Double Crossed – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Double Crossed
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 127
Word count: 100 words

I was a man on fire. I drew you, attracted you with promises of sweet protection from demons haunting the night. Flirting with danger, I wondered why you wanted to cross the line, but those thoughts are fleeting when the world isn’t real. Super slow motion we crafted an illusion. Young and naïve, I tried to warn you, protect you from the peril I didn’t see until it was too late.

Your love lingers, a desperate memory on my heart, you left me broken pieces, fading glimpses.  My flame released to the wind.  I am a man burnt by yearning.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Seeking Heat – 3 Line Tales

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

photo by David Peters via Unsplash

City beaches bustle with pale sun seekers playing volleyball, dipping toes into the cool lake water and reveling in the summer breeze.

The roar of jet engines halts all activity, gazes lift skyward, they stand motionless, mimicking a deer in headlights.

Contrails spew patriotic colors, and a wing wag signals, today, there is nothing to fear.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Sharing Secrets – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: Sharing Secrets
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt #114 – Grimace
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 33 words.

Photo by Alfaz Sayed on Unsplash

He didn’t answer my question. Instead, his face erupted into a toothless, syrupy, centenarian, grimace which accentuated every crease and wrinkle. There was a twinkle in his eye, and I swear he winked.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Dressed by A Legend – Thursday Threads

Thursday Threads
250 Words

I am thrilled, and, if I’m honest, I am terrified. My dream is real. Countless auditions, endless rejections and penny pinching, will soon be history.

My schedule says report to wardrobe to meet an icon. Edith.

My hand trembles as I open the door to Wonderland. Aisles and rows of clothing reach to the ceiling and extend as far as I can see. I gasp. The number of clothes, hats, jackets, dresses, pants, is overwhelming. As I am taking it in, I feel someone watching me. I know it’s her.

She is shorter than I imagined. Dark bangs frame her large round glasses with blue-tinted lenses. Lips pursed; she regards me in silence.

“You’re Gary,” she says.

“Uh, I’m Jason. They want me to play Gary,” I stammer.

“You. Are. Gary,” she repeats as she pulls a pair of faded Levi’s and a flannel shirt from the mound of clothes stacked on the table behind her.

“Or you will be. Put these on.”

I duck behind the curtain to change. Glancing in the mirror I feel different. Pulling the curtain open, I grab a blue fedora jamming it on my head.

She snatches it away, swapping it for a different hat.

“Does it matter?” I ask.

“Think of yourself as a product. In order to achieve success, you have to sell that product, so start right now thinking of how you can improve it,” Edith says.

“Hi, Edith. I’m Gary,” I say as I shake her hand, and Edith smiles.

****** “What a costume designer does is a cross between magic and camouflage. We create the illusion of changing the actors into what they are not. We ask the public to believe that every time they see a performer on the screen, he’s become a different person.” Edith Head

Edith Head was nominated for 35 Oscars, winning eight times, more than any other costume designer and any woman in any category in Oscar history. She is also the inspiration for the character Edna Mode in The Incredibles.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Pulling the Plug – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The strap dug into her shoulder. Iola tried to shift it to a more comfortable position, but only yanked her hair. As she walked, the bag banged her hip and her high heels clicked on the pavement.

She was late. Her heel caught, and she tumbled to the ground. Scratched and bleeding, hot tears streamed down her face. It confirmed what she already knew.

“You, ok?” a voice asked.

“Lies, it’s all lies,” Iola sobbed.

“Sorry?”

“They said, ‘follow the rules,’ and I’d be happy.”

“You’re not?”

Iola brushed the gravel from her hands.

“No, but I will be now.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Cutting Deep – #MenageMonday!

Title: Cutting Deep
Source:  #MenageMonday! Challenge Week 2x 41

Source: Dreamstime

I struggle, fighting tangled sheets, I reach for my phone, knowing it’s him.

“Hey,” I answer. My speech is thick and breathless.

His voice sounds distant in my ear.

“You sound so far from home,” I hear myself say.

There is laughter, his friends shout hello to me as he shoos them aside.

“You’re so far away from me. We’re half a world apart,” I explain facts he already knows.

A door closes. He is alone now, and I am his desire. Beneath the almost imperceptible slur, his voice deepens and sweet memories tingle on my skin.

“We only make out on the telephone. It’s not the same,” I tell him.

He makes promises. I can recite them. I have repeated them so many times, cried countless nights, and believed in him. Will I never stop?

“You’re sitting in the sun,” I repeat, blinded by his accounts, truly happy for his triumphs.

“While I’ve been in the rain,” I say, but perhaps those words are only spoken to myself.

I wait for the call to end; a click and the line is dead. Laying the phone in the charger, I feel his arms around me, pulling me close. I roll towards him, eyes closed. His scent is asphyxiating as the tendrils snake into my mind, they wind down my throat and ensnare my heart. Our kiss is filled with longing, hope, undeniable love, and tears.

“You should tell him,” he whispers.

“Trust me.”

It is a promise I must keep.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Living with the Lady – 3 Line Tales

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

photo by Richard Clark via Unsplash

The Lady lifted the veil, revealing what could not be seen by mortal eyes.

She took pity on the plight of a poor orphaned boy, son of King Ban of Benwick who was slain by his enemy.

“I foresee a great destiny, one that will endure for all time, dear Lancelot du Lac.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Caught in Illusion – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: Caught in Illusion
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt #113 – Enthrall
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 54 words.

Photo by Joe deSousa on Unsplash

Now, when I think of her, I realize we danced on a precipice. The creature’s supple body, her distant eyes conspired to enthrall me. Her siren song consumed me. Blackened daylight seeped into desolate nights. My world did not exist.

The heavenly nightmare breaks, and I wake, yearning for a face I cannot remember.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Promise to Return Home – Thursday Threads

Photo by Jacob Dyer on Unsplash

Bria hesitated, her hand resting on the doorframe. She was reluctant to intrude on Holden’s late-night sojourn to the deck. It had started months ago. Bria woke to find him missing and discovered him outside staring at the stars. An occasional event had become a nightly ritual. Bria noticed other changes, his preoccupation, the deepening crease in his forehead, and the sadness in his eyes.

She thought it would pass, that her inquisitive, carefree and loving Holden would return. But as time passed, she grew less certain, fear nibbled at her heart and she knew they needed to talk. Bria gathered her courage and stepped forward, reaching for him she caressed his waist.

“What is wrong with you?” she whispered.

Holden sighed, looped his arm over Bria’s shoulder and drew her to his side.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said as he kissed her hair. “Go back to bed.”

“No, answer me.”

“Home is calling,” he said.

“When?” her voice trembled.

“Three days.”

“I could come with you…”

“You won’t survive the journey. We discussed this, remember,” Holden wrapped his arms around her and crushed her against him.

“But you’ll return,” she repeated the rehearsed lines.

“You will be old, and I will be as I am now. I will love you forever.”

“You will tell me the new stories of Myall.”

“I promise,” Holden said.

Bria closed her eyes, silently pledging to tell Holden of the star child she carried when he honored his vow to return.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Independence Day – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Lottie watched her father methodically shovel forkfuls of biscuits slathered with sausage gravy into his mouth. She never understood how he breathed, chew and swallow without choking on his food.

“Not, hungry?” he gestured towards Lottie’s plate with his loaded fork.

Her nose wrinkled and she tried to ignore the spittle and half-chewed food, as his fork found its mark.

“I’m not going to college,” Lottie blurted.

His face reddened as he choked, coughed and sputtered, swigging water he regained his normal coloring.

“Best eat your breakfast. It’ll be the last meal I’ll pay for.”

“I know,” she said.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer