Observations from a Park Bench – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: Observations from a Park Bench
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about a park bench.
Word count:  99 words

shallow focus photo of toddler walking near river

Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

The clock in Trellech announced his daily passage. At seven-thirty he traveled into town, his feet dragging him forward, his pack dwarfing his tiny frame. Every afternoon at precisely two-thirty, lighter steps whisked him home.

Time slipped into years. As he grew into his backpack, it was replaced by a one larger and heavier than the last. His shoulders bent beneath the staggering weight, but he endured his regimen and never faltered.

His stamina increased, his burden kept pace, and I marveled at his quiet suffering.

One fateful day he stopped, dropped his albatross, and dared to fly free.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

If She Only Knew – 100-Word Writing Dare

Title: If She Only Knew
Source:  100-Word Writing Dare
Prompt: …if she only knew…
Word count:  100 words

scenery of ocean

Photo by Barth Bailey on Unsplash

I am repeatedly drawn to this bleak monument that commemorates my deepest regret and replays a scene I can never fix.

They say no one is to blame, tell me to live and learn.

Yet, I can still touch the whimpering monster, taste his evil spark and the heartfelt rage that extinguished my future. Hatred lived in those eyes, fueled by an all-consuming love.

Painful words thrown like brutal punches left me with smoldering embers of bittersweet anguish.

Selfishly, I demolished every bridge with my clumsy attempt to declare my desire. A single wish remains.

If she only knew.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Building on the Rock – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: Building on the Rock
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt # 141– Imperious
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 123 words

Photo by Ronan Furuta on Unsplash

Mael confronted the Rock, hands on his hips, legs rooted to the ground, his decision made. Here he would forge his fated destiny.

“This is where I build my castle.”

His men gasped. An incredulous murmur rose.  The volume ascended, scaling the sheer obsidian cliff face until it drowned the sound of the relentless, crashing surf.

“Surely, he jests.”

“He can’t be serious?”

“No one dares to build upon Devil’s Bite Mountain.”

Mael spun, his rippling black cloak snapping in the wind, and his troops stood, quivering in the silence. Mael’s gaze impaled the solider who had dared to utter his last fateful thought.

His defiant roar shook the dark heavens, and his imperious words left no questions. His will would be obeyed.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Total Disregard – Friday Fictioneers

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

Haagen-Dazs Ice Cream Cup

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

I woke disoriented.

Details flooded back. My body remembered searing agony.

“Remember to breathe.”

I peeked at my wrist. The needle, encased in Tegaderm and tape, confirmed I should be feeling no pain.

This was the price for not listening and disregarding the instructions.

The tv droned. I know I told them to turn it off. My lunch tray held a carton of milk, a cup of pudding, and a frosted container of ice cream, designed to tempt me.

Shaking my head, I pushed it aside. How many times must I tell them I am lactose intolerant? No, not kidding.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Vernal Serenade – 3 Line Tales

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

A faint warble penetrates the frozen windowpane and evokes memories of gentler days.

Days devoid of blistering cold with winds that test my resolve as they sling snowflake barbed insults.

The sweet song of summer is not my imagination, for in the barren feeder sits the harbinger of Spring.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Book Savant – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Book Savant
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 106
Word count: 100 words

Photo by Darwin Vegher

Viola surveyed the books piled floor to ceiling in no clear order. It was a place Sebastian would like.

“Can I help you, Miss…?” the voice behind her paused, waiting.

“Viola,” she said turning toward the old gentleman.

“Call me, Captain,” he extended his hand which Viola shook politely.

“I’m looking for my brother, Sebastian.”

“Viola and Sebastian?” he repeated before dashing down an aisle.

Viola blinked as the Captain reappeared and pushed a book into her hands.

“Shakespeare, Twelfth Night,” he said answering her confused look.

Viola held the book but said nothing.

“Your answers are there,” he said.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Relying on Promises — Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Renee Heath

“This is better,” Wyome proclaimed, watching the sunset.

“The ancestors’ prayers, answered,” Noshi said raising the firewater bottle to his lips. He drank and passed it to Tatonga, who lifted the bottle, saluting the sun and the ancestors in a single gesture.

“Here’s to Wakan Tanka and no White Man interference,” Tatonga toasted, before drinking from the bottle.

“To Gitche Manitou,” Wyome and Noshi said in unison.

“You think they’ll stay locked inside?” Wyome asked.

“Has the White Man ever keep his word?” Tatnonga countered.

“We’ll enjoy it while it lasts,” Wyome said taking the bottle as the others nodded.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Stolen Temple — 3 Line Tales

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

photo by Sam Loyd via Unsplash

There are devils standing to the left and to the right, I feel their cold despair and know their soul desire is to tear my world apart.

There are voices in the sky, saying on you I can rely, but their words are only lies.

They are the thieves that stole my heart, robbed me of your love, and now the thieves rule the temple tonight.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

TP Toddlers — FFfAW

Title: TP Toddlers
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of 01-22 through 01-28-2019
Word count:  170 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by H.R.R. Gorman. Thank you H.R.R.!

Nicky had spent twenty-four hours walking the floor with the baby. The doctor diagnosed a cold. Nothing to worry about he said. The baby thought otherwise, crying inconsolably. Nicky cooed and sung lullabies and tried to sooth the baby and watch her two older children.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she woke in a panic. The baby lay sleeping in her crib. Nicky watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. Relieved, Nicky rubbed her groggy head and went in search of her other two children.

They were not in their beds and the house was strangely quiet. She walked into the living room where she surveyed rearranged furniture, draped with bedsheets and rolls of toilet paper. Her two little ones lay asleep in the makeshift fort.

Her oldest stirred and smiled at her.

“I watched Jamie,” he said. “We made a fort. Do you like it, Mommy?”

“It’s a great fort. Is there room for me?”


Nicky crawled beneath the toilet paper canopy and hugged him.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

In A Corner — Thursday Threads

Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

“I need you to stay quiet and out of sight,” Marie said, searching her two babies’ faces. “Joshua, take care of Annie, okay?”

His lips form a hard line across his face and Annie looked scared, her sweet two-year-old mind incapable of understanding. Joshua wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

Marie placed her index finger to her pursed lips, smiled, then closed the cabinet door. Gripping the gun behind her back, she listened as the intruder searched for them.

She turned facing the locked door. He was getting closer. She listened to his footsteps, watched the doorknob shake.

The door shook, bouncing in its frame as the intruder kicked, once, twice. The wood splintered with a sickening sound and cracked around the hinges. One more kick and he would be in. The gun wobbled in her hand. It was heavy, and terror threatened to consume her, as unshed tears blurred her vision.

“This isn’t helping. You’re all they have.”

She inhaled, planted her feet hip distance apart, squared her shoulders and adjusted her grip. Steady now, her terror receded, replaced by anger.

“How dare you break into my home? Threaten my babies?”

A final kick sent the door flying inward, crashing to the floor, it skidded towards her. She didn’t flinch as it stopped inches from her feet. Face to face with the intruder he stared at her for a moment before he howled. It almost sounded like laughter, but she wasn’t laughing.

Marie took aim and fired.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer