Adapting to Technology – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Adapting to Technology
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 121
Word count: 100 words

Image by Adriana Velásquez 

Virginia focused her concentration and knocked the bookshelves’ contents onto the floor. They crashed, thumping as they landed. The sound reverberated through the quiet library.

Megan jumped from her chair, investigating each row until she found the pile.

“Not again,” Megan looked, but she knew she was alone.

“I need more books,” Virginia screeched.

Megan replaced them on their shelf.

Virginia had seen the magical black slates the patrons carried. Peaking over shoulders revealed enough words and stories to quell her boredom. It only took a finger swipe to turn the pages.

It was a trick she hadn’t mastered. Yet.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

 

The Contender’s Heat – Friday Fictioneers

Title: The Contender’s Heat
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Jenny froze. On the starting block, her uncomfortable swimsuit grabbed her in places she would rather not be grabbed. Her goggles threatened to suck her eyes from their sockets and the swim cap distorted every sound in the echoing natatorium.

Terrifying memories surfaced warning her of imminent danger. She held her breath. Brackish water swirled and silt obscured her vision. The current tugged, pulling her deeper. Struggling, she fought, reaching for the light. Her life flashed by, and she screamed, as her world turned dark.

Today the master would win. The starter’s pistol fired and launched Jenny into the unknown.

________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

 

Wisdom of the Ages – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: Wisdom of the Ages
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about growing older
Word count:  99 words

It was the time of Antiquity.  The temple rose, constructed with care to mark a sacred spot. Tested by fire, its original purpose faded from consciences. Each day, the sun painted the walls in a soft luminous glow, recording the years, decades and millenniums. The Oculus recorded the words of countless stories and etched them on the dome’s geometric perfection.

Time evolved, morphing into something different. It became elastic and unimportant. Wisdom replaced foolish desires and meaningless acquisitions of petty trinkets. It distilled the truth, divulging the secret 0simplicity of being, seeing and feeling with no reservations, without judgment.

_________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Cowardly Cousin – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: The Cowardly Cousin
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt #105 – Denial
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 77 words.

sign on wall do not enter

Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash

The campaign was a success. Marius had defeated the crown’s enemy and annexed the disputed lands for the king.

His army marched toward home, eager to rejoin their families and return to more leisurely and peaceful pursuits. But the real war had not yet begun. They found their city occupied by Marius’s cousin, Atticus. He declared Marius a bastard and crowned himself lord of the Duchy.

“His denial of the truth will be his ruin,” Marius vowed.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Uncertain Future – 3 Line Tales

Photo by Philippe Mignot on Unsplash

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

During the season, invaders descended, renting homes for prices the natives could not afford, and which forced them to decide if they should stay or go.

The monstrous cruise ships carrying hordes of day-trippers, returned to the sea, leaving destruction in their wake.

The Venetians sighed, knowing for a few short hours their crumbling city, was still their home.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Tulipmania – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Tulipmania
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 120
Word count: 100 words

Image by Bikurgurl

As they walked through the garden, Henry felt his grandmother’s hand. She recounted a crazy story, a fantastic tale of Tulipmania and the “Madness of Crowds”. They imported the first bulbs from Turkey to Europe in the 1590s. The tulip became a status symbol. A single bulb cost more than a craftsman’s annual income. In February 1637 the market crashed.

He carried her history lesson with him, visiting the botanic gardens annually to see them in bloom. He shut his eyes, transported to his first tulip field and Grandmother’s voice. He hoped to pass the tradition on to his boys.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

 

Keeping Promises – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: Keeping Promises
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about sisu.
Word count:  99 words

Photo by Cassie Boca on Unsplash

Eino said caring for his invalid mother wouldn’t be easy, but his work took him abroad for months. The cabin had been her home since childhood. I didn’t imagine it would be this difficult. The closest neighbor lived miles away. We were alone.

Daytime was bearable. Aiti’s care and the daily chores kept me busy. I marked the calendar, counting days.

Then the storms descended. Howling winds crashed waves against the cliff, and spray pelted the windows. The house creaked, while my mind played games. The meager fire staved off ghosts while the clock counted the minutes until dawn.

_________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Adrift – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title: Adrift
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt #104 – Meander
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 47 words.

The silence is profound.

My breath and my heartbeat create a complex symphony where each movement reaffirms my existence.  I watch my umbilical cord meander through space, my life link, as I float alone in the blackness.

The blue orb below calls to me, beckoning me home.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Family Legacy – Thursday photo prompt

Title: Family Legacy
Source: Thursday photo prompt: Monochrome #writephoto

the image shows an ornately half-timbered house, bowed by the weight of centuries.

“You sure you want to do this?” Teddy asked.

“Teddy, we’re here. We signed the papers. It’s ours.”  Shelly ruffled his hair before giving his cheek a quick peck.

“They gave us these,” she said in a sing-song voice as she clanged a clump of skeleton keys and grinned.

“I’m just saying. It’s not too late. We can still sell it.”

“Don’t be silly. I can’t believe we found my family home. Besides, you bought the DNA test. If this doesn’t work,” Shelly paused and shrugged her shoulders, “then it’s your fault.” Shelly opened the car door and skipped to the front entrance.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Teddy muttered as he followed.

None of this felt right. He should never have purchased the kit. He didn’t understand her sudden passion for genealogy. It started when her dad died, and her family became her primary focus. They had driven across the country visiting her long-lost cousins and withered aunts and uncles. Most had been gracious and welcoming. Others were less than thrilled to meet her.

It didn’t matter to Shelly. To her, they were her new best friends. When she exhausted her mother’s Christmas card list, she dug deeper, spending hours researching her ancestry on family finder websites.

He bought the test to show his support. She said it would help her trace her lineage. What she found was an old Tudor-style mansion built by some great, great somebody who lived generations ago. The best part was it was empty and for sale. She fell in love with the thought of living in her ‘ancestral home’. It didn’t matter to her one bit that the house had been vacant for years, the roof needed replacing and there were major structural issues.

Shelly reappeared outside and called for him to hurry. He didn’t want to go in. He wanted to run in the opposite direction. Instead, he grabbed two bags, painted a smile on his face and forged ahead.

Inside the house was dark, and it smelled old. He suspected mold, but Shelly laughed and flung the creaky door wide.

“We just need to air it out,” she said waving at a window. “Why don’t you open it? We’ll get a nice cross breeze.”

Teddy rolled the suitcases to one side and set to work. It was stuck. He played and pushed and wiggled and the casement squeaked in protest. A man’s image stared back at him as he thrust his palm hard against the top of the frame. Startled, he heard a sickening crack. The old pane gave way under the pressure and his hand slipped past the glass. Searing pain radiated through his body. He screamed and his face contorted in agony.

“Damn, damn, damn.”

Teddy tried to remain still and pried his eyes open to assess the damage. Red rivulets streaked the broken piece embedded in his wrist and he used his fingers to dislodge the shard from the frame. He slowly extracted himself, holding the section steady, so he didn’t cause more suffering. In the background, Shelly was screaming.

He turned to study her as horror spread across her face. She stopped and dug her phone from her pocket. Behind her stood the man he had seen before the accident. She dialed 911, put it on speaker and stepped to his left side.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Teddy you don’t look good. How about if you sit?” Shelly grabbed his elbow and led him to a chair next to the wall. The line connected, and she gave the operator the details.

Teddy continued watching the stranger.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“We just bought the place,” Teddy tried to explain.

“Yes, hon we did. They’re sending help,” Shelly interrupted.

“I know who you are. You’re not welcome here. Your kind doesn’t belong,” he said moving closer.

Terror washed through him, as he realized he was talking to a ghost. The man resembled the house, a monochrome of gray, whose best days had past.

“You must go or suffer more dire consequences for violating the family truce.”

“What? What truce?” Teddy detected the slightest slur in his speech and wondered why the room was pitching.

“The agreement struck years ago, to keep the peace by keeping our families apart. I don’t want to kill you, but unless you leave, I will have no other choice.”

Teddy glanced at the glass protruding from his wrist then back at the man.

“You did this?”

“Consider it a warning.”

Sirens wailed in the distance and Shelly was still on the phone with someone. The room was growing dark. Odd for midday.

“They’re coming,” Teddy said.

Shelly’s face loomed in front of him, “I’m gonna let them in. Will you be ok for a minute?”

Teddy’s gaze focused on the ghost again. He was silent but nodded.

“Yeah. Just hurry.” Shelly patted his knee and disappeared.

“Don’t hurt her. I love her.”

“I would never harm her, she’s family.”

The paramedics rushed to his side. They started an IV and administer drugs for the pain. The man hovered as they worked and moved him to a stretcher.

“This will require several stitches, but it looks like you might have missed anything major,” one medic told him.

“Next time you wouldn’t be as lucky. I promise,” the man said as they wheeled him to the ambulance.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be back,” Teddy called to him.

Teddy and Shelly split not long after the accident. She kept the house and Teddy kept his word.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Schooled – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Miriam stood in the Scuola Grande Tedesca listening to the docent.

“De Scuola wasa founded ina fifteen a hundred and a tweeentee eighta,” she recited in a heavy Italian accent. “Prior toa fifteen a hundred and a seexateen, theya not permit Jews toa liva in Venezia.”

The Doge’s decree granted them living area in the “getto”, or foundries. Strict regulations were set. At night, they locked the gates of the “getto” and Christian guards, paid by the Jews, patrolled the canals to prevent them from escaping.

Viewing the elliptical “mechitzah” of the “Scuola”, Miriam wondered at everything her ancestors endured.

*** As a word nerd, I love learning a word’s etymology. Ghetto has an interesting history. To read more check the entry from The Dictionary of Jewish Usage: A Guide to the Use of Jewish Terms : page 50.

________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer