#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 543 : Thank You For Volunteering.

“Thank you for volunteering,” I stared at the bottle of Aripiporazole. “They should print that on the bottle. ‘Cause you don’t have any clue how this stuff is going to work for you. And neither do they.”

I yawned, and stared at the bottle. “5 mg per pill.” I shook my head. “I can barely pick the pills up with my big damn fingers, they’re that tiny.”

It was hard to believe that little bit of anything could result in so much chaos in me, yet there I was, sleeping 12 hours or more every day. Unable to focus on anything. Wondering if I could stand up long enough to do the dishes, or if I needed to break the dishes into multiple sessions of say, 5 minutes each.

Another yawn struck. “If I sit here another minute I’ll be in naps-ville.” I got up, and walked around the house, stopping at the top of the stairs. “Can I make it down the stairs alive?” It wasn’t a question of did I have the physical strength, it was did I have the balance to get down without tripping and killing myself.

I stepped back from the stairs, and walked up and down the hallway for a bit. I sat in the gravity chair, but got back up after a minute. I wound up back at my computer, looking at that bottle of pills.

“Not taking my dose tonight. Nope. Not doing it. Ask someone else to volunteer.”

248 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 543 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 542 : It’s Not That Simple.

“Nope. It’s not that simple,” I thought. “Can’t be that simple.”

Yet there it was. Written in words by my own hand. “What if the Big Bang was actually the Big Rip?”

I stared at the words. “The Big Rip?”

How would we know? How could we know? We would be living inside the rip, inside the biggest phase change in the history of everything.

“For that matter, what if this isn’t the first Big Rip?” That thought left me sitting at my desk, staring out the window, and wondering if I suddenly had an explanation for dark matter, and dark energy, and what was beyond the edge of the universe. Because, suddenly, dark matter might turn into matter and mass, that didn’t change in the phase change. It would lie outside of our laws of physics. We couldn’t see it, or detect it. But it would still be there.

Dark energy would be the expansion of the original space that was being overwritten in the big rip. Space that could well have been expanding at an accelerating rate as an open universe. One that expanded forever. One where a big rip became inevitable in theory.

And the reason galaxies had appeared out of nowhere, fully formed was because they were already there, and the phase change made them visible.

I shook my head. “Nope. No way. It’s not that simple.”

231 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 542 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 541 : I’m Not Afraid Of Him.

On the first day of December, the first day of the month with Christmas in it, Mom put that stupid elf on the mantle over the fireplace and declared, “He’s watching you.”

It was like she wanted me to be scared into behaving for that elf. But, you see, I do all my homework. I do all my chores around the house. I make my bed every morning. I get a shower every night. I always put my dirty clothes in the laundry. I always clean my plate, even when Mom fixes food I don’t like. Even if she fixes liver.

Because. I know the truth. I know Santa watches us all year long. Not just in December. And because. I know the truth even more. I talked to Jesus, you know. I did. And he told me Mom and Dad want me to be a good boy for them. That they worry about me. That they wonder if they are good parents. And he told me if I did my homework, and all my chores, it would show them they were.

So that’s what I do.

And because I know the truth, I’m not afraid of that elf on the mantle of the fireplace. Let him watch all he wants. He’ll learn what I already know. I’m a good boy. Because. It makes Mom and Dad think they’re good parents It makes them happy. And happy parents matter. So, I make them happy.

I’m not afraid of him.

249 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 541 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the stories in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. This week especially, since they’re all about a happy holiday season. And there are some great writers who show up every week.

#ThursThreads Week 540 : I’m On My Way.

My iPad had chimed, telling me I had a message. Very few people knew how to reach me on my iPad, and I talked with those few people frequently. I grabbed the iPad, and checked. It was a message from my cousin.

“He didn’t make it this time.”

He was an older cousin. One I had not even seen in 45 years. One I’d recently started to call on the phone. Not so much to renew the contact as to do what I could to help him through his own grief. His wife had died a couple of months earlier. The only person he had left was his daughter.

I sent a message back, “Sorry to hear that. But we knew it was coming.”

My cousin responded, “Yes, we did.”

There was a pause. Then she continued, “You said if I needed your help, to just ask. Well. They’re making plans for the funeral. And for his house. I’ll have to help with that.”

What else was there to say? “I’m on my way.”

I’d talked with my wife, made a hotel reservation in Atlanta, packed my one suitcase, got in my car, and started south. It was a 1600 mile drive. I couldn’t do that in one day. I couldn’t afford a plane ticket either. No planes flew to the middle of nowhere in Mississippi anyway, and I’d have needed a rental car.

I had to drive down.

“I’m on my way.” What else could I have said?

249 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 540 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 539 : I Made It Easier For You

After I had fixed the blue screen of death on her computer, I told her, “Hand me your smartphone.”

It was an iPhone. I brought up the Messages application, and tapped away at the touch screen. When I was done, I handed the phone back to her, “There. I made it easier for you to call me when you need me.”

“What even is Messages?”

“Don’t even ask. Just click on Messages, and in Messages, click on “Blink, and type out what you want to say, and hit the blue arrow to send the message to me.

“You aren’t named Blink.”

Sometimes, I wondered why she said such things. “Just use Blink when you have problems with the computer. OK?”

“OK.”

I got up, and started to leave her desk.

“Thank you, Blink.”

“You’re welcome.”

Well, she was welcome. She was the kindest person in the building. She took all the computer training courses, and asked questions all the time. I’d sent pages and pages of instructions for how to do things in Word, and Excel to her.

She’d even asked how to back up her work so she didn’t lose it.

Beside that, she had the deepest blue eyes I’d ever seen. The kind that made you want to get lost in them forever.

I wasn’t supposed to give her a direct link to reach me, but I had, and I had to wonder why.

“Your mind’s wandering,” I mumbled, as I walked. “Get back to work.”

248 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 539 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 538 : All Of It Was Gone

I looked at the curb where the two twin sized mattresses and the twin sized box spring had been. All of it was gone.

“Yes!”

It wasn’t a surprise, really. After all, I’d called the city, and scheduled the pickup, following the instructions on the city’s information site. Schedule the pickup. If the pickup is approved, have everything at the curb, a safe distance from everything else at the curb, and the city picks it up, and hauls it away.

I’d have hauled it away myself, but I don’t own a truck. I had nothing I could haul it in.

The box spring, and the two mattresses were from the room the eldest grew up in. When the eldest moved out, we’d shut that door, and never gone back in that room. I don’t think I’d set foot in that room once in 10 years.

Until she told me to clean it. “They don’t live here, it’s time to clean that room, and set up my art supplies.”

Now, those two mattresses and that one box spring were gone. Now, there was space in that room. Now, I could work on finishing that room. Now, I’d admitted the oldest was gone. Independent. Sure, my memories of them would still be there, inside of me. But, the house was one step closer to being hers and mine.

That felt good.

229 Words
@mysoulstears


This is Week 538 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.