May

The Match Up – FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: The Match Up
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #19
Word count: 200 words

They met after dark every Friday night at the abandoned warehouse. The road running past it was straight as an arrow, farmland to the north and a swampy creek on the south. The warehouse was too far from town. Even the cops didn’t come. It was only the crew.

It was like most other nights, except tonight the fog rose from the swamp and rolled across the road, threatening to engulf the lot. The first cars arrived. Jimmy slipped past the chained door that hung on bent hinges. Inside he flipped a switch and lights bathed the lot in an eerie glow. Everyone knew the drill, and they filled the slots.

Heads tuned when a late comer rolled in, fog oozing after him, boiling up and over the car as he slid from behind the wheel. The hooded stranger leaned against his bumper not uttering a word.

“Wanna race?” someone from the crew called.

The stranger nodded. They lined up, engines revved, Ginny dropped the flag. Tires squealed, and they vanished into the fog racing for the finish line. Eyes straining into the dark, a brilliant flash blinded them before the concussion of the crash knocked them to the ground.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Broken Legacy – FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Broken Legacy
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #18
Word count: 200 words

Marcus scooted another wooden crate out from under the workbench. He stood hefting the box to the top of the workbench’s well-worn surface and sorted its contents into three piles. The first and smallest pile held the handful of tools good enough for him to use as they were. A second, slightly larger pile contained tools he thought he could salvage. The third and largest pile was a mound of tools too rusted, pitted or broken from lack of care and improper storage to be of use to anyone.

He sighed as he surveyed the carnage. His never knew his grandfather, and it saddened Marcus. Grandpa had been a skilled and talented woodworker, his pieces scattered among the family. Why didn’t Grandma share this locked section of the basement with him? She had never shown him his workspace, not even when Marcus opened his own shop. Standing in the dank basement surrounded by his tools, Marcus met his grandfather. He didn’t understand why she would lock them away, letting them disintegrate in layers of rust and dust in a musty dungeon.

If he had known about his grandfather’s tools sooner, he might have saved them. It was such a waste.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Can I Use Duct Tape? — Friday Fictioneers

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 14 Comments

Title: Can I Use Duct Tape?
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

David carefully pulled the car into his parent’s garage. He shut off the engine, gingerly got out and softly shut the door.

“David? Is that you?” his mother called.

David’s heart sank when she poked her head into the garage. He hadn’t worked up the courage to tell her yet.

“Oh, my God! My car. What did you do to my car?” she said lifting the mirror with both hands.

“Mom, don’t be mad. I’m sorry,” he said as he burst into tears.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Good! Get my car fixed,” she said and stomped back into the house.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Wander’s Path – FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: The Wander’s Path
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #17
Word count: 200 words

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #17

Mitch had spent the last two years following where the road led. He had taken a trip to Cozumel for spring break one year and never went back. Some guys he met invited him to join their trip to Arica Chile to surf. He tagged along. The surfing had been stellar. When the surfing group returned home, he headed to Machu Picchu before finding another surfing adventure. When he wasn’t on the beach he picked up work to pay his expenses. Mitch found odd jobs working at surf shops, coffee bars, restaurants and night clubs. As the summer surf waned, he found an opportunity to help crew a yacht to Monte Carlo. In Europe, he learned to ski in the Swiss Alps and wandered through great cities and ancient ruins.

For the last week, Mitch surfed the waves at Kolibithra beach by day and slept on the sand each night. He lay on his back and studied the stars as they traveled across the heavens. They knew where they belonged, and where their paths would take them was certain. Mitch wondered where he belonged. One evening when the sea was calm his thoughts flew west. He knew where he belonged.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Up on the Roof — FFfAW

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 5 Comments

Title: Up on the Roof
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of May 9, 2017
Word count: 175 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinner. Thank you Yarnspinner for our prompt!

Silvana raced to the rooftop garden stopping at the edge of the manicured lawn. Hands on her hips, she stood gulping the hot, humidity laden air into her lungs. Her gaze fixated on a small patch of green near the horizon where the trees stood like soldiers fighting the buildings that threaten on all sides. She went there whenever she could. She imagined herself beneath the trees, solid earth under her feet. A breeze lifted her auburn tresses, stroking her head as a mother would caress an infant to calm him.

This place was strange. It was her home now, but everything was foreign, rigid, devoid of spirit. The gray walls, the black flooring and the pristine white of the apartment sucked the life out of her. The rooftop held color and living plants, but it felt as sterile as the apartment. Silvana recognized the same bleakness in the faces of the people surrounding her. They hurried caught in their heads, focused on the future, never seeing now. She promised them she would not fall.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

A Home at Last — FFfAW

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 3 Comments

Title: A Home at Last
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of May 2, 2017
Word count: 175 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Loretta Notto. Thank yoiu Loretta!

Ren clapped his hands together releasing sawdust and chips of wood from his gloves, sending them floating and swirling into the early evening light. Shoving one gloved hand under his armpit, he pulled his hand free and drug it across his sweaty forehead. He surveyed the bin filled with the logs he had spent the day cutting and stacking. Even though the weather had turned cooler before he began the job, it didn’t help. The saying was true, chopping your own firewood warmed you twice. Ren used a chainsaw instead of an axe, but the saying still held. In another week, he would have logs stacked high, enough for winter.

You could only depend on yourself when you lived in the woods. It was a life Ren loved, but this year was different. His responsibilities were double now. He shook his head still not believing the change. A confirmed bachelor, Ren fell in love when he least expected. That she loved him surprised him even more. His heart pounded in his chest, and he smiled.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Home Cooking — FFfAW

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Home Cooking
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of April 25, 2017
Word count: 175 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Dawn Miller. Thank you Dawn for our photo prompt!

The sign on the highway promised home cooking. It was the first sign in miles so we pulled off the road. It was an odd old building, two gas pumps stood out front. Inside was part grocery store, part hardware store and restaurant. Tables stood scattered among the aisles of Brillo pads, sandpaper and cans of Pork-N-Beans. Each table numbered from one to twenty and every table occupied with diners.

“Have a seat over there,” said the woman behind the cash register.

A few moments later, she squeezed past the table depositing two miss-matched paper cups and a two-liter bottle of soda on the green and white polka doted table.

“Menu boards up there. I’ll be back to take your order.”

Mel excused herself and headed towards the big sign marked “Restrooms”. I took out my phone and shot a picture to document this odd little world. I knew no one would believe me without it. We ordered off the menu board, expectations set reasonably low.

The first bite explained why the tables were full.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Pike’s Peak or Bust – FFfAW

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Pike’s Peak or Bust
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of April 18, 2017
Word count: 175 words

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan. Thank you Yinglan for our photo prompt!

The Greene farm began at the Forks of Plum Creek on October 29, 1859. Brothers John and Diamond Greene journeyed west to Kansas Territory seeking fortune in the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush. They didn’t find fortune in the bottom of a pan, instead they found it hidden in the piney forest. They built a sawmill and bought out prospectors who went bust. John died one cold winter, but Diamond refused to leave.

The Kansas Territory became the Colorado Territory and then the State of Colorado. As the years passed the family fortune passed from generation to generation. The Greene’s named their heirs Emerald, Royal, Ruby and Crystal in Diamond’s honor. One hundred and fifty years slipped by and the once great Greene family fortunes failed. They sold parcels to finance the farm until a man made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.

The sawmill and farm became a golf course and a subdivision. Family names became street names. The wagon that carried John and Diamond west sat abandoned. The Greene claim was finally a bust.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Sentinel of Yesterday — 100 Word Wednesday

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Sentinel of Yesterday
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 15
Word count: 100 words

Image Credit: Bikurgurl’s Mother, SandraJune

The days of the steamship, are no longer even a distant memory. Once, over a hundred years ago the steamship built San Francisco, shipping mail, people and goods to fuel the California Gold Rush. They built the pier to ease the flow of goods in the busy bay area. The steamship rebuilt the city after the earthquake and the resulting fire destroyed everything. Then war broke out, troops mustered and eventually they won the war. They painted the pier to welcome the conquering heroes home. The steamship era passed, memories faded, but the pier remained. The silent sentinel of yesterday.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Where the Road Ends — 100 Word Wednesday

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Where the Road Ends
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 15
Word count: 100 words

Image Credit: Bikurgurl

The old woman told Alex to follow the road until it ended. It went on for miles, around twists and turns back and forth across the face of mountains exploding from the sea. The edge crumbled, sending gravel flying into the abyss. The spray bounded off lower outcroppings, committing anything not securely attached to plunk into the waiting waves, descending to depths unknown.

Tired of its ordeal the road stopped in front of a pile of rock. White knuckles slowly released the steering wheel allowing Alex to climb out of the car. On spongy legs Alex surveyed his new home.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer