Along the Primrose Path – #Thursday Threads

Photo by Alex Iby on Unsplash

Raindrops splatted, plonked and plopped on the leafy canopy as we made our way forward on the squishy trail. Lightening flashed in the distance, I sucked in my breath and counted.

“One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three–” before the thunder rolled over us. It grabbed my stomach and heart and shook until I thought I would vibrate off the trail.

Ahead of me, I watched Thora’s back stiffen, and she stopped. She raised her hand, and I also stopped, obeying her command.

“What do you hear?” It was a strange question to ask since Thora didn’t “hear” in the normal way. She shot a glance at me which clearly told me to “be quiet.”

It was then that an oversized, white rabbit jumped onto the trail. It stared at Thora. There was something familiar in the rabbit’s eyes. Recognition struck me as Thora bent to scoop him into her arms.

“Thora, no. It’s Zeus.”

It was too late, Zeus had wrapped all four of his bunny paws around her.

“Damn it, Zeus. Can’t you control your animal desires?”

Zeus smiled when he looked at me.

“Oh, Pan. Who do you think you are? You dare to reprimand me for my animal desires? You can’t protect her. She is mine now.”

Zeus’ momentary distraction was all Thora needed. I watched her lips move, and her body shimmer in a diaphanous transformation. Thora’s laughter floated on the breeze. It shook the leafy canopy and doused Zeus with a cold shower of raindrops.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Story Board – Stock Photo Challenge

Title: Story Board
Source:  Stock Photo Challenge
Word count: 100 words

“No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong. Haven’t you heard a word I said?”

Roy shoved the sketchpad towards the artist. As Roy stood, his chair toppled backward and bounced on the cement floor.

Startled, the sketch artist lunged, saving the sketchpad from the chair’s fate.

“Mr. Neary. Please. I’m trying.”

“Try harder,” Roy yelled and then, regretting his rough tone, he wiped his hand across his forehead.

“Ok,” he said, calmer now, “How about less ‘The Day the Earth Stood Still’ and more ‘E.T.’ with Christmas lights?”

The sketch artists beamed, turned the sketchbook’s page and began again.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Dragon Deal

Photo by Jared Rice on Unsplash

Once upon a time, Princess Lola watched as her father drew the lottery name for the annual sacrifice. The name was hers.

Her family cried, but Lola had a plan.

Late at night, she made her way to the Dragon’s Den.

Smoke billowed from the cave.

“You’re early,” the dragon’s voice echoed through the cave.

“I have a deal for you. It’s just between us,” Lola said.

“I have a deal with your father,” the dragon countered.

“Your deal is for girls. Wouldn’t you like a juicy boy?”

“You are scrawny.” The smoke heaved and billowed as the dragon chuckled.

“I’ll bring a boy if you’ll spare my life.”

“Are boys tasty?”

Lola promised the dragon a boy and several hours later she returned.

“Where are we going?” the chubby boy asked as he clung to Lola’s hand.

“It’s not much further,” Lola said pulling him along behind her.

“Is this the Dragon’s Den?” the boy asked as they reached the end of the trail.

“Dragon,” Lola called.

The dragon’s claw grabbed the boy, and he was gone.

“Remember our deal, Dragon,” Lola called over her shoulder. Not waiting for the dragon’s answer, she hurried home.

The next day the festival led Lola along the same path to the Dragon’s Den.

Like the previous night, the dragon’s claw reached from its den, this time the dragon grabbed Lola.

“Hey, we had a deal,” Lola screamed.

“Deal? What deal?” the dragon asked.

“Remember, I brought you a boy and you promised you’d spare my life.”

The dragon laughed.

“Promise? I made no promise. Besides, girls are made from sugar and spice and everything nice. Boys are not as tasty.”

And Lola was gone.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Mighty Mouse – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: Mighty Mouse
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about a mouse.
Word count:  99 words

red computer mouse

Photo by MacMillen on Unsplash

I stumble to my desk. The coffee sloshing in my cup slips over the edge trickles down the side and drips onto my freshly printed manuscript.

I blot the drop, but the damage is done. Adding insult to injury I mark the draft with a giant coffee ring. I have no fear. Mighty Mouse will save the day. The laptop purrs, Mighty Mouse chases clicks across the laptop’s screen while I sip my coffee.

The printer springs to life, spitting out pages as the Mouse commands.

The pristine draft restored, it awaits the torture session of the red pen.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Cultivating Joy – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Cultivating Joy
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 111
Word count: 100 words

Image by Arno Smit

As a Customer Service Supervisor, Imogene solved other people’s problems and smoothed ruffled feathers. She loved her job, and she did it well.

Occasionally, silly complaints, abusive attitudes, and stretched truths wore on her nerves. Today was one of those days. Imogene counted the minutes, waiting to rush to her sanctuary.

The potting shed wasn’t fancy, but it belonged to her. Here, she could sink her hands into warm dirt, feel the sun’s heat on her back and hear the bird’s sweet songs. The breeze caressed her, and her plants grew and flowered as she tended them with loving care.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Seeking Knowledge – 3 Line Tales

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

photo by Clem Onojeghuo via Unsplash

Stacks upon stacks of books accumulated, collected, hoarded in the quest of knowledge.

Formats change, culling the best, the rest released into the wild.

The quest became more focused, the never-ending search for the forgotten truths.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

To New Friends – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: To New Friends
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt # 96 – Seashore
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 59 words.
Word count: 59 words

lighthouse on a rocky seashore on a misty day

Photo by Erwan Hesry on Unsplash

Francois walked the rocky seashore daily. Passing the lighthouse, he hoped to spy the keeper. The old man was reclusive, reluctant to make new friends. Undaunted, Francois waved whenever he saw him.

Today he stood, surveying the misty gray horizon. Francois waved and smiled with delight when the old man laid his finger to the rim of his hat.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Chicago Style – Stock Photo Challenge

Title: Chicago Style
Source:  Stock Photo Challenge
Word count: 100 words

two male hands each holding a green beer bottle on a green background

Paddy and Rowan arrived at the city boat slip. Mike oversaw the operations as he had for over forty years.

“You listen close to Mike.  He’ll not be caring who you are,” Paddy whispered to Rowan.

Rowan smiled and climbed into the boat. Dipping flour sifters into orange dye, they waited while Mike piloted the boat into the river.

“Now lads,” Mike bellowed above the noise of the boat’s engine.

Forty-five minutes later the river sparkled emerald green in the chilly March sun.

“Happy St. Patrick’s Day,” the crew shouted to the jubilant crowd.

“Time for a Guinness,” Mike yelled.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Harbinger

Long before dawn, Callie was awake, dressed and headed to her car. The night’s light snowfall and freezing temperatures meant she needed to clear the car windows. She shivered as she crunched across the parking lot, adjusting her hood to shield herself from the biting wind.

The long frigid days, dark gray skies and never-ending work hours left her weary. This morning she had been reluctant to leave her warm bed. She fantasized, imagined pulling the covers over her head, forgetting her responsibilities and letting sleep take her. The boss would not approve, and her meager paycheck would be lighter than she could afford.

The car blasted freezing air through the heater, and she hit the button for the rear defogger. It would clear the back window while she chipped ice and snow from the windshield. She worked quickly, eager to avoid the wind and blowing snow.

The door squeaked as Callie tossed the snow scraper in the back seat and slammed the door closed. She blew on her hands, creating heavy clouds in the still cold car.

“The forecast calls for another cold day, today,” the voice chirped from the radio.

“Who would have guessed?” Callie responded as she drove.

“Didn’t the groundhog predict an early spring?” the voice continued.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Don’t hold your breath, but we’re predicting a warm-up for next week.”

“Promises, promises,” Callie grumbled.

“No, really folks, it looks like we might be able to shed a few layers by next Tuesday or Wednesday.”

“You’re pretty optimistic. Besides, aren’t you guys wrong half the time?”

The station switched to music and Callie noticed a slight orange glow of dawn tinting the sky.

Darkness ebbed as she drove. Her car was almost lukewarm when she pulled into the work parking lot. She hunched, head down, as she braved the walk to the entrance.

Beside the door, a purple splotch lay on the ground.

“Why can’t people put their trash in the bin?” she wondered as she stooped to grab it.

But it wasn’t trash. Confused, Callie brushed back the snow. There, sheltered from the worst of the weather, purple crocus emerged from their hibernation. The tiny heralds boldly proclaimed winter’s end. Hope washed the bitterness from her soul and buoyed her tired body.

“Spring is here,” she whispered.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Go Bag, Go – Friday Fictioneers

Title: Go Bag, Go
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Maria swung her grocery bag, humming a tune as she hurried home. Turning the last corner, she halted, the grocery bag bumping her leg.

Parked in the space by her door, was Carlo’s scooter. Like old times, her heart raced, and bile chocked her throat.  Panicking, she scanned the courtyard and glanced at her upstairs window. Senses alert, she turned and ran.

“Oh god. Did he see me?” she wondered as she ran.

People stared, and she slowed her pace.

“Think, Maria. You have a plan.”

She retrieved the key from her purse.

“Train station. Left luggage locker. Destination unknown.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer