Author: JoHawkTheWriter

Day of Blood

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Red clouds

Photo by Laura Vinck on Unsplash

Crimson robes fluttered, flowing behind Bellona like a boiling sea. The doors of the great hall slammed, and Lucina ran to keep up with her sister.

“What are we going to do?” Lucina asked.

Bellona didn’t respond. She wished she had worn her breastplate and whip to the audience. Still, her tongue had provided a brutal lashing.

“Did you have to provoke him?” Lucina panted, intercepting her sister on her march through the palace corridors.

“What?” Bellona’s voice echoed on the marble walls. She stopped before colliding with Lucina.

Lucina trembled as her sister’s proud anger pounded on her soul.

“Bellona, he means to kill you,” Lucina whispered. She clutched Bellona’s sleeve and saw the fire in her sister’s eyes ebb.

“Believe me, I know it. If he wants war, then he has pissed off the right girl.”

Bellona petted Lucina’s hand and attempted to smile. But the anger won.

“Genius thinks he is a special god, but he is a snake. I will chop off his head and condemn his writhing body to the eternal flames of hell.”

Lucina flinched and clenched Bellona’s sleeve wadding into a crumpled ball.

“I will not allow him to continue his assertion that genius is only within the domain of men. Tradition dictates we bestow genius on every human being.”

“What will you do?”

“We are going to the Field of Mars. There we will assemble the Bellonarii and send a messenger to mother. I swear. He will have his day of blood.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

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“Probably the reason we all go so haywire at Christmas time with the endless unrestrained and often silly buying of gifts is that we don’t quite know how to put our love into words.” – Harlan Miller

Now I get it. Thank you, Harlan. In a world where we buy, buy, buy we writers are truly needed. I think we have somehow lost the ability to express the love we feel for our friends and family.

Perhaps we need to challenge ourselves to spend more time putting our love into words instead of dollars into silly gifts. But that takes time and thought and digging deep into our souls. That is the gift that is most dear, the one that money can’t buy. It is the gift of sharing our true self.

What one true gift can you give this year?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

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I-like-to-compare-the-holiday-season-with-the-way-a-child-listens-to-a-favorite-story.-The-pleasure-is-in-the-familiar-way-the-story-begins-the-anticipation-of-familiar-turns-it-takes-

The holiday season is full of anticipation. We look forward to gatherings of friends and family, hope for magical Christmas Eve snow, and play games trying to guess which present is ours.  Each day the suspense builds. The plot is simple and familiar. The characters wheel in and out of view, dancing in a kaleidoscope of color. The message remains the same. We hope for brighter times in the coming year.

It is a familiar story and one I await each year. We remember those who have passed and those who have not yet appeared. Each year is uniquely different and yet it somehow holds to tradition.

What is your favorite Christmas story?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

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Nothing-I-had-written-before-Mary-Poppins-had-anything-to-do-with-children-and-I-have-always-assumed-when-I-thought-about-it-at-all-that-she-had-come-out-of-the-same-wall-of-nothing

“Mary Poppins Returns” is being released in theaters today. To be honest, I didn’t care for the original “Mary Poppins” movie, you know the one with Julie Andrews? So, I am wondering if it I will like this new one. The books, however, I find enjoyable. P. L. Travers published a series of eight Mary Poppins books between 1934 to 1988. Fifty-four years is a long time to wait for a series.

Anyway, it occurred to me that most movies pale compared to the magic the author creates in a book. How many times have I heard the comment, “I saw the movie, but the book was better”? It is one more reason to read books and let your imagination soar with the words, let the author tell a story that transports you to another world.

What book do you wish had never been made into a movie?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Until Death — Flash Fiction Challenge

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Title: Until Death
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about Cora Kingston.
Word count:  99 words

Weeping-Angel-statue-grave

Photo credit: Canon Fodder on Foter.com / CC BY-SA

Cora read Papa’s letter again, hoping the words would change, knowing they would not. Her beloved John had succumbed. Typhoid. She pressed the letter to her heart and closed her eyes, remembering the last time they had been together, the day they said goodbye.

She was excited. Papa arranged for her to accompany cousin Olivia on her Grand Tour. They would be gone a year and when she returned, she and John would marry.

The thought grabbed her heart, squeezing, constricting, making her wish for death.

She sat, immobile, cold, her life disintegrating. Papa’s letter fluttered to the floor.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Write

Daily Quote

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Seeing-that-we-were-book-enthusiasts-my-mother-began-hauling-my-sister-and-me-down-to-the-Stanton-Free-Library-on-Tuesday-afternoons-where-Id-find-two-or-three-books-to-bring-home.

Two or three books? Is that all? I remember going to the library and checking out books when I was a kid. Once a week. The library limited the number of books you could check out at one time. I was always at the max. In fact, I remember sliding one or two books onto my brother’s stack so I would have enough to read for the week.

As I got older, I could get to the library on my own and the library’s book limit wasn’t as important. I churned through books. Times have changed, and there are responsibilities. Time available to read has diminished.  Still, when time allows…

How many books do you read?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

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You-did-not-disturb-Hemingway-before-noon-on-Monday-through-Friday-he-was-in-his-office-writing-the-books-that-made-the-lifestyle-possible.-Michael-Gerber

Well if it is good enough for Hemingway, who am I to argue? Pardon me while I go and lock myself in my… eh, I don’t have an office. The cat is laying on my keyboard, yawning. She doesn’t know Hemingway and unless it involves a can of tasty treats, she isn’t moving.

Hemingway must have drunk coffee. Right? I mean when he wasn’t, well, drunk? Where are my keys? No one will bother me at the coffee shop. If I purchase a cup, I can sit in the corner, staring at my screen and type away.

What does your “office” look like?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Diamond Dust — Thursday photo prompt

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Title: Diamond Dust
Source: Thursday photo prompt: Beneath #writephoto
Word count: 110 words

the image shows a gnarled, winter tree, and the sun glowing behind the hills, reflecting in the waters of a clear lake.

I dipped my toe into the icy cold water and felt the chill spread through my body. The weak warmth of the winter sun would soon slide below the horizon and allow me to advance my work.

Father Boreas raced ahead of me, preparing the way for my transformation. Reaching, slowly growing, my touch crept forward in geometric progressions. I inhaled gasping gusts of air, harvesting heat from every surface, and exchanged the gift with crystalline beauty.

The sky devoid of sun, the deep darkness of the void reflected blackness and despair. But hope ascended with Sister Selene’s silver chariot and she smiled at me through falling flakes of snow.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Art Depot — 3 Line Tales

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From Sonya’s 3LineTales at Only100Words.
You can find the original prompt here. Thank you, Sonya.

photo by Jan Genge via Unsplash

Otto knew he would never understand the newfangled galleries.

Corrugated metal, curved plastic baffled walls he thought looked more like grain silos than repositories for great art.

He visited intending to condemn, to demand a proper exhibition space, but his opinion changed when he walked in the door.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

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I-wake-up-fairly-early-every-day-by-8-for-sure.-Sunday-is-a-lighter-writing-day-than-the-weekdays-but-I-still-wake-up-and-write-for-about-an-hour-beginning-right-around-8.-I-definite

Sleeping until eight I considered as sleeping late. She has the coffee part right. There is nothing better than and a hot cup of coffee on a quiet Sunday morning and the soft clack of keys as I write my next little story.

Do you write on Sunday, or is it your day to unwind?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer