Scavenger Hunt – #MenageMonday!

Title: Scavenger Hunt
Source:  #MenageMonday! Challenge Week 2×26
Word count: 250 words

malaysia rain on window overlooking the city

Source: Malleni-Stock

I arrived late to the party.

“Jon. You’re here. Let’s pair you with Abby,” Miriam pulled me toward the rain-drenched window and a quiet brunette in a grey trench coat. Miriam introduced us, shoved a paper in my hands and left.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Scavenger hunt,” Abby said indicating her crumpled page.

Rex completed our group, and we began.

“A circus elephant?” Abby read as we reached street level.

“Dude, I’ve got this. Follow me,” Rex smiled and headed south. Abby shrugged, and we followed.

Rain pelted us as we shot photos of the items on the list.  After one photo, Abby pulled me aside and pointed to her list. Where the raindrops wet the page, words appeared.

“Look in the windowbox,” it said.

Abby nodded at the planter affixed to the front of the shop. Searching among the flowers she retrieved a gun. I stared in disbelief as she let her coat sleeve drop, concealing everything except the gun’s silencer.

“Rex. This way,” she said as she stepped into the dark alley.

Rex followed while I hesitated. Halfway along the ally, Abby turned, aimed, and shot Rex in the head.

“Holy shit,” I screamed. “What the hell?”

“Read the next item,” Abby said as if Rex’s corpse had disappeared.

“Kill the King? But that’s a song. Right?”

“And the next one.”

My hands shook as I scanned the list, watching the words appear.

“Meet your new partner,” I read, then looked back at Abby. She smiled.

“Howdy, partner.”


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Pulled From the Brink – Thursday photo prompt

Title: Pulled From the Brink
Source:  Thursday photo prompt: Rift #writephoto
Word count: 678 words

the image shows a clearing in an autumnal wood, where what appears to be a large crack runs the rock floor.

“Is this where it happened?” I asked.

Greggory nodded, as he scanned the clearing. I sensed his nervousness, and his desire to be anywhere except standing on this fractured rock and holding a lance with a flag tied its handle. I couldn’t blame him, poor thing. Greggory may not have been bright, but he had certain desirable qualities and I understood why Lindor kept him around.

“Greggory?” I caught his attention, compelling him to look at me before I continued. “Where was your master standing?”

Hunching his shoulders, Greggory shivered and jabbed his finger towards the opposite end of the fissure.  I moved to where an area looked as if someone had scrubbed it clean and stepped into the middle of the spot.


“Please, have a care. Don’t stand there,” Greggory said as tears welled.

“We’re almost done, Greggory. One more thing and you can leave,” I smiled as I tried to calm him and myself. “Are you ready?”

He took a deep breath and looked into my eyes.

“Then you promise? I can go?”

“I give you my word.”

Greggory gulped, blinked several times then stood tall and said, “Ready.”

“Can you plant the lance where Ju-long stood when your master disappeared?” I asked and watched as terror threatened to consume him again. “Greggory, I need to know, if we have any chance of locating him.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“You trust me. Right? And I promised I wouldn’t let anything harm you. And nothing will. I ask because it’s important.”

He stood silent and unmoving. I wondered if coming here was a mistake if we had lost Lindor. I tried to stay calm, willing Greggory to cooperate. When I had almost lost hope, he turned and walked to the clearing’s edge. When he stopped, he glanced, adjusted his position then planted his flag in the ground. I waved, and he ran.

Birds chirped in the trees and a gentle gust tugged at Greggory’s colorful banner. The sense of serenity masked the vibrations emanating from the spot where I stood. It was my turn to be apprehensive as I prepared for the or task ahead.

I pulled the ancient words from the depths of my memory. As I spoke the breeze intensified, dark clouds gathered, and lightning flashed across the sky. I reached forward gathering Ju-long’s residual magic as Greggory’s spear trembled then bent towards my hand. The rock rattled, the rift oozed smoke, and I thought the entire world might crack in two. Still, I chanted and hoped.

Lindor’s voice whispered in my ears and I strained to decipher his words.

With each repetition of the incantation, Lindor’s chant grew stronger, louder. He spoke with me, our voices united. I felt his magic growing, fusing with mine. The strength he wielded was intoxicating, and I grasped it, clinging to it with one wish. I wanted his power. An explosion ripped through my head, a concussion slammed into my chest, throwing me into the air and my perception of reality ended.

When I awoke, Lindor’s face filled my vision. He smiled.

“There you are my greedy little savior,” he chuckled as he tussled my hair. “No time to lie about. Get up, get up,” he commanded and clapped his hands.

“What?” I asked, as Lindor stood and rubbed his palms on his sooty robe. I looked around the clearing where everything appeared the same as when Greggory and I first arrived. Everything except the rock where the great fissure had vanished.

“Come now, we can’t say here. It’s not safe you know,” Lindor picked up his staff and walked towards the trees. “And what have you done with Greggory?” he called.

I smiled and followed.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Our Chosen Road – 3 Line Tales

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

photo by Danny G 

We bucked tradition, ignored the gossip, the ridicule and censure.

We predicted difficulties on our chosen road, anticipated storms, expected ostracization, and lonely times without friends.

