#ThursThreads A Deal’s A Deal

The cornflower-blue dress hung from wide straps over pink, freckled shoulders. Its square collar line edged higher on the back than the front displaying the soft valley of her cleavage. While the faded fabric pretended to the flow elegantly down her body, drying mud and wheat spores kept it humble. A soft breeze fluttered the hem bisecting scabbed knees.

Her thick, dark hair had been wrapped hastily at the back of her head, held in place with a twig she’d picked from the ground before entering the field. Closing her emerald eyes, she stopped her trek into the field, and bowed her head. She hated being here, and what she had to do, but a deal’s a deal.

Around her, amber stalks bent away from her in a perfect circle as though a microburst broke from above, crashing to the ground, and sending its tendrils to lay everything but her flat. She tilted her head back, bringing her sorrowful gaze to the sky. The tears she cried found their way to her hair, turning the dust to mud. The despair flowing from her wasn’t only for what lay in the future, but also for the loaves of the bread lost from this spoiled harvest.

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#ThursThreads – The Challenge That Ties Tales Together – Week 121

She could not quell the feeling of being watched and opened her eyes. Despite her efforts to be of the shadows, someone always seemed to pierce the veil of her privacy. They never realized the consequences of their actions until it was too late. The intruder stared into her eyes without seeing her—he only saw the layered shadows of the trees.
“Ma’am?” the intruder’s voice quavered. “I have a message.”
A message, she thought. No one ever sends me a message.
She flicked a hand, causing the shadows to swirl. The intruder took a step backward seeing her outline in the shadows.
“Oh, ha ha. Finding you was easier than expected. Thought I’d have to go further into the woods. Play a bit of hide and seek, know what I mean?”
“What is your message?” Her voice was strong and smooth—not what he expected after the tales he had heard. A tendril of shadow crept up his leg unnoticed.
“They wish a truce and request a meeting tonight.”
“Why now? What could they possibly want of me?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. That was all I was told. I should be heading back now. Have a nice night.”
“I will have a delightful night, thank you.”
He attempted to turn from her, but found his legs would not respond. He opened his mouth to speak, giving entry to a wisp of shadow. His eyes franticly searched for her. He only saw the shadows converge around him.

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#ThursThreads – The Challenge That Ties Tales Together – Week 114

The loose handcuffs teased him with freedom. Cole contorted his hand and slipped it through the metal loop, leaving it dangle from his other wrist. Blood trickled from a scrape—he watched it for a moment before standing. His new goal was clear; go get the man that locked him up.

Cole scrambled to the door and pulled it open. The sun burned his eyes, causing him to squint. Quickly, he surveyed his location.  Where, oh where are you hiding Mandrick? He thought. Movement in the trees across the clearing caught Cole’s attention. Mandrick stood defiantly with his arms crossed at his chest and stared with a taunting smirk.

“Really, dude?” Cole mumbled and ran toward his target.

He leapt and collided with the Mandrick. They wrestled on the ground, trying to dominate the other. The struggle continued for several minutes before Cole pulled away. There was no point in continuing, physically they were equals. The difference, between Cole and his twin, Mandrick, was the paths they chose.

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#ThursThreads – The Challenge That Ties Tales Together – Week 112

Each woke to a new day and started their routines.  At first, none noticed that the world they knew when they fell asleep the night before had changed. The feelings each experienced were similar when they discovered the people they knew and loved were no longer there—when they discovered the great responsibility bestowed on them.

He parked the car and walked the short distance to the coffee shop. The windows were dark. He looked at his watch, 6:00 AM. The sign on the door read, CLOSED. Strange, he thought and returned to his car. He would have to drink the bitter coffee at work. Abandoned cars randomly littered the streets as he made his way across town. The annoying security guard was not at the front desk to shriek, ‘Good Morning!’ when he entered. He began working, anticipating the normal flow of employees to start funneling into the building. 8:00 AM and he was still the only one there. He explored the building and found no one. In the break room, a TV, showing an anchor desk with empty chairs, caught his eye. He flipped through the channels and stopped at a news channel from India. A woman sat in a chair, crying. She looked up, as though she knew he watched her.

“There has to be someone else out there,” she said, tears streaking her face. “I am just like you, alone. Please contact me.” She held up a sheet of paper with different forms of contact.

144,000
 
 

#ThursThreads – The Challenge That Ties Tales Together – Week 111

Finally, he had made it to the Shaver Hotel—his corner room looked at the street and a small park. He let his cat out of her carrier and she sat on his lap while they waited for nightfall. Once sunset came, he pulled open the drapes allowing soft light to illuminate the room. His cat chattered at him and rubbed his leg. Across the street, a man watched with mischief. He turned from the window and noticed a row of light switches, each with a unique wall plate. Their temptation was irresistible.

 The first he flicked, added a wing to his room, which disappeared when he turned it off. Another caused a silver light to ignite the trees in the park for the second that it was on. The next he did not bother turning off because, like the others, he did not see any effects. The two buttons of the following switch had mother-of-pearl inlays. He reached out to push the top button.

“You sure this is the one?” a playful voice said from the floor. He glanced down at his cat sitting at his feet. “You don’t know what they do,” she continued. “You’ve already summonsed the man from outside to kill you.”

The floorboards outside his room creaked and groaned. The doorknob rattled. He pushed the button, engulfing the room in white light.

“Now you’ve gone and killed us both,” the cat complained. “If you would’ve just turned the last one off, everything would be fine.”

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#ThursThreads – Month of Love Sci-Fi Theme – Week 110

The moonlight trickled into the room with a slight breeze that made the sheer drapes dance on the polished wooden floor. The white satin sheet, covering her soft curves, shimmered in the moonlight with her breaths.

The sharp sound of the floorboards protesting woke her. She sat up and the sheet slid into her lap, revealing her full breasts. Her eyes widened, scouring the shadows for the source of the disturbance to her dreams. She stood, pulled her thin robe from the foot of the bed and glided to the open window as she put on the robe.

“The sound,” she thought. “It must have been an animal outside.”

She stood in the mystical light for a moment, then turned back to the bed. She froze. He stood between her and the bed, shirt open, revealing his masculine form. He reached his hands to her.

“It is time. Come with me.” he said; his smooth voice caressed her ears and she put her hands out to take his.

Just before she put herself into his warm embrace, she stopped.

“Why should I?” she asked and dropped her hands away from his, then took a step backwards.

“It is time. It is what you desired.”

The reassurance and confidence of his voice, made her want to run into his arms and take his embrace. She wanted to know the heat of his breath on her neck, the strength of his hands holding her, but she did not move from the spot.

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#ThursThreads – The Challenge That Ties Tales Together – Week 100

He strolled through the town. It looked like all the others he had seen on his journeys down the coastline. The only difference was the season. He breathed in the cooling air and in his mind he saw the frost glittering on the leaves remaining in the trees outside the window. She gripped his hand. The mound of her belly heaved as their son fought to be out of her womb and into the world. It was his second happiest memory.

Jerome screamed into the world. He was healthy. The nursemaid wiped the fluids from him and handed him to Reynard, who hesitantly took him into his arms. With a great smile he looked down at his beloved wife, Fine. Her skin glistened with sweat. She smiled back. He brought Jerome into her arms and kissed her forehead.

“I can’t go with you,” she whispered.

“What?”

“You’re going on an adventure. I have the baby now.”

“I don’t understand. This…you son of a bitch, get out of my head. Quit playing with me.”

“Oh how sweet, your lovely baby boy is born and now is dead. The darling memories you have of your family.”

“Leave them alone.”

“I did, don’t you remember? Now let’s feed.”

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