#ThursThreads Week 547 : What Are We Going To Do About That?

Sunshine watched the waves until the sun fell below the horizon, and the white caps became all that was visible on an endless sheet of black. Finally, she walked back to shore from the end of the pier.

She walked the empty streets of the town, past the collection of shops at the end of the pier, to the houses along the ocean shore. She stopped before one of the houses. It was different from most, its exterior walls were pale blue. She decided to look inside.

“Dear Fauna. I wish you could see this house with me.” She opened the front door, and stepped inside, onto a carpeted floor, into a climate controlled environment. The lights came on inside the house as she walked from room to room, exploring it. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, one kitchen, one common room.

In the bathroom, there was a walk-in shower. Sunshine had never seen one, and wondered what it was. Approaching it, she opened its sliding door, then cautiously stuck her arm inside. Nothing happened, so she stepped inside.

The shower turned on, and warm water sprayed her down, clothes and all.

Sunshine was surprised, then confused, then angry because her clothes were soaked, then she thought, “I haven’t been clean in ages.” The water was warm, and felt good. “What are we going to do about that?”

She washed her clothing, and herself. It was the first time since Fauna had died that Sunshine felt anything other than dead inside.

249 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 547 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read, and there are some great writers who show up every week.

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#ThursThreads Week 546 : I’ll Think Of Something Else.

Sunshine looked toward the ocean. There was a long pier that extended from the shore. She headed toward that. It turned out to be a fishing pier, made of wood that sat atop concrete pilings. It was designed to last centuries. As she walked on it, her footsteps made no sound. The structure was solid.

“Tell me about this pier,” she waved her arm at the pier, and waited for the machines to explain.

“It was the town park. People came here to fish, and to watch the ocean, the sunrise, and sunset. People even got married on the pier.”

“Did anyone ever jump off the pier?”

“No. You will be the first, if you follow through with your plan.”

“You figured that out already?”

“You know we won’t let you drown.”

“Then I suppose I’ll think of something else.”

“You need to stay alive.”

She wanted to scream. To stomp her feet. To cry. To explain to the machines they didn’t understand. That her entire world, everything she’d ever believed, had been destroyed before her eyes. That her sister, Fauna, was gone. That she felt no sunshine in her heart. All she felt was empty. Hollow. Like everything was pointless. Like nothing mattered.

“Why? Why do I need to stay alive?”

“Because. So long as the sun rises, so long as the cycle does not end, there is a chance your people will survive.”

Sunshine stood at the end of the pier, and watched the ocean waves.

248 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 546 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read, and there are some great writers who show up every week.

#ThursThreads Week 545 : This Had To Look Real

Sunshine had lost all track of time. It was as if time no longer mattered to her. The ubiquitous machines of Cylinders, and the war with invaders from another world, had turned her life upside down, and demonstrated everything she had always believed was a lie.

She had refused to fly. She’d landed, and declared she would walk. “I will not use the machines to fly.”

That had been days ago. Maybe weeks ago.

“I will walk until I die.” That was her original thought. But, Sunshine didn’t die. She didn’t drink water. She didn’t eat food. She walked each day, endlessly, day after day, from sunrise to sunset. She slept on the ground, with no regard for safety. “Let them eat me. I no longer care.”

The machines kept her alive.

As she walked, along the shore of Cylinder’s one giant ocean, she listened to the endless waves, and wished to die. “Everything is a lie.”

Until she saw the remains of a town beside the ocean. What has once been a few houses. Maybe more.

The machines reconstructed the town as she approached it. Houses grew from the few remains. Others sprang from the ground. They weren’t houses she had ever seen. They had glass windows, running water, heating and cooling.

She stopped.

The machines told her, “This was a port. 30,000 of your years ago.”

“This had to look real, didn’t it.” She spoke to the air.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“With time, we will teach you why.”

250 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 545 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read, and there are some great writers who show up every week.

#ThursThreads Week 544 : Did You Miss Me?

Mystica stood on the shore of the lake, as if she knew what was going to happen. Perhaps the machines had told her. Perhaps Merlin had. No one really knew.

Musica, curious, stood next to her. “Are we waiting for something?”

“Someone.”

“We are waiting for someone, then.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know who?”

“Yes.”

“But you aren’t telling anyone?”

“Yes.”

Rose floated in the air from her tree house to the lake, “Musica. You must play happy music.” She looked at Mystica, “Mother is happy, can’t you see?”

Musica played her flute. A happy song. One she’d never played. All random notes, like a child, exploring the world, and being so amazed at everything, even the clouds floating in the air, or the feel of the lake water on their toes.

Scream, the dragon, circled the lake clearing from high above. He waited. Rose laughed, happily, “She’s coming home, isn’t she?”

Mystica didn’t speak.

Until a lone fairy, with fiery red hair, floated over the tree line, and to the center of the lake, and asked, “Did you miss me?”

Mystica nodded. “Yes.”

Rose flew across the lake and embraced her sister, Sunshine. “Welcome home, sister. We’ve missed you.”

Sunshine moved to the shore of the lake, and landed next to Mystica. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, Mother.”

“You had to find yourself.”

Sunshine nodded. “I searched Cylinders. All of it.” She smiled at Mystica, then looked at the water of the lake. “I found my home.”

249 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 544 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read, and there are some great writers who show up every week.

#ThursThreads : Week 526 : You Know Why I’m Here

For seventeen nights, Sword waited on that beach. He spent his eighteenth day like the previous seventeen. He fished. He walked in a circle for hours. It was fascinating to him how deep of a trench he’d made in the sand, walking that circle for eighteen days. He tidied up his lean too. He watched the sea grass grow.

And he waited.

He would wait seventeen more if that’s how long Rose took to reach the ocean. Hunting small animals in that brush was no problem either. With his wild magic he’d been a master at spear fishing for several years, and at hunting, for several years. He had no problem obtaining food. He was beside the ocean, so had no problem staying clean.

That afternoon, he drew a rose in the sand. He’d drawn pictures of roses for the previous seventeen straight nights. Always, the wind, and the surf, took them away. But he liked to draw them. They reminded him of her.

That evening, as the sun drew near the horizon, he saw a crescent moon shaped boulder drifting through the brush, toward the ocean. He knew it was Rose.

Rose stopped her journey when she reached Sword.

He helped her down from her seat. “You know why I’m here, don’t you.”

Rose held his hand, “Of course. Thank you for waiting for me. I’m sorry I took so long to get here.”

“Don’t be sorry. I want to hear all the stories of your journey here.”

249 Words
@mysoulstears


It’s Week 526 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.

#SwiftFicFriday Week 127 : Sword Waited On The Beach.

Sword stood on the beach, and waited. He’d been there four days. Rose still had not arrived. “She’s slow. She has her own way of doing things. I need to respect that.”

He paced back and forth. He took 100 steps in a line, stopped, turned around, and took 100 steps back. He did this for hours on end.

He thought of heading to the forest to find Rose. To meet here in the forest, and finish the trip with her. “I have to trust her. She is fine. She is not in any danger. She’s just taking her time.”

Each morning, he dove into the ocean for a fish, a crab, a lobster, an eel, it didn’t really matter what. He captured it, took it to the beach, gutted it, skinned it, and otherwise prepared it for cooking. He cooked it on a fire, then ate it.

He spent the day gathering firewood. He tidied up his lean-to, even worked to make it sturdier. Anything to pass the time. Anything to keep his mind off of Rose, and how she hadn’t arrived yet.

Before sunset, he fished, cooked, and ate again.

And he waited.

At sunset, every day, a projection of Mystica showed up. It floated across the sand, and stopped in front of him. “Hi, Sword. I’m checking in again. Rose is fine. She’s on her way. But, she gets distracted, makes side trips, takes naps, plays with the animals.”

“When will she get here?”

“I have no idea.” Mystica always smiled. “But, we have to let her do this on her own. Like how Oceana allowed you to make the trip to see Rose on your own. She will get there when she gets there.”

Each night, he watched the stars until he fell asleep.

300 Words
@mysoulstears


It’s Week 127 of #SwiftFicFriday, hosted by Katheryn Avila. I’m still wondering what the heck is going on with this story. There seems to be only one way for me to find out. Anyway. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #SwiftFicFriday. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up regularly.

#ThursThreads Week 518 : He Wants Something.

Oceana watched. On the 6th day of Rose’s journey from the lake to the ocean, Sword had left the kingdom. He’d gone to the surface, to the beach, where he remained. He waited there, day after day, for Rose to arrive.

He’d gathered several large pieces of driftwood, and beach grass, and made a lean-to. Carving the wood to size, and shape, then trimming and cutting the grass, was no problem for him. He’d used the gift the wild magic had given him, to carve everything as needed.

Oceana wasn’t worried about him. She knew he would defend himself with his wild magic swords, that they were part of his arms, and he used them naturally. “He will be fine. But he is young and impatient.”

The fairies in the castle asked where he was, why he had left. Ocean explained, “He wants something.” It was true. Sword did want something. He wanted Rose to arrive. He wanted to see her. Spend time with her.

“If ever there were two hearts meant to be together, it is those two.” Oceana knew. Rose and Sword had found each other, and nothing in life would ever keep them apart. She waved her hand, and the image of Sword, pacing nervously on the beach, faded. She closed her eyes, whispered, “Merlin,” and waited, as an image of Merlin, the dragon, formed in the air.

“Ah. Oceana. Want to know how Rose is doing, do you?”

“Please, Merlin. Is she safe?”

247 Words
@mysoulstears


It’s Week 518 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.

#ThursThreads Week 516 : She Can Hear Us

Rose did not follow the foxes, “Wow, are they shy!”

An owl circled her crescent moon boulder, then silently landed on its highest point. “Hello, wild magic fairy.”

“Hi. I’m Rose.” She waved at the owl.

“I don’t have a name.” The owl looked around, “None of us do. Names are used by humans, fairies, and dragons.”

“Would you like to sit next to me?” Rose patted the boulder next to her. The owl dropped to that spot.

One of the foxes peaked out of the trees. “Look to your left, Rose,” the owl directed. Rose looked, and spotted the fox.

The fox spoke again, “She can hear us.”

“I know,” said the owl. “She can.”

“Is she dangerous?”

The owl studied Rose a moment, then spoke to the fox, “She has the potential to be exceptionally dangerous. But she doesn’t want to be. She doesn’t want to harm us.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve watched her for hours tonight. She hasn’t harmed anything. All she does is watch.”

Rose nodded, “Please come out and talk with me. I would love to meet you.”

The fox inched into the open. Rose saw he was scared. “What flowers come out at night?” She whispered to the wild magic, “Moonflowers.”

Several small vines grew from the ground, and grew in the direction Rose was heading. Soon, they were full grown, and flowers erupted from them, lighting up the night with dozens of Moonflowers in neat rows. “Aren’t they pretty?”

247 Words
@mysoulstears


It’s Week 516 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.

#ThursThreads Week 515 : You’re Telling Me This Now?

“I’ve never been in the forest at night,” Rose sat on her crescent moon shaped boulder as it silently glided down the path the trees opened for it. “It will be fun to see what the night is like.”

She tried her best to be quiet, to not sing, to not talk to herself, or to the trees, or the stars, so she could hear the sounds of the forest. It was a stop and go journey. Every time she heard something, the boulder stopped moving, and Rose looked around, and tried to find what she’d heard.

There were lots of field mice roaming the floor of the forest, hidden under the brush. She saw an owl circling overhead, its eyes scanning the ground, looking for prey. She watched as it found a mouse, and dived, almost soundlessly, to capture it, then it flew off.

A couple of foxes came out of the woods, and looked at Rose and her boulder. They cautiously circled her, from a safe distance. Rose spoke to the wild magic, “Language,” and the magic responded and translated everything the foxes said to each other into words Rose could understand.

“What is that?”

“A fairy. A young one at that.”

“Don’t they sleep at night? In houses?”

“Yes. This is strange.” The fox on the left stood on its hind legs and twitched its ears. “Wild magic! She can hear us!”

The other fox screamed, “You’re telling me this now?” and raced back into the forest.

250 Words
@mysoulstears


It’s Week 514 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.

#SwiftFicFriday Week 124 : Uncanny

That night, when Rose woke, and continued her journey to the ocean in the night, to learn what the night was like, Merlin watched. He stayed in the darkness, between the trees, along the ground. His midnight black color blended with the night, and the shadows, rendering him invisible. He used his wings, and the black magic, to never touch the ground, and thus never make a sound.

He had watched Rose’s entire journey, from the moment she left the lake to the start of her night time excursion. He didn’t watch to protect her from the forest, or the animals that lived in it. He knew she would be safe from those. It was uncanny how the forest, and the animals who called it home, reacted to Rose. How they behaved around her.

No, Merlin didn’t watch over Rose to protect her from the forest. He watched to protect Rose from people. Merlin knew people came in all types. From good, happy, friendly people, to violent, broken, brutal people, and everything in between. He knew, at 6 years old, Rose might not know what to do if she encountered people like those who had taken her to the Black mountains, and left her at the foot of a volcano to die.

It was what humans and fairies did to those with wild magic.

Because of how the humans could be, Merlin watched over Rose. He stayed hidden. He stayed invisible. Rose would never know he was there.

And in the event someone was foolish enough to try to hurt Rose, Merlin would set loose the fires of anger that burned in him, to protect Mystica’s adopted daughter.

He hoped he never had to act. He knew it was uncanny, how much violence he could yield.

298 Words
@mysoulstears


It’s Week 124 of #SwiftFicFriday, hosted by Katheryn Avila. I’m still wondering what the heck is going on with this story. There seems to be only one way for me to find out. Anyway. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #SwiftFicFriday. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up regularly.