Boldly we moved forward, confident in our mutual trust, believing in the constant love that shaped our world.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Legend Keeper – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: Legend Keeper
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story that features a bucket of water.
Word count:  99 words

Photo by Fikri Rasyid on Unsplash

No one remembered the well digging ceremony, the water pump’s installation, or the water bucket’s significance. During the troubles, it was the only county pump to provide clear, pure water.

This was my family’s land. My land and my responsibility. The caretakers ensured we wasted not a drop of precious life-giving fluid. The task grew more difficult with each passing year. Many had forsaken the old ways, and the relic’s existence faded, erased from common memory.

As the keeper, I held the stories, legends, and rituals. With the full moon, the remaining guardians gathered and spoke with the sprites.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Wisdom Re-Imagined – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: Wisdom Re-Imagined
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt #98 – Impervious
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 99 words.

Photo by Dave Ruck on Unsplash

Like the mountain goat, Moritz selected his footing carefully. He scouted the rugged terrain, searching for a spot impervious to the winter snows and spring mudslides.

The villagers in the valley below laughed, but Moritz remained steadfast, immune to their taunts. He trusted the overhanging wall would protect him. He dragged building supplies to the narrow strip of land next to the sheer cliff face.

He worked his dream, his structure took shape, and the winter snow proved his case. Those in the valley saw Moritz’s wisdom. With work finished on his new home, they called him a genius.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Life Waits in Helmfirth – Stock Photo Challenge

Title: Life Waits in Helmfirth
Source:  Stock Photo Challenge
Word count: 100 words

Happy smiling girl or young millennial hipster woman in red beanie, with two braids, glasses and raincoat makes selfie photo on smartphone in iceland, under epic waterfall, social media travel blogger

Most mornings are a blur of activities as we rush to work, school and schedules filled with meetings, deadlines and performance reviews.

Welcome to Helmfirth. We invite you to make memorable mornings in a place designed to let you savor the best of what life has to offer.

With Helmfirth’s countless outdoor attractions, we know you will find the perfect spot to answer Mother Nature’s call.  Meet with adventure, review the effects of water’s true potential, and enjoy a journey without deadlines.

Relax. Unwind. Recharge. Reunite with your family. Reconnect with your dreams.

You’ll find it all here, in Helmfirth.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Breathless Echo – Friday Fictioneers

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

ferris wheel

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The amusement park was dead.  Gemma didn’t understand why they left the lights blazing in the middle of winter. Bathed in the festival light’s eerie glow, ghostly aberrations walked the streets below her.

Gemma shivered, unsure if it was the cold or the passing ghosts. Winter’s grip froze the lake where they rented paddleboats each summer. Distorted reflections mirrored the night, enhancing the funhouse feeling Gemma loathed.

Voices shrieked, surreal terror clutched at Gemma’s throat, as the Ferris wheel spun. Torn from its supports, the wheel rolled merrily into the lake and the voices died, forever frozen in the night.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Can’t Say Goodbye – Thursday Threads

Photo by Blake Barlow on Unsplash

I placed a listing on the web for her. I landed a new job. I was moving across the country, and she no longer fit my plans. It was nothing personal. We had a great run, and great memories of our time together. They say nothing lasts forever.

A guy named Chet answered my ad, and we set up a time to meet so he could look her over, take her for a ride. Chet required the service she could provide and offered cold hard cash. I didn’t refuse.

I was sad to see her go. I thanked Chet for taking her off my hands. I wished her well and tried to forget about her.

The next day my phone rang.  It was Chet.

“Could you please tell me her name?”


“What’s the car’s name?”

“I called her Baylee. Why?”

“She won’t let me drive her. Says she only works for people who know her name.”

“Baylee,” I repeated.

Several hours later Chet was banging on my door. When I opened it, he threw the keys at me.

“I want my money back. She only wants you and I’m not about to put up with her shit.”

Chet raged at me while I counted out his cash and I was happy to see his backside.

In the driveway, I stroked her fender before climbing in to start her. She purred.

“I missed you too, baby,” I said as I caressed her dash.

“I promise, I’ll never let you go.”


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Our Special Way – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Our Special Way
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 113
Word count: 100 words

Image by Bikurgurl

Sandy was a special child. We didn’t realize how special she was until after she was born. In school, her light overshadowed the others, and they treated her differently. Children can be cruel to those they don’t understand.

Sandy wasn’t one of those children. Their taunts fell on deaf ears, and their hatred fell on a forgiving heart. Still, sometimes Sandy cried. Not for herself, no, never that. She cried for them.

At our special spot, the crashing waves drowned their words. The breeze kissed her heart, refilling it with love and compassion. And we spoke in our special way.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer


The Master’s Hands – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: The Master’s Hands
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story that includes a chisel.
Word count:  99 words

Photo by Bogomil Mihaylov on Unsplash

Turner’s left hand skimmed the tools on the workbench, each tool in its assigned space. To his right, the lathe hummed, a familiar cadence to the master’s tune. His ear told him his piece was unbalanced. Spinning at twelve hundred RPM, the music didn’t sing.

He found the required chisel and returned to his work. Touching his chisel to the spinning form, the tool bounced, and the wood chirped. Firm against the guide, severed wood spiraled in curls, deflected by his visor, the continuous curls covered his hands. He worked meticulously, immersed in the rhythm of his spinning reality.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer