From Sonya’s 3LineTales at Only100Words.
You can find the original prompt here. Thank you, Sonya
Photo by Dave Herring on Unsplash
Sylvie’s heart pounded in her chest, afraid of what she longed to do.
He had made his choice, and it wasn’t her.
Last night, their final moments tattooed her senses, and confirmed his lies.
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Jo Hawk The Writer
Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash
Sofia sat across from Marsh. He was quiet, sipping his whiskey, and focusing on his phone. She had learned to never interrupt him.
The waiter laid their dinner plates on the table and Marsh studied her.
“Sofia, do you love me?”
“Of course, I do.”
“You know, I would have believed anything you said,” Marsh paused, “Until now.”
Marsh turned the device toward her. The image showed her and Nick, naked, and in his bed.
Her hands trembled and her cheeks burned.
“It’s not what you think…”
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Marsh said laying his phone aside.
Sofia remained silent, waiting as Marsh started eating.
“It appears I have been neglecting my duties as a husband.”
“No…”
“No? Your photo tells a different story.”
“It’s over,” she whispered.
“Yes, it is.” Marsh stuffed a bite in his mouth.
“I know. You need to get pregnant,” he said jabbing his knife toward Sofia with each syllable.
“I don’t want a baby.”
“Liar,” the force of the word slapped her. Marsh leaned back in his chair.
“I would believe you, but there is that image. And it says the opposite.”
Sofia knew Marsh would be angry, but his reaction scared her more than his anger ever could. She wasn’t safe now. She almost laughed. She realized he had always threatened her. The fleeting thoughts of leaving him began to coalesce in her mind. Her subconscious had been planning her escape for years. It was time to execute her plan.
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Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Solid Footing
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 132
Word count: 100 words
Image by Bikurgurl
Mom hated his squeaky saxophone and forbid him from practicing in the house. Banished, he took his show on the road and in the backyard, he pinned sheet music to the clothesline, riffing on bird calls he had a ball.
His teachers took notice, pressured him to perform, propelled him toward stardom and burnout.
Meeting a sax player in a no-name band, and his face betrayed his sorrow for the man.
“Don’t pity me. I love my life and my music. It’s a secret too few learn.”
He realizing he longed to return to his beginnings to rediscover his joy.
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Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Defying Desperation
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words
PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie
The building stood, defying everything society condemned. Where others saw death, destruction, and decay, Julia envisioned a second chance. The ‘No Trespassing’ signs dared her. They issued a challenge to live against the grain, to celebrate her way of life. They called her to act.
Friends and family shook their heads. They tried to illustrate the benefits of conforming, of walking with the crowd. Their desperation confirmed deviating from her truth was not worth the price.
Determined to stand her ground, she made her vow.
She planted her visions in the cracks and waited for nature to take its course.
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Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Red Hot Hope
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 129
Word count: 100 words
Image by Bikurgurl
Jamie collapsed against the steering wheel, letting the diesel engine idled. Sweat poured down his neck, pooling under his hatband. AC vents blew hot air. Removing the ball cap, he tossed it on the metal cashbox on the seat next to him.
Yesterday he had reached the end of the road. He spent his last dollar to set up at the street fair. A scorcher, wrapped in humidity, fanned by the flaming grill, it was his only chance.
Exhausted, he knew he had done his best. The take was enough for tomorrow and Jamie breathed as the AC kicked in.
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Jo Hawk The Writer
Source: Dreamstime
Stacy walked a fragile line. It was a precarious balance between her two worlds. Light and dark, right and wrong, battling for her soul.
She kept going, doing the work of living while she waited for the voices. Lights flashed, and a cop stepped from the squad car. She glanced into the shadows. She saw him lurking there, watching.
“What are you doing here?” the officer asked.
Stacy checked the darkness again but didn’t answer.
“Are you lost?” he tried again.
“Everything is black and white for you, isn’t it?” she asked.
“I only want to help you, my friend.”
“You’re not my buddy, cop. Hell, you’re acting like my father, and that isn’t a compliment.”
“Let’s get you home, somewhere safe,” he reached for her, touching her elbow.
“Safe? At home?” Stacy sniffed and twisted free from his grasp.
She felt the shadow figure smile, and she smiled in response. He was everywhere, always watching.
But he wasn’t the one she feared. He had threatened her for years and told her he would punish her if she did not behave. She lived in fear of making him angry and inflicting his punishment. She was small and delicate, and she bruised easily.
When she was nine, her mother died, a casualty of a stern hand too heavily applied. During the day, dark corners were her refuge, and the creature whispered secrets. He swore to protect her.
His white-gloved hand extended from his coal-black uniform.
Stacy hesitated, then descended into darkness.
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Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: A Real Rock Star
Source: Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about a rock star.
Word count: 99 words
Photo by John Fowler on Unsplash
Stars floated above Kye’s head. He couldn’t sleep when the ancients whispered. His gaze shifted from the sky to his sleeping brother. Their sheep rested quietly in the canyon’s safety.
Kye hefted a rock tossing it in his hand before using it to scrape images into the desert varnish coating the granite wall. The scene completed; his fingers rested on the depiction of his world.
The stars spun, eons passed, and the ancient voices grew silent. Kevin hiked into the park, hunting for answers. Placing his hand on the petroglyph he reached through time to touch the creator’s soul.
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Jo Hawk The Writer ©
Photo by Robert Bye on Unsplash
Source: Weekend Writing Prompt #117 – Antipathy
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 30 words.
Dylan struggled to shake his antipathy, to find tolerance. Dark thoughts lead him to the black beach where gray skies and crashing surf reflected his struggles but provided no answers.
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Jo Hawk The Writer ©
Title: Plans Interrupted
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 131
Word count: 100 words
Image by Bikurgurl
It was too soon. Since the accident, Donna couldn’t handle her own care. But someone had to watch Jason during summer break.
“How can I manage an active six-year-old?” she asked.
The options were slim, and she finally agreed.
It was a rocky start. Desperate, she suggested they visit the park. It was a compromise that became a daily ritual.
“Grandma. Look at me,” Jason yelled as he climbed the fort.
“Can we get ice cream?”
“Why not?”
Jason slid down the slide and ran to his grandmother’s wheelchair.
“I can push you,” he said.
“Best plan I’ve heard today.”
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Jo Hawk The Writer ©
Sun beat on the black asphalt. Dale turned, watching Number 12 roar past him, slamming to a stop in the pit. The driver revved the engine, sending exhaust waffling into the air.
Crackling snapped and popped in Coop’s ear.
“Now?”
Coop shook his head, waving Dale off.
‘Damn, newbie,’ Coop thought. Teaming with Dale wasn’t his choice. Young, untested, and eager to please wasn’t a good combo for this mission. He calculated the chances of completion at seventy-five percent. If he hadn’t needed a warm body for the heavy lifting, he would have insisted on working alone.
Number 12 bounced, tires spinning and squealing as the pit crew dropped it to the pavement. The racecar shimmied while bodies dove over the barrier dragging hoses and equipment with them. A wall of smoke engulfed the area and the car scudded onto the track.
“What’s the deal?” Dale’s voice exploded in Coop’s earphone. Coop did his best to remain calm when he saw Dale rushing toward him.
“We need confirmation,” Coop yelled over the track’s din.
“We’re not getting many more chances,” Dale shouted.
Coop shrugged, heading toward the crew, but the sound of sheering metal, stopped him cold. Hearing an explosion, he swung around to observe a fireball rising from the track. A quick glance at the monitor confirmed what Coop already knew.
He let his gaze scan the chaotic pit area. A helmeted figure in the team’s colors faced Coop, gave him a thumbs-up, then silently disappeared into the crowd.
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Jo Hawk The Writer
Jo Hawk 