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.

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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.

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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.

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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?”

“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.”

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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.

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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.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Re-branding – Thursday photo prompt

Title: Re-branding
Source:  Thursday photo prompt: Sign #writephoto
Word count: 410 words

the image shows a clouded sky beneath a full moon. There is a wordless sign showing only a pointed hat, of the kind often worn by wizards

Circe came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the busy sidewalk.

“You can’t be serious?” she said. Glinda turned to look at her.

“What?” Glinda tilted her head and batted her eyelashes.

“Don’t play innocent with me, Glinda. That,” Circe said as she pointed at the shop’s sign depicting a pointed black witch’s hat.

Glinda’s hand rested on the shop’s door handle. She sighed and walked back to Circe.

“Dear, Circe. I’m not sure I understand your problem.” Glinda tilted her head again and smiled.

“When I agreed to go shopping with you, I was expecting ‘goddess’ shopping not ‘witch’ shopping. Especially not clichéd witch shopping.”

Glinda smiled and batted her eyelashes again.

“Come on Glinda, even you don’t wear a black pointed hat. You don’t expect me to, do you? Do you?” Circe’s eyes widened, her mouth gaping as Glinda continued to smile at her.

“No,” Circe exhaled the word, and she took a step backward. Glinda attempted to touch Circe’s arm. Circe recoiled, jerking her arm beyond Glinda’s reach.

“It is a requirement of the coven,” Glinda said.

“Geez, Glinda. Seriously? Next, you’ll be telling me I have to adopt a black cat and carry a wand.”

“Oh, no dear, your staff should do nicely.”

“And the cat?”

“With your propensity for transforming people into wild beasts, I’m sure we will find something acceptable.”

“I’m wondering why I agreed to this,” Circe shook her head.

“We both know why.”

“I am a goddess. People line up to worship me. They perform sacrifices in my honor. They fear my wrath.”

Glinda looked at the people passing them in the street. They hurried past them, giving them no notice.

“Yes, you are causing quite the stir. Perhaps you need to consider hiring bodyguards?”

Circe said nothing. Her shoulders slumped, and she could feel the hot sting of tears in her eyes.

“Darling, Circe, it’s not that bad. You’re just in need of a little re-branding. Nothing major. The coven is the first step. You’re lucky they agreed to accept your application.” Glinda moved to Circe’s side and slid her arm around her shoulder, giving her a gentle hug.

“If you work your magic, people will soon remember you. You’ll be great on social media and you’ll have millions of followers in no time.”

Circe brushed the tears away and attempted to smile.

“That’s better. Shall we see about that hat? You know, it doesn’t have to be black.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Deal or No Deal – 3 Line Tales

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

photo by Artem Bali via Unsplash

The thrill of the hunt and the adrenaline spike fueled Belle’s shopping frenzy.

She carried her new treasures home dropping the bags in a heap by the door.

Alone in her cluttered home, Belle sank onto the couch feeling as if she was still missing something.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Regaining Equilibrium – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: Regaining Equilibrium
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt # 97 – Equinox
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 83 words.
Word count: 83 words

Photo by Kimson Doan on Unsplash

My phone buzzed. Flicking the screen, I read the message and smiled. Time to go. I loaded the car, anticipating the celebration.

The end of ceaseless nights, frigid temperatures and depression-soaked days was never guaranteed. Hope sparked an ember, which ignited a promise of sunny days surrounded by dear friends. It buoyed my soul, focusing my resolve to preserve.

Against the odds, the vernal equinox arrived. My friends kindled the fire, as the sea breeze kissed my cheeks. The worst lay behind me.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Observing Rites – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Observing Rites
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 112
Word count: 100 words

Image by Bikurgurl

Conversation wasn’t Dad’s forte. Every Sunday he woke me. With fishing gear and a brown paper sack loaded with egg sandwiches, we headed to the sound. As dawn kissed the sky, our bobbers rode the waves.

The ritual had been absent for a month when he finally returned.

“Your mom -”

Dad’s voice drifted on the breeze and salt spray accumulated in his eyes. My throat tightened. Unable to speak, I wrapped my arm around his waist. His arm clung to my shoulder, pulling me close. We stood there in silence for what seemed like forever. We needed no words.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer