July

Peter’s Express – FFfPP #27

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 3 Comments

Title: Peter’s Express
Source:  FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018 WEEK #27
Word count:  156 words

black-and-white-person-train-motion-42153 Pixel photo

Lou hurried down the stairs, late his first day back since the incident. Turning the corner, he stopped face to face with Peter. Peter stood motionless, his back to the rails and the speeding express. He stared at Lou the question plastered on his face. Someone knocked into Lou and he looked away, off balance. When he turned, Peter had disappeared into a swirl of air left by the express. Lou tried to dismiss the image.

He never knew Peter; the cops introduced them last week. A college student going to class they said. They questioned him looking for a connection, a motive. A security camera analysis gave them an unsatisfactory answer. The crowd veered, like a school of fish, and Lou swayed with them, knocking into Peter. Off balance, Peter fell onto the rails in front of the oncoming express. A freak accident Lou would question every morning when he saw Peter and the express.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Barriers – 100WW 78

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Barriers
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 78
Word count: 100 words

Image by Bikurgurl

Her brothers were the focus of the family. Her father told her so. She had earned better grades and scored higher on the tests than any of them. But they were the ones rewarded with what she desperately desired. He sent her brothers to college.

She worked two jobs and took as many classes as she could afford, subsisting on Raman. The girls from her chem class sat talking. As she approached, they grew silent and stared are her, stared at her fish-belly white skin, slight form and her blond hair. She knew the stereotype they saw and kept walking.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Trust

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 2 Comments

Adahy began his day long before sunrise. Accustomed to walking long distances without stopping, he left no evidence of his passing. The thick forest made the trail difficult to follow, but he was sure of his skills. As the day passed, Adahy worried if perhaps the directions were wrong.

He stopped and closed his eyes. Once again, he sat at the fire speaking with Hania. They spoke for only a short time, but Hania’s gave specific directions and Adahy focused on each word, committing the conversation to memory.  Adahy retraced his steps comparing them to Hania’s directions. He trusted his memory and his skills; so, he wondered if Hania lied to him.

The stakes were too high, so he kept walking as the sun slid towards the horizon. At last, he saw the trail tree, and it looked exactly as Hania had described.  Adahy sighted along the trunk of the tree as instructed. With the location fixed he broke into a run. The sun was setting, and his future depended on him reaching the camp before the ax fell.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Remembering Roses — FFfAW # 172

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 11 Comments

Title:  Remembering Roses
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count:  150 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Michelle De Angelis. Thank you, Michelle!

I pulled the box out of the closet and brushed the dust from the top before opening it. This box was full of photos. I had never seen some of them, others showed images of friends and family, looking much younger than they did now. As I flipped through them, one old Polaroid caught my attention and transported me back in time.

It was a hot and humid day, so we drove to the botanical gardens. She loved to walk the paths through the fragrant roses. She pointed to different flowers and called them by their Latin names. Old friends, she said laughing. We talked about many things that day and our talk helped. It was one of the many things I loved about her.

I brushed the tears flowing down my cheeks, set the box in the pile of things to keep and slipped the photo into my pocket.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Good Dog Gunner

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 2 Comments

Photo on Visualhunt

Gunner’s nose twitched, pulling his head from his sleeping position. His eyes opened slowly and focused on my face. I smiled, and he got to his feet shaking his body from the nose to his tail, in the way dogs do. When he stopped, he was awake, his nose sniffed the air until he caught the scent. He was a smart dog. The nose told me he knew about the treats in my pocket.

I patted his head calling him a good dog, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Brown puppy dog eyes tried to melt me into submission. I was strong. He cocked his head and I could hear the voice in his head. I watched him and didn’t say a word. He pranced and wagged his tail and the nose wiggled, confirming there were yummy cookies he should be eating. Growing impatient he bayed.

“Shh,” I whispered, and he cocked his head again trying to understand.

“Sit,” the command was firm, and Gunner’s eyes shifted from my face to my pocket and back to my face.

“Sit,” I said again. I held my breath as he wavered, thinking, learning.

Then Gunner sat, tail thumping on the floor, nose twitching, waiting. He didn’t wait long, and the treat disappeared in an instant. Gunner got up, but the nose focused him on the scent – more treats in my pocket. He stared at me and sat once more.

Training had begun.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

In Season

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Photo on Visual hunt

In Season

Elenore raced downstairs to the kitchen. The aroma of morning coffee told her she had overslept, and she’d better hurry, or there wouldn’t be any food left. She slid onto the bench next to her eldest brother and he passed a platter of scrambled eggs.

“Joshua! You can put that last slice of bacon on Elenore’s plate,” he said.

Joshua froze, the bacon suspended inches from his open mouth and shot David a dirty look.

“But I’m still hungry.”

David picked up Elenore’s plate and held it in front of Joshua. He didn’t say a word. Joshua sighed dropping the bacon on the plate next to the last of the scrambled eggs.

“Thank you, Joshua,” Elenore smiled as David deposited the plate in front of her.

“There’s oatmeal if you’re still hungry,” Gram called from the sink, her back to the table.

Grampa slid a buttered toast triangle from his plate to Elenore’s.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Grampa and I had the best dream.”

“Did you now?” Grampa’s silver eyebrow arched, wrinkles spreading across his forehead.

“Mm, I dreamed Gram, and I were making my favorite jam.”

“Elenore, how many times have I told you not to speak with your mouth full?”

Elenore’s eyes bugged out, and she swallowed before answering, “Sorry Gram.”

“Were there pork chops as well?” Grampa winked and smiled at her before he pushed his chair back from the table.

“Yes.”

“What do you think Babe?” Grampa asked making his way to the sink to give Gram a peck on the check.

“I think you’re dreaming too.”

Grampa chuckled and pushed open the screen door. The boys got up without him asking and followed him to the barn.

Elenore finished her breakfast then stacked the plates and flatware and carried them to the counter beside the sink. Gram handed her a damp rag, so she could wipe the table and chairs. They continued their morning work until the kitchen was spotless.

“May I see if they are ready?” Elenore’s voice broke the silence.

“Take a basket with you.”

Elenore picked up the basket and slipped out the door. She squinted as she looked at the kitchen garden. A warm breeze tickled the plants, bending them back and forth in an elaborate dance. Elenore danced too, her basket spinning she skipped past the garden towards her destination. It wasn’t far. Approaching the thicket, she flushed blackbirds from the bushes.

“Go away birds!” she shouted, “You can’t have my gooseberries.” She waved her arms and ran the last few yards. The birds squawked in protest as they flapped into the blue sky.

She eyed the purple and green translucent gems. She pulled a deep purple berry from its stem and popped it in her mouth.  It made her pucker and then smile with delight. They were ready. With her full basket, her dream would soon come true.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer