An Everyday Hero – Friday Fictioneers

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

empty diner plate


Earl pushed the paper cap askew and wiped sweat from his forehead. The tiny kitchen was warmer than Hades.

As a kid, he dreamed of saving the world. He ran with his red cape streaming behind him. Flying in the sky, he shot lasers from his eyes and righted every wrong. He remembered the moment a disbeliever’s careless shoe squashed his purpose. Disillusioned, he became a hash-slinger, cooking meals for hungry customers regardless of their ability to pay.

A grimy hand returned an empty plate. “You saved my life, Earl.”

Sad eyes brimmed with unshed tears. It was payment enough.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

A Room with A View – Thursday Threads

Photo by Francesca Tosolini on Unsplash   Yellow leather couch
Photo by Francesca Tosolini on Unsplash

Denise tried not to draw unwanted attention as she shifted her weight. The creak of the uncomfortable yellow leather couch betrayed her. Robert glared at her as she ignored him by examining her impeccable teal manicure, a perfect match to her turquoise and silver jewelry. She didn’t need to see him. She felt his annoyance. Robert’s voice continued, a dull buzz in the therapist’s office that reminded her of the irritating hum of a fluorescent light fixture.

The therapist must have hired a designer to furnish the spacious suite. Soothing grays, calming blues, and fashionable mid-century modern furniture made the space look homey and relaxing. The trouble, or maybe the desired effect was, looks were deceiving. The doctor occupied the Eames lounge chair with its matching ottoman. It was undoubtedly, an original and probably the most comfortable piece in the room.

The droning ended, and Denise realized someone had addressed her. Kind brown eyes regarded her, waiting.

“Do you have a response?”

She shrugged before looking at her hands.

“Surely, you have something to say.”

It was difficult to ignore eyes that seemed to care.

“He never asked the one question that would have guaranteed success.”

Denise waited, ready for Robert’s normal tirade, but the therapist’s raised hand stopped him.

“What question?”

“What’s in it for me?”

Robert attacked, throwing facts, statistics, logic, and rhetoric at her. His repetition offered nothing new, nothing she hadn’t heard a thousand times before.

“You’re not listening. Those things don’t matter. They never have.”


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Limited Foresight – Thursday Threads

person holding ball lamp

Photo by Daniel Gaffey on Unsplash

“I’m not gonna lie. This isn’t for everyone. In fact, I try to keep it a secret. My darkest