challenge

Escape — Friday Fictioneers August 17

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

Marty spent his nights singing in smoky bars. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills. After last night’s show, the band and some ladies continued the party at Ned’s place. Marty woke, head pounding and nauseous from the smell of alcohol, stale cigarettes and cheap perfume lingering in the room.

His mind shook free from his self-induced coma. He rode a merry-go-round, an endless circle of perpetual motion. He waited, hoping to feel real emotion, looking for proof of life. It wasn’t here. He knew what he must do. Marty grabbed his keys, walked out and closed the door.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Labor of Love – FFfPP Week 33

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Title:  Labor of Love
Source:  FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018 WEEK #33
Word count:   200 words

Daria Shevtsova pexels-photo-1070945

The first fingers of dawn hadn’t touched the black velvet curtain of darkness when Laroux flipped on the kitchen lights. Overhead, the fluorescents bounced off spotless stainless steel and bleached white tiles. Wednesdays were her favorite day of the week. She had three hours alone, to play in the kitchen.

Laroux tied her apron and gathered the ingredients, yeast, sugar, salt, oil, and flour. Yeast was a special ingredient, the origin of life. Baking took simple items and used chemistry, art, and kneading to form an aromatic loaf. She measured yeast into warm water, watching it bloom before stirring in the remaining ingredients. Laroux continued adding flour, forming a soft dough she turned onto the marble bench. She gathered the sponge, pushing bits together until it stuck in a lumpy ball. Now came the fun, the hard work.

The heel of her hand dug into the dough moving like an earth mover compacting dirt, stretching the dough on the marble, then folding it into a ball. Laroux repeated the actions, developing the gluten in the flour. Then, she and the dough rested. The dough doubled in size, ready for the oven. Laroux created bread with love to please the senses.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Subtle Shift — 100 WW Week 84

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Title:  Subtle Shift
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 84
Word count: 100 words

Image by Bikurgurl

It was hot. Summer held us in its sweaty grip, but there was something else, the heat was not as oppressive and sweltering, summer’s grip seemed less intense. A haze settled over the brilliant blue sky, cloaking the light, so subtle at first, we didn’t notice the change. The haze morphed into clouds, hinting at rain.

This morning in my new dorm room, I put sweaters, long-sleeved shirts, and wool socks in the back of closets and drawers before donning a tee-shirt and joining my friends for a campus tour and an iced coffee. The prediction for the future: change.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Cabin

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Photo credit: erik-edgren on VisualHunt.com / CC BY

It was three hundred miles and a five-hour trip if they didn’t stop.  Billy had been driving all night, and he was tired. He had worked a full day before heading home to pack, grab Atilla and meet Junior. Billy should not have been surprised when Junior said he hadn’t eaten all day. He said he was starving and needed to eat before they got on the road. Billy laughed since Junior never missed a meal. It was midnight before they were on their way out of town.

The sun was rising, and Billy yawned and rubbed his eyes. He turned onto the gravel road that led to the cabin. He rubbed his eyes again not sure if his eyes were blurry from lack of sleep or if it was mist floating over the half-melted snow and ice that coated the road.

His companions had been a little help with keeping him awake. Atilla curled in a ball in the back seat and fell asleep not long after they left. Junior rode shotgun his bulk smashed against the passenger door and window, the seatbelt cut across his chest and his mouth gaped open as he snored softly.

Billy nudged Junior in the ribs.

“Hey. Junior. Wake up.”

Junior smacked his lips and burrowed deeper into the corner.

“Junior wake up.”

“Wa?” Junior snorted, yawned and shifted in his seat. “Where are we?”

“Almost there.”

In the back seat, Atilla stretched and shook setting the tags on his collar jingling.

“Oh, good. It must be time for breakfast. I’m hungry.”

Atilla pushed his head into the front seat, sniffing at Junior and Billy.

“Junior, you’re always hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy. Gotta feed a growing boy.”

Atilla shoved his nose into Billy’s face and licked him.

Junior pet Atilla’s head. “Looks like Atilla’s hungry too.”

Billy stopped the truck in front of the cabin.

“Bring the bags in. There’s food in the cooler and the two boxes. It’ll be enough for the weekend.”

Billy opened his door and Atilla pushed and clawed his way over the top of Billy and shot out the door.

“Jez, Atilla. Can I get out of your way? You brute.”

“That dog thinks he’s a lot smaller than he is,” Junior laughed.

They both pulled bags from the bed of the truck and carried them into the cabin.

“What about the crates?” Junior asked.

“I’m exhausted. I need a few hours of sleep and no one’s gonna bother them. Atilla,” Billy’s voice dropped. “Atilla. Guard the truck.”

“So, you know where we’re gonna bury them?”

“Junior,” Billy scowled and walked toward the cabin.

“But, Billy…”

“Tonight, Junior. Besides, I thought you were hungry.”

Junior stared at the two crates in the truck bed and scratched his head. Atilla started back at Junior, twisting his head to one side and growled. Junior hesitated then followed Billy into the cabin.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Facing Fear — FFfAW Challenge

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 6 Comments

Title:  Facing Fear
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of 08-14 through 08-20-2018
Word count:   170 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Ted Strutz. Thank you, Ted!

What was she doing here?

Diana pulled her car into the parking lot and shifted into Park. A ferry approached the launch and cars waited to load. Diana’s hands trembled, and she breathed in ragged gasps.

Why had she agreed?

It was her therapist’s idea. She insisted Diana confront her fears and leftover emotions from the accident that were controlling her life. It sounded rational in the therapist’s office.

How was this going to help her?

They called it a freak accident. The water was choppy the day she drove onto the ferry. She was the first car in line. The ferry lurched and the truck behind her rear-ended her, hard, causing her car to catapult into the bay. She remembered trying to escape, water filling the car and the sky disappearing as she sunk under the waves. She didn’t remember being rescued.

When would she get past this?

She realized she didn’t need to relive boarding the ferry to face her fears. Diane turned the car and headed home.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Fade — 3 Line Tales, Week 132

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

photo by Khürt Williams via Unsplash

The day played on a continuous loop reserved for her mind only.

Brilliant flashbacks fluttered past reflecting ghosts from other days.

Grains of sand slipped through the hour glass stealing the memory frame by frame.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Drop — Friday Fictioneers August 10

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 14 Comments

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

His directions showed a booth in the empty section at the rear of the diner. The hostess motioned for him to sit and dropped the menu on the table. Bart sat his back to the brick wall and watched her disappear around the divider, leaving him alone.

He leaned forward and ran his hands underneath the tabletop and the bench where he sat. He checked his phone, determining he was in the correct spot

“Where is it,” he wondered?

A planter box sat on the divider and Bart’s hand snaked along the rim, searching. He removed the envelope and smiled.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Duplicity — FFfPP Week 32

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 2 Comments

Title:  Duplicity
Source:  FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018 WEEK #32
Word count:  184 words

MorgueFile May 2018 1400068700w0086

Lisette tried to look inconspicuous as she walked past the restaurant’s main window. The restaurant was empty, so she adjusted her sandal’s strap and scanned the interior. The main dining room held twelve linen-covered tables. She noticed everything, but she focused on the oil paintings. Eight hung in the room and she dismissed each one. It had to be here. She pretended to shuffle through her purse and saw it hanging behind the hostess stand. Lisette pulled her phone from her purse and walked away.

Jean-Pierre took over the family restaurant from his father, but times changed, the neighborhood changed, and the business suffered. His grown children had no interested in running the family business. It was time he retired, so he closed the doors. They had a party to say goodbye to the neighborhood and his loyal customers. The next morning Jean-Pierre dismantled his life. He removed the oil painting from the wall where it hung all these years. This one painting was his retirement fund.

Jean-Pierre took the painting to a dozen appraisers. They agreed his original Edward Hopper was a fake.

 

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Keeping Promises – 100 Word Wednesday Week 83

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Title:  Keeping Promises
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 83
Word count: 100 words

Image by Bikurgurl

Danny and Suzie had spent decades planning this trip. They were young when they married, and money was scarce. Danny promised he would one day take her on a dream honeymoon. Suzie dreamed of Hawaii.  Life always interceded, and they postponed their trip. Four babies came with bottles, bicycles, and braces. The years flew and there were college tuitions and wedding celebrations. They never stopped dreaming. They researched and planned but family was more important.  Today they would view the lava flow where it entered the ocean. Suzie hugged the urn in her arms. She didn’t want to say goodbye.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Pushing Through — FFfAW Challenge

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Title:  Pushing Through
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count:  150 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by wildverbs. Thank you wildverbs!

Rachel passed the bench three times today. One more time she told herself.

She wanted to sit and rest. Doctor’s orders said one mile.

“This is crap,” she thought.

“It will get easier,” they said.

“You will grow to love it,” they said.

“Your body will crave the endorphins,” they said.

Who were they kidding? It was a conspiracy, lies they told themselves. It wasn’t working, she didn’t feel an endorphin-releasing rush. She had been exercising a week and none of the garbage they spewed had happened.

Rachel stopped, staring at the bench. Sweat trickled down her back, hair clung to her face and neck. Her clothes stuck to her body in places where they shouldn’t. She fanned herself with both hands, knowing a mirror would reflect a blotchy red face.  She needed a shower.

Rachel stood and stared at the bench.

“Ok, bench. See you in a few minutes.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer