Trick or Treat — 3 Line Tales

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

snakes-in-baskets

photo by Jordan Gellie via Unsplash

Nani and I spent the day baking, creating our baskets of tricks, making sure every detail was perfect.

When the doorbell rang we opened our baskets to reveal our bread snakes to the children.

When they screamed and ran away, we smiled at our clever Trick or Treat surprise.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

In Time of Need — FFfPP

Title:  In Time of Need
Source:  FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018 WEEK #38
Word count: 175 words

foggy-meadow-with-fence-and-ghostly-trees

14946675160vn34 AugustMorgue File

It was a recurring dream, a nightmare really. She walked through fog barely able to see, her next steps uncertain and precarious. Searching.  Pursuing and pursued. The dark specter, a constant force, pushing her forward, denying her rest, threatening to overtake her. And then she screamed.

This time she did not wake. The dream was real. Her heart pounded, echoed in her ears, drowned rational thought. Her stomach tightened, choked her throat, cut off her air supply. She gasped and lurched forward, not ready to die. Salvation lay hidden in the fog.

Running now, adrenaline coursing through her body pushing her past her limits, and beyond the edge. Her next step did not hit the ground, she tumbled, falling, reaching, grasping nothing. A hand caught her, suspended in time, she searched the hooded face and saw only darkness.

“I can grant more than Salvation.”

The words filled her head, and she closed her eyes.

“Where is Salvation in your time of need?”

Despair consumed her.

“You only need to say the word.”

She nodded.

“Yes.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

B&B Breakfast — Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Priorhouse

“Bacon, woman! I want bacon.”

“The sign said, ‘Canadian Bacon’, dear.”

He stabbed his fork into the meat disc and lifted it into the air. Grease and meat juices sprayed across the table as he shook the fork at her.

“Does this look like bacon?” His face turned red as he spoke, and the woman shrank in her seat.

“It said…”

“I know ‘Canadian Bacon’. They advertised American Breakfast. I expect American bacon.”

“I’d expect you’d have better luck in America than in Yorkshire, sir,” the waitress said as she plucked the fork from his hand and exited the room.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Almost Friends — 100WW

Title:  Almost Friends
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 90
Word count: 100 words

I saw the big brute and froze. Too late, big red ears flapped, slapping his jowls as he lumbered toward me, stopping a few feet away.

My heart was a jackhammer trying to crack a concrete chest. He heard it, advanced, then collapsed, his pointy, sniffing nose buried in fallen leaves. Eye to eye we stared. Stalemate.

My nose betrayed me, twitching twice. His eyebrow leaped skyward, his ears followed, he lunged, and a long, pink tongue licked my head leaving a slobbery streak between my ears.

The spell broken, I jackrabbited through the leaves. He barked but didn’t follow.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

 

Tap and Stitch — FFfAW Challenge

Title: Tap and Stitch
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count: 175 words

walls-of-mismatched-shoes-sandals-on-peg-board

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr. Thank you Yarnspinnerr!

“Are they asleep yet?” Tap whispered from the inky shadows of the rain barrel.

“The light is out, but we should wait, make sure they’re fast asleep.”

“Stitch, you’re too cautious. They’ll never hear us.”

“Shh. You mean they’ll never hear me.”

Tap scooped up a pebble and lobbed it in Stitch’s direction. The stone skidded to a stop inches from his feet. Even in the darkness Tap saw the smile spreading across his face. She loved Stitch and his sense of humor. They had been together forever, on a joyous adventure. She smiled, remembering while they waited.

“Tap, come on,” Stitch hissed as he walked through the brick wall. Tap snapped back to reality and followed.

Inside the workshop Tap and Stitch stared at the pile of shoe leather.

“Ooh,” Tap rubbed her hands over the leather before jumping into the center of the pile.

Stitch giggled and landed in the pile next to her.

“Ready to make shoes?” Stitch asked.

Tap rubbed the supple leather against her cheek and nodded.

“Ready,” she said.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Alive

girl-dancing-in-fall-leaves

Photo by bruce mars on Unsplash

This is me today, and it feels good to be alive. It is the revolution they call the beginning of the end, the time of dying and death.

But I see possibilities. The crisp fall air lifts my spirits, releases me from the oppression and isolation of the summer heat. I snuggle into the wool scarf that encircles me, comforts me, keeps my heart warm.

Nature’s colors explode, and my soul expands reaching to share the splendor with those who wish to see.

Leaves crunch beneath my feet creating the song of exaltation, honoring what has come before, elevating now, recognizing future’s potential.  It proclaims, right here, right now, it feels good to be alive.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Delusional Distraction — 3 Line Tales

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

1950s-style-TV

photo by Sven Scheuermeier via Unsplash

Come one, come all, gather your family and prepare to be amazed by the newest invention.

Forget your fears and the fallout shelters, the emanate risk of nuclear destruction, and Sputnik the spy.

It is Sunday night, and it is a Wonderful World.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Angler — 100 Word Wednesday

Title: The Angler
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 89
Word count: 100 words

coral-reef-aquarium

Image by Bikurgurl

Fisk’s head protruded from his hiding spot. Nothing caught his attention, so he ducked back inside, but he kept a watchful eye looking outward. He wiggled and shifted in the tight confines. He spent most of his time waiting, waiting and watching. Fisk blinked, opened his mouth wide and snapped it closed. A flash of yellow caught his attention, a damselfish, just out of striking distance. His nose detected a familiar scent, a crab was scuttling his way. He waited until the right moment, then lunged, clamping his powerful jaws around his victim. Crab was the Fisk Moray’s favorite meal.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Dale’s Diner — Friday Fictioneers

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

umbrellas-in-rafters

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The hurricane was brutal. It swept through town leaving destruction in its wake. The roof was ripped from Dale’s Diner, but the structure remained intact. Dale was a veteran hurricane ridder and had learned his lessons. His restaurant equipment was portable, and Dale had trucked it inland with the generators ahead of the storm. His seasoned crew trickled in when the storm passed. They bailed water, disinfected and unloaded equipment and food when the trucks returned. Within hours, Dale’s Diner was up and running. Getting hot food to the town’s people and relief workers was the key to their recovery.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Honey — FFfPP Week 38

Title:  Honey
Source:  FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER
Word count: 190 words

Setter-dog-running-through-water-honey-colored

MorgueFileJune2018 1418535473h5g6w

Honey showed up on the farm one warm spring morning. She was thin, her fur matted and dotted with cockleburs. Honey was shy but friendly enough. After a good meal, she allowed me to comb her and gently remove the burs. I called her Honey because of the color of her coat, but the name accurately described her personality. Honey proved to be a good hunter, she would disappear and return with prize captures of pigeons, mice, and other varmints. I exchanged her quarry for a meal, a bath, and quiet companionship.

All summer I watched after her, knowing she was more than capable of taking care of herself but happy when Honey came to visit me. Summer faded to fall, and I received news Rob suffered injuries in the war. Each day I waited, and Honey waited with me. The days crept, and my worry grew. How badly was he hurt, and did he have someone caring for him? The day came, and Rob arrived. His wounds were deep, but they would mend. I heard Honey moved on to Johnson’s farm where Rachel waited for news of her husband.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer