Old Ben was a smart fellow. A teacher told me I didn’t have enough life experience to write. Easy problem to fix. I lived. Now the time has come for me to write and I have so many stories to tell.
Do you fall into one camp more than the other?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Stanley Hall
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Strange things happened at Stanley Hall. Jessie had always heard stories of eerie noises, glowing lights, and disappearing people.
Today was her first time at the hall. She didn’t know why. The wind moaned in the trees and she thought she heard words. She walked closer, listening. Goosebumps raced across her skin. Without thinking, she leaned against the heavy oak door and entered.
Cobwebs and dust motes waved a silent greeting, inviting Jessie to explored. The building revealed more cobwebs and dust. Disappointed, Jessie returned to Stanley Hall’s one door, heaved it open and walked into a whole new world.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: The Protector
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count: 175 words
This week’s photo prompt is provided by wildverbs. Thank you Wildverbs!
Cornered, Lodovica ran into Piazza San Marco. The open Piazza and the full moon gave her nowhere to hide. Figures wearing plague masks surrounded her on three sides. She ran toward the Canale Grande. Her pursuers slowed, and she heard laughter. They had captured her.
Nearing the water, she noticed the center of the canal. Water churned and rose into the air forming a colossal wave topped by a giant winged lion. It rushed toward the Piazza, depositing the lion between Lodovica and the masked men. The lion lifted his massive front paw and gestured at them.
“Begone, you will remember nothing of tonight,” he said.
The men dissolved into the shadows. The lion folded his wings then turned to look at Lodovica.
“Who… who are you?” she asked. She stepped back as the lion raised his paw pointing to the granite column and the statue of the winged lion.
“The protector of Venice,” Lodovica said.
“This was not your day to die. The Saints call you for important work. Are you ready?”
Lodovica nodded.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
The Fountain of Youth, Time Travel, I am Master of the Universe. As I writer I can be anyone at any age and do anything. Ok, that sounds a little creepy, but I think you catch my drift.
How do you tap into your imagination to access the Fountain of Youth?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Source: Julie Duffy at Story-A-Day Challenged us to “Write an imaginary entry for a pretentious, high-end catalogue.” I love the J. Peterman catalogue and was a customer long before Elaine from Seinfeld had a job writing for them. I enjoy the stories and the clothes, so this was a no-brainer for me.
Photo by Pete Bellis on Unsplash
The yacht anchored in crystal blue water near St. Tropez and I ferried to Plage de Pampelonne.
Jacquelyn met the launch wading in, thigh deep, to greet me. The day was planned she said.
The rented cabana was in the center of it all, only steps away from the swanky restaurants which lined the beach. It was the best place to see and be seen she said.
Jacquelyn periodically waved to restaurant patrons, calling and promising to meet soon. We were going to dinner she said.
I would need to go to the yacht and change. Jacquelyn pulled the wrap dress from her dainty beach bag, slipped it on and tied it at the waist. Darling you must learn to be more spontaneous she said.
I agreed.
Plage de Pampelonne Wrap Dress (No. 1496). Low maintenance dress made from a silky jersey knit with a little spandex is ideal for travel. The flattering silhouette is packed with glamour, V-shaped crossover neckline, shaping princess lines and a flowing full sweep. Ties at waist. Lower calf length.
This dress belongs in your beach bag.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Life has presented me with challenges lately in finding time to write. I adapted. I have written in hospital rooms, doctor’s offices, cafeterias, odd offices, my car, and even a coffee shop. My hopes are of writing at my desk in the loft, but this experience has opened the possibilities.
Where does your writing routine take you?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Have you noticed those living a perfect life often fall victim to self-destruction? Deprived of daily struggle, denied the necessity of reaching for a goal, cheated of the battle to survive, the human spark dies.
Consider your favorite stories, are they filled with smiling, happy people? Or are they filled with strife, conflict and the unwavering desires of the underdog?
How do you write the perfectly imperfect?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
From Sonya’s 3LineTales at Only100Words.
You can find the original prompt here. Thank you, Sonya.
photo by Ernest Brillo via Unsplash
They jumped, hands held high, gyrating with uncensored abandon as the music thumped, a pounding heartbeat replacing their own.
Desperate to escape, willing sacrifices they rushed headlong into promised bliss.
A promise that was only another way to die.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Plot Line
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 91
Word count: 100 words
Image by Toa Heftiba
I was a regular at the coffee shop and selected my usual seat facing the window, the one that provided an unobstructed view of the street. This seat let me see who approached, who watched and who entered the shop. The window provided a bonus, reflecting the scene behind me. Here I had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view.
I slung my bag across the back of the chair. I didn’t need to order; the barista automatically delivered my steaming cappuccino. I dug my journal from the bag to review the details. Careful planning and consideration yielded perfection, and tomorrow he would die.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
I hope today you can take a moment and breathe. Clear your mind, unplug from distractions, hassles, noise and most importunately, silence the voice of doubt that rattles around in your mind.
Breathe deeply. See clearly. Hear nature. Feel your heartbeat.
Allow your ear to write. Let your ear read and guide your true voice.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Jo Hawk 