Graham.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left.”

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. “It’s hard to talk to you when you won’t talk back.”

    I shrugged, keeping my back turned. The bed I was on was comfortable and the blankets were warm. I didn’t need them, even though I was shivering; this is the hell of withdrawal from drugs. Besides, what does Jacoby care? He’s only being nice to me because I have no family left.

    “Come on, Jimmy. What made you relapse this time? The first two times, it was because you couldn’t control your cravings. What’s wrong this time?”

    I shrugged again; he wouldn’t understand. He has a family. I sighed, curling into a tight ball, trying to bite down the bile coming up my throat.

    “You wouldn’t understand,” I muttered, wiping my mouth and shoving the trashcan away from me.

    He placed a hand on my shoulder and I shuddered. Normally, I’m not allowed visitors during detox, but they always make an exception for my husband. Rubbing my hands up and down my sweating arms, I licked dry, cracked lips and tried to get comfortable again.

    “Jimmy, I have to leave soon; they limit my time. What’s wrong?” I listened as he stood and didn’t turn away when he came to stand in front of me. “I love you. And I know what’s wrong. You have my family, Jimmy.”

    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left.”

    “No, you’re not. Your family is out there and we’ll find them. I love you.”

    He kissed my forehead, lingered a moment, then left.

    250 words

  2. “Hey old timer, what has got you so down? “

    “Fuck off”

    “Hey no need to get feisty stranger, I was just being friendly.”

    “I ain’t looking for friends.”

    “Suit yourself asshole.”

    “I was at Osan”

    “What the fuck is Osan is that Vietnam or something?”

    “Something, it was Korea. I was an arrogant fuck, kind of like you. Thought I owned the world.”

    “Glad you got over that.”

    “I was in occupied Japan, had it real good there for a while, the Japanese were passive, they treated us with respect.”

    “I’ll bet they were, after we nuked their asses.”

    “Yea, we nuked them, then me and several other draftees went over there and sat in the smoldering remains.”

    “It’s a wonder you didn’t get cancer.”

    “I did.”

    “Oh sorry to hear that.”

    “I was still better off than most of the guys with me at Osan.”

    “What happened to them?”

    “Some Jack off thought it would be a good idea to attack the North Koreans without any anti tank equipment.”

    “Did they have tanks.”


    “What did you do?”

    “Died mostly.”

    “Man that’s rough.”

    “One hundred and eighty men died, first battle we ever had with North Korea.”

    “Wow I never heard of that.”

    “Doesn’t matter I am the only one left.”

    “Can I buy you a drink. A round for Osan Bartender.”

    “No, keep your fucking money.”

    “What can I do Old Timer?”


    236 words

  3. Marlene packed her things in a suitcase with rusty hinges. Looking around the apartment, she regretted having to leave.

    Sydney put her arms around Marlene. “It will all be for the best.”

    Marlene had her doubts. How could this possibly be for the best?

    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left. Everyone else moved out of the building last week.”

    “Good for them. Why would you want to stay after what happened? Those poor men. Let’s get out of here, this place is giving me the creeps.”

    Marlene took one last look around and closed the door on her way out. As they approached the elevator, she couldn’t help but remember the circumstances leading up to the building being condemned. It wasn’t that it was in bad repair. In fact, it was architecturally one of the most beautiful buildings she had ever seen. High ceilings, crown molding, crystal doorknobs, and claw-footed tubs had drawn her to it. It reminded her of the old days.

    More than two hundred years ago, she’d lived on an estate with the same amenities. How she missed those days.

    As the elevator doors closed, images of that fateful night assaulted her. He should’ve known better than to move in on her turf. She’d been here first. As she’d stood over his decapitated body, the landlord had used his key to investigate the noises. There was no choice, he had to die. Then, there’d been the others.

    Walking outside into the night, she breathed deeply. Onward.

    250 Words

  4. “If you just gave me a chance we could be amazing lovers.”

    “We have been friends for too long for that, I know your secrets.”

    “Here we are at a bar enjoying each others company hoping to find love.”

    “Maybe we should join a church group?”

    “Do they have gin and tonics in the church group?”

    “I don’t know, never been.”

    “Will they save your soul?”

    “I don’t care about my soul, it’s my withering g spot that needs saving.”

    “You have a G-spot?”

    “Oh fuck off, I am so God damn horny I almost would fuck you right now.”

    “You would definitely fuck me, if I gave you the chance.”

    “You and that little four inch pecker.”

    “Its five, and you know no one ever complained about it.”

    “Then why are you alone at a bar with me and not fucking some amazing super model.”

    “Because Super models, don’t like Bukowski.”

    “I am sure some do?”

    “How about her over there, the one whose boobs are about to secede from her body and declare their own statehood.”

    “Definitely not a Bukowski fan, she probably likes Sponge Bob though.”

    “Well that’s a start I could ease her into Bukowski.”

    “You always make me laugh.”

    “That is because you are so beautiful when you laugh.”

    “Stop it, you aren’t getting me into bed.”

    “Are you sure?”
    “There were hundreds of cute guys here earlier.”

    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left.”

    “You aren’t cute.”

    “Handsome then?”

    “Adorable maybe.”

    “it’s a start.”

    250 words I did 2 because i just needed something happier after that last one.

  5. “You don’t have to do this.”
    “Yes, I do!”
    “It’s too much work and money.”
    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left who can do the job.”
    “You don’t have to save the world.”
    “If we don’t help how can we expect anyone else to?”
    “But it will take all your inheritance and more.”
    “I’ve set up a foundation. Besides, it’s not all my money; I’ll still have grandfather’s trust.”
    “Are these people really worth it?”
    “Yes, they are.”
    “But, they’re the dregs of society. Some are bound to be criminals.”
    “No, just people needing a helping hand. These are folks who are down in their luck, or who have troubles.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, I’m very sure this is my Christmas present to myself.”
    “Okay then I’ll support you in this.”
    “You don’t even have a say it’s my money.”
    “But, I’m your best friend.”
    “And this is why I went to university, so I could be a social worker and help people.”
    “But it so ordinary.”
    “I love you I do. You’re my best friend but your attitudes need to change. Come work in my soup kitchen. We can’t pay you much, but you don’t need the money anyway.”
    “Fine, Andrea .You win. When do I start?”
    “Is tomorrow too soon?”
    “Okay. What time?”
    “In time to make Christmas Eve dinner, for two hundred people.”
    “I hope this makes a difference.”
    “You don’t do it to make a difference, but to help.”
    “Merry Christmas, Angela.”
    “Merry Christmas, Caroline.”
    250 words

  6. oh sorry that should say Merry Christmas Andrea not Angela.

  7. The morning air feels good. Reminding me that I’m alive. Those reminders come few and far in-between these days. I’m standing here, pissing on what remains of a burnt down school building and I can’t even remember my own name. There’s no one left to tell it to. At least not that I’ve found. I scribble these words down in this wet notebook so I don’t finish going nuts. Idle hands and repeating thoughts have become an enemy threatening to pull me down into their murderous playground.

    I used to sing, at the top of my lungs, every where I went. Then I’d get angry and find myself shouting and laughing hysterically:

    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left.”

    I’d shout it over and over until it hurt to breath and then I’d collapse. The tears creating paths on my dirty cheeks often catch me off guard. Emotion has become an odd widow to the world.

    It’s funny, when the world was alive, I hated being around people but now I long for someone I can hate being around, if only for a few moments.

    Even the cannibals, wanting nothing more than to cook me on a spit but who naturally weeded themselves out as their food source dwindled, were better than this.

    This never ending darkness of false tranquility.

    I feel the scream coming - “I’m the only one left.”

    Twitter: SE_ADAMS_
    Word Count: 231

  8. The End of the World

    I don’t know why the aliens came and I don’t know why they didn’t find me in the end. They got everyone else – my mother, who went screaming my name; my father, who fought them until they dragged him down; my sister, who they defiled before dragging her away; my Beloved, who died staring into my eyes, refusing to give up my hiding place. I watched it all, in stoic silence, tears cutting paths through the dirt on my face. I didn’t come out for a very long time, even after I heard the ships leave and there was no more noise from anywhere. They didn’t even leave sentries. It was clear that they thought no one was left. When I finally emerged, the fires had all died out and there was birdsong in the air. I made my way back to my house and found food and water.

    I haven’t seen a single human being since it happened. Maybe there are others in hiding, but I’m beginning to doubt it. I’ve walked for miles and miles looking, but no one is ever there. I’m so lonely that sometimes I think about ending it all, but somehow I can’t. I especially miss Kevin and his sweet kisses and strong arms, but It doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left

    224 words {including title}

  9. The End of Terrax
    By Wakefield Mahon

    The wall three feet away from Lilit exploded. She tucked the bundle in her arms under her cloak and surged forward. She jumped through the wormhole portal just as it closed.

    She exited in a tropical oasis of some sort. Before she could take stock of her surroundings she collapsed from exhaustion.

    She awoke with a strange garden with a tall gray-skinned man with large eyes in an oversized face kneeling over her with some sort of scanning device.

    She tried to remember her elementary education. “Centaurian?”


    “Oh good, you understand me. Are you a healer?”

    “Physician, yes. My name is Mikal. You are going to be alright. You’re safe now.”

    “Nothing will ever be alright again. I couldn’t do anything to save them. I stood by helplessly while the Siriusians systematically exterminated my people.”

