Reading the Signs – #MenageMonday

October 8, 2019October 7, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 5 Comments

The message floated as Gawayne read then turned towards Loreena.

“What does it mean?”

Loreena stepped closer, standing next to him, she contemplated the words, a thoughtful expression creased her brow.

“Who are these Knights of Cydonia?”

“Ancient stories tell of a warrior goddess whose sworn duty was to protect her king. She commanded soldiers, knights, into battle under her name Athena Promachos.”

“This part mentions a Muse. What do you make of that?”

“The tales also point to her as a patron of the Arts.”

“That’s odd. Still, they appear to be in danger. They ask for my assistance.”

“So, it would seem.”

“Get me there, but don’t forget the tether line like you did last time.”

Loreena nodded and began chanting the words that would send him to Oracle Arena.

Gawayne felt himself being transported. Passing a door marked ‘Backstage’, he entered the interior of a building larger than anything he had imagined. On a large raised area, dwarfed by its surroundings three men with strange interments milled around.

“What is this place?”

“Cool get up,” one of the men said as he reached to touch Gawyne’s armored shoulder. Recoiling, Gawayne sidestepped his inquisitive fingers.

“Easy,” he said, withdrawing his hand.

“I received a summons. I seek an audience with the Knights of Cydonia.”

“Dude, we’re not Knights. It’s the name of our song. You ready to make a video?”

“What is required?”

“It’s not difficult. Just fake it.”

Gawayne considered the man’s words then drew his sword.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Groundswell – FFfPP

October 6, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Groundswell
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #40
Word count: 175 words

https://morguefile.com/creative/GaborfromHungary/1/all 4c4928a285b4288e16e0ca39cda46911

The plane’s shell curved, brushing the top of my head. I sank lower in my seat as the big man on the aisle shuffled, adjusted his jacket and rolled the magazine page back on itself. Feeling claustrophobic, I scrunched down, huddling close to the wall and stared out the window.

Green patchwork fields below me stretched as far as my eyes could see. Flyover country. The place where the ninety-nine percenters lived, worked and created a base for the one-percenters to ignore unless they needed something.

Me and my kind had grown tired of their extremes, the push and pull and the manufactured drama. It was hard to find a point, any entertainment value had long since faded, lost in mind-numbing predictability. They forgot their roots, allowing their contradictory talking heads to float in clouds. They forgot it had happened before, and their folly condemned them to the future my people remembered well.

The rise of the Third Estate lay on the horizon. They wanted a fight, and we planned to give them a show.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Copper Wood Estates – Thursday Photo Prompt

October 5, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 22 Comments

Title: Copper Wood Estates
Source: Thursday photo prompt: Copper #writephoto
Word count: 290 words

The image shows a deserted path through the woods, carpeted with the fallen leaves of autumn.

Where I walked wasn’t unexplored ground. There was a paved path, and it didn’t materialize from thin air. I knew better.

Somewhere a committee passed a motion, they conducted an environmental impact study, employed an engineer, and a landscaper who proposed ideas, and they submitted drawings for final approval. Weeks, months or years ensued before work began. The surveying team finally appeared to translate the approved plans into the landscape. Bulldozers and excavators arrived to ensure accessibility while maintaining a natural feel.

As I wandered, I listened to the bird’s chirping and a squirrel’s chatter. I alone, tread this forgotten byway. Autumn leaves fell, obscuring the route. In places, soil washed over the pavement and elsewhere tree roots buckled and cracked the tarmac. Three leaf sets of poison ivy turned yellow-gold and burgundy. The toxic plant, seeking sun, thrived in sunlit patches. I kept my distance, not wanting to itch and scratch and cover myself in soothing lotion.

It would have been an idyllic walk, if not for the constant buzz of traffic. The nearby busy street hummed, and tires clacked when they hit the road’s expansion cracks. Through the thinning foliage, bright flashes of speeding cars seeped into this simple setting. Still, it was more than this city-bound country girl could have hoped to find so close to her new home.

I missed the real outdoors, the silence and true solitude I had taken for granted in my youth. This slice of cultured homage was the best I could expect, but I yearned for more. Life never worked that way. I visited often through the seasons until the day the dozers returned. The easement lost, a wider road had won, and I longed for the trail I once endured.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Winter Storm – Weekend Writing Prompt

October 5, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 23 Comments

Title: Winter Storm
Source: Weekend Writing Prompt #126 – Haven
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 32 words

Photo by James Peacock on Unsplash

The day grew wild, and the sea pummeled the rocky coast. On the misty horizon, a ship floundered, seeking safe harbor. The keeper scurried, storm-driven to his haven and the sailor’s salvation.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Stranger Within – 100 Word Wednesday Week

October 4, 2019October 4, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 17 Comments

Title: The Stranger Within
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 140
Word count: 100 words
img_0253-1

Image by Bikurgurl

Tilly stood at the pool’s edge, acutely aware that she didn’t belong there. The rippling water displayed a distorted image of a familiar stranger in a wedding gown. She searched the flowing reflection, ever-changing it offered multiple perspectives.

Beyond the pool deck, they had erected a white tent where everyone waited. Suspended, her future felt eager for her arrival. But she lingered here, contemplating the divergence, she felt the despair heavy in her heart.

The blacktopped parking lot lay behind her, a seductive alternative offering her another way.

Black and white had never been so grey. Breathing deeply, she jumped.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Masking Reality – Thursday Threads

October 4, 2019October 3, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 6 Comments

filled white disposable cup on table

Photo by Fengyou Wan on Unsplash

Concentrate on the happy things they said.

But I don’t have happy things.

Nothing major. Something small that makes you smile. They bored me.

Jeremy was much more pragmatic. He was still a pain in my ass, and entirely too optimistic, for his own good. But there were the occasions when he was tired, or distracted, and I caught an edge of cynicism in his tone. I could work on him.

In the cafeteria, they served a strong, black, bitter coffee in thin, brown paper cups. Most drowned it with packets of sweetener and milk, disguising its true nature. That was the problem, we are all hiding the truth. I sipped, repressing my grimace.

I didn’t have to wait long, Jeremy, with his armload of green files and sporting his usual white coat soon joined me at my table.

“How are we this morning?”

“We are happy.”

“Is that so?” Jeremy lifted an eyebrow, “And why is that?”

I raised the flimsy coffee cup, my silent toast to my worthy adversary. I took a sip.

“I see,” he said, retrieving a cheap, disposable ballpoint from his jacket pocket. “And the new medication?”

I shrugged.

He flipped open my chart and began taking notes. I waited. When he looked at me, I regaled him with the fruit of my practice and smiled.

“How is it we are so happy today?”

“It’s easy. I block out the screams.”

Jeremy patted my hand.

“Sounds like we are making progress.”

Jeremy had no idea.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Choosing Action – 3 Line Tales

October 3, 2019October 3, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 3 Comments

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

three line tales, week 192: a rainbow over a plaza Photo by Sara Riaño via Unsplash

Rosie heard the sayings, listened to the famous, sappy song, and she believed the pot of gold existed at the rainbow’s end.

It wasn’t a secret, no one contested the facts, but when a rainbow appeared, they stood motionless, staring, stuck with wonder, afraid to act.

The minute the colors splashed across the sky, Rosie chose an end and ran headlong towards her goal.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Hollow Victory – Friday Fictioneers

October 3, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 29 Comments

Title: Hollow Victory
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Ginny balanced the Louisville Slugger against her leg and sighed, realizing she had earned her fifteen minutes of fame. Her friends would slap her back. They would call her the bomb.

She had grown tired of hanging her head, ducking questions and running scared. The trash talk time had ended, and the time for action had arrived. She stepped up to the plate, dug in, and swung for the fences.

The police, so slow to protect her, were quick to arrest her, but her file proved it was self-defense. No matter what they said, it didn’t feel like a victory.

________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

An Event – FFfPP

October 1, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 3 Comments

Title: An Event
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #39
Word count: 200 words

https://morguefile.com/creative/GaborfromHungary/41/all _DSC9724

Rachel checked the time. She was sure their text had said eleven, but the sidewalk café was deserted. Her compulsion ensured she was always early. But she expected someone would be here, setting up maybe? There were no life signs.

She sighed, digging her phone from her purse, and squinted at the screen. It was blank. She glanced around the empty street and looked skyward. She shifted, positioning her body to shield the sun’s glare. No bars. No connections, and when she tried to access her texts, nothing displayed.

Her gut twisted, but she pushed it aside, refusing to acknowledge it. She sat in a chair, resigned to waiting. They would arrive soon. The minutes ticked, the wind blew, and clouds scudded across the sky. Shivering, she waited for the shadow to pass.

“How are you alive?” A respirator’s hiss obscured a man’s voice. The black-uniformed figure emerged from the dark craft hovering behind him.

“I’m waiting for my friends,” Rachel’s heart pounded in her chest.

“They’re not coming.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Come with me.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“There’s been an event. No one survived.”

“But, I’m here.”

“That’s why you must come with me,” he said, extending his hand.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Devil’s Playground – #MenageMonday

October 1, 2019September 30, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 3 Comments

Source: Dreamstime

Friday night regulars, they met to drink, play cards and see how much of each other’s payday they could steal.

“Does it help?” Malachi asked flipping a card toward Tyrone.

Tyrone’s gnarled finger directed it to rest on top of his other cards. He sighed.

“Naw man. Ain’t nothing helpin my luck, tonight,” he pushed back his chair and took the last drag off his cigarette as it burned into the filter.

“Hey, you leavin?”

Tyrone stubbed out the butt and fished a handful of coins from his pocket.

“Reckon I gots me enough to git home.”

“Just me and you, Reggie,” Malachi said as he gathered the deck.

Smoke billowed around Reggie’s head, but he remained silent.

Tyrone and Willie watched the hand play out. Willie ordered another drink, and Tyrone sauntered to the wrought iron exit. Outside, the express pulled away. He considered making it stop. As he sat in darkness, it began to rain, and the gutter became a rushing river. Wind howled and lightening flashed in the sky.

“Brother looks like misery done shit on your parade.” A red Cadillac rolled up on the curb.

“Ain’t as bad as all that,” Tyrone said.

Reggie leaned across the Cadillac’s seat.

“Hey, O Mighty Prince of Darkness. H’bout you hop in and we’ll truck your ass home where it belongs? All Hell’s bustin lose, and your subjects be needin your dark hand.”

Tyrone puffed on another glowing cigarette.

“Like I was sayin, ain’t as bad as all that.”

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer