Sunshine Threads Novels & Stories

Feeling the shift in the air, Zoe quietly slipped away. The word "ex-husband" hit Nathan like a sudden blow. His hopeful demeanor crumbled, giving way to crushing despair. Even his posture sagged ever so slightly. At the cafe just outside the office, the beautiful roses he carried caught everyone's attention. Unfortunately, he'd overlooked something important—I was extremely sensitive to both scents and pollen.

SHAWN One minute I’m sitting on my bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, staring at nothing in particular and the next, I’m waking up to sunlight cutting through the curtains and a dull heaviness sitting behind my eyes. For a second, everything feels normal. Then it comes back.The pack. The bond. Kane. I exhale slowly, dragging a hand over my face before reaching for my phone on the nightstand. A notification blinks on the screen. Mike. " I know you left.Just… whatever you decide, I'm on your side."

When I passed by the greenery, a branch suddenly snagged my hair. I tugged slightly, but instead of freeing it, I pulled down a whole spray of petals. A hand suddenly reached out and gently helped untangle my hair. "What the—" I winced inwardly, blaming the overly lush landscaping in these rich neighborhoods. How were there already flowers blooming at this time of the year? "Are these peach blossoms?" I muttered exasperatedly. A calm voice came from above, "They're cherry blossoms."

To him, time was like an interloping of threads, all related to each other and the ultimate space, and in rare, yet possible cases, it was possible to bend those threads. Threads...threads of time...it rang a bell, but I wasn't sure where I had heard it from. I closed the book and fell on the chair. Time travel? Me? For what? So I can re-live some of the worst years of my life? I held my hair in handfuls and yelled, hoping that if I yelled hard enough, some miracle will take place and take me back to the time I belong. I have already lived past this. This is not my life any more.

Emma was there and helping out Shae with the orders some more, and I wondered what happened to the thread. “Where’s all the thread?” She didn’t even look up at me when she answered, “In your office.” I went into my office and turned on the lights to find roughly fifty spools of thread neatly placed from light to dark on my desk in the shape of a square. How the fuck did she get this done so fast? I looked back at her in question and she still wasn’t looking at me, but she obviously knew my question. She reached her hand on her desk and grabbed a pair of scissors, then without looking at me, still, she opened and closed them a couple of times dramatically.

I took the blackness and I wove it into the silver, creating a new pattern, a pattern that included the shadow. ​The spindle began to hum a new song. The vibration was so powerful that I felt my physical body begin to disintegrate, my atoms joining the dance of the Loom. I was no longer Winnie. I was the Sun Weaver, and the Needle, and the Thread. I was the sunrise over the Obsidian Mountain and the silence of the deep veins. I was everything, and I was nothing.