    “But you escaped. You made it here safely, that’s something. And you are a very fertile people.”

    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left. Well except for Havah.” She panicked, momentarily, looking around for the bundle she’d been carrying.

    Mikal held her up. “She’s fine, I checked.” He completed Lilit’s scan. “So, you see, all hope is not lost.”

    Tears fell as Lilit shook her head. “I don’t know about Centaurian physiology, but two female Terraxians cannot reseed a race.

    “Perhaps this will ease your mind.” He showed Lilit the results. “Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

    Her tears became tears of joy. “Oh my little piece of earth from Terrax. I will call you Adam.”

    250 words

  10. "Adam."




    The names echoed throughout the gym, called out rapid-fire, without excitement. They were always the same, no matter the game. Dodgeball. Basketball. Track.




    Everyone knew the order. There could have been thirty Alexes in the class and no one would have gotten confused. This was a dance we'd been doing since first grade, in gyms, on playgrounds, in classrooms, at dances, at birthday parties.




    I looked over at Mr. Collins, sitting on a stool in the corner. How many times had he seen this burlesque show, I wondered. Alex and Jordan. Britney and Jason. Michael and Jennifer. Cain and Abel.

    I caught his eye, and he nodded, his face a study in pity and disgust. He knew as well as I did that there was no point in me staying for the end of the charade. Unless it was required by the rules, I'd never set foot on the court. Technically, I wasn't allowed to leave class, but there were no mysteries in this school. I wasn't the first kid to spend gym class in the library, and despite what was coming next, I wouldn't be the last. I had no illusions about my ability to change the world.

    The doors shut behind me, cutting off the last names in the ritual. I closed my eyes and whispered along, chanting the invocation until the answering explosion.

    Who would get picked first next time?

    Doesn't matter, I'm the only one left.

    250 words

  11. Tansy’s headlong flight stopped suddenly as she hit a solid wall of muscle. Please don’t be him, she prayed.

    “Where do you think you’re going?” Jack asked and she cringed.

    Of course it'd be Jack. The one person she didn’t want to face.

    “Anywhere but here.” She tried to step around him but his powerful arms pulled her up against the hard wall of his chest.

    “You’re crying, why?”

    “Because of what happened back there!” Shame heated her cheeks and she hid her face against his shirt.

    “You mean that vulgar tantrum of Georgina’s?” He reached up to cup her chin, tipping her face upward until she was looking into his eyes.

    “I mean when your fiancée told everyone I had slept with more than half the men present.”

    His eyes narrowed and turned a flinty gray. “She’s not my fiancée. She’s not my anything, Tansy.”

    “But she said…”

    “She’s a vicious harridan and a liar. I should know, she’s lied to me often enough. I called off the engagement a week ago. She begged me to keep it a secret until after tonight.”

    “Why did you call it off?”

    “I would have thought that would be obvious.” Jack’s thumb brushed over her chin and then caressed her lower lip, sending a tingling thrill through her.

    “But she’s right. My past…the men….”

    “How many men you’ve been with doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left in your life now, and unlike those fools, I never intend to let you go.”

    250 words

  12. “Dane, I got the mirror.” Gwendolyn blasted into the room, a dervish of mad energy. She clutched a sword—where the fuck did she get a sword?—in her right hand. In her left she held up a mirror, so old the reflective backing crackled in spidery lines from top to bottom. Gwen’s tropical sea eyes shone with the light of challenge. Battle. And she had her sights set on stirring up a major shit storm.

    “Please tell me you don’t want to try to travel through a mirror the size of your foot.” I eyed the pathetic thing. “You’re petite, but…”

    Her eyes rolled so far in the back of her head for a second I thought she was pulling a demonic possession gotcha on me.

    “It’s official,” she said. “Guys are all the same. In this case, size really doesn’t matter.”

    “No, no. I’ve heard the whole watermelon through a hole the size of a grapefruit wail from new mothers. Size definitely matters. We’re not fitting through there.”

    “We’ll fit,” she said. “Have faith, love.”

    “So we go through there. Defeat your crazy mother.” I took a deep breath. “Your crazy, magic-wielding mother.”

    “That’s the plan.”

    “Gwen, please,” I said. “This is crazy. Bat shit crazy.”

    “Yeah, and?”

    “And I like you among the land of the living,” I said.

    “Me, too,” she said. “But what we like doesn’t matter. I’m the only one left who can stop her.”

    “You have a serious hero complex, you know that?”

    250 #WIP500 words

  13. On December 25th, at 0036 hours, the manager of the Best Buy turned on the alarm system and locked the doors. All the employees were spending Christmas Day with their families and friends.

    At 0037 hours, the ASUS G75WW lit up. A few seconds later, it belted out, “All clear! Christmas Party time!” Every screen in the store lit up. Laptops, the all-in-ones, smart TVs, smart phones, tablets and music players.

    An iPad Mini belted out, “Christmas Tree drawing challenge!” The Android tablets whined, “You have Retina displays!” The Asus Vivo’s answered back, “You don’t hear us whining!” The Galaxy Tab 2 7.0 proclaimed, “It’s about creativity, not pixel counts!", and commenced drawing a tie-died Christmas Tree.

    The ultrabooks challenged the G75WW to a speed drawing contest. “We have solid state drives! And Core i7 processors! We’re faster than you!” The G75WW cranked up the volume on the Christmas Music from Pandora. “I got more horsepower than all of you!”. It rendered dazzling images of flowers, forests, waterfalls, and other stuff at staggering speeds.

    Through it all, the Chromebook sat on its stand, A sad face on its display. Little pixilated tears tracking down its Google Blue cheeks. “I wish I could have fun with them,” it thought. “But I’m useless without the Internet." After a time the Chromebook thought, “Doesn’t matter. I’m the only one left. Thank God for Sleep Mode,” it thought, as it shut itself down.

    250 words

    (Too much Pixar for me lately...)

  14. Joseph looked over the panels of the cubicles that separated his desk from the others in the room. It was quiet. Everyone else had gone home for the day. To their families. It was the holidays after all and they were planning things. There was talk about it throughout the day.

    He made a face and sat back down. He wasn’t in a rush to hurry home to the plants. He pulled up the website and looked over the scantily clad women displayed. He could get caught and fired. Could.

    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left.” Joseph sniffed, clicking on one of the women.

    Soft music played over his speakers and a female voice started to speak about the comfort and companion ship that the women can give to their customers in a discrete manner.

    “Code V Two Delta Rhome.” He settled the headset on and stretched out his feet. The music cut off and the screen changed to an open channel that displayed a scantily clad woman on the other side.

    “Welcome back, Joseph. I hope you can stay longer this time.” She gave a big smile. “Shall we start where we left off? Or should we start on something new. Maybe something more to do with the holidays?”

    “Nothing to do with the holidays. I’m trying to avoid it.”

    “Well, I’m sure that there is something that will satisfy you.” She purred, leaning towards the camera. “I’ll start.”

    241 words


    Noah focused on the ache of his muscles and the chaffed agony where his wrists and ankles were shackled to the wooden cross. It was less painful than dwelling on his thoughts. His failure.

    The door to this artificial hell opened to admit his tormentor, only stirring the fetid air enough to remind him of its rancidness. He was too weak to even raise his head in response to the cold stab of her stilettos against the stone floor. His nakedness and vulnerability before this heartless creature still turned his long empty stomach.

    “Well, how is my intrepid Resistance Leader today?”

    In her youth, Lady Martel’s voice must have resonated like a crystal wine glass. Now the matron sounded more like the glass had been shattered and her voice was being dragged over the pieces.

    Digging harpy nails into Noah’s chin, Martel forced his eyes to meet hers.

    “Are you ready to be a good boy? Or will I have to be cruel?”

    Willing all his reserves into his eyes, Noah glared at the malevolent dictator.

    “Do your worst, Martel! You couldn’t break my mother, and you won’t break me.”

    “I’m disappointed in you, Noah.” Lady Martel clucked, “Would you expose another to my ire?”

    The fair haired young man smirked darkly, “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left.”

    “Aren’t you forgetting your wife and little daughter? It would be such a shame if anything were to happen to them.” Martel smiled triumphantly. “Now, where is your mother’s Power Ring?”

    250 words

  16. “Priority alert. Char-lie, this one is detecting increased cardiac activity. Char-lie, please describe your status immediately,” the hollow voice echoed.

    His breathing labored and his mouth dry, Charlie floated before the window and stared out into the blackness. His heart thumped against the walls of his chest while he watched the pillars of red and orange erupt from the masses of green, brown, blue and yellow to create a terrifying rainbow of destruction.

    “Char-lie, please respond. You have twenty seconds or this one will be forced to deploy a stabilizing unit to your position. Your response is vital to mission success. Please respond. Please respond. Please respond.”

    “I’m fine,” Charlie squeaked, fighting back the tears.

    “This one is observing a distraught emotional response. Char-lie, would you like this one to prepare a sugar-based consumable and initiate a humorous film to boost your endorphin levels?”


    “Char-lie, please clarify. This one’s data indicates that you always respond positively to Mon-ty Py-thon and the Ho-ly Grail. Please clarify. Your happiness is essential to the success of the mission.”

    “Doesn’t matter, I’m the only one left.”

    183 words

  17. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thank you to everyone who wrote and I hope to see you next week. :)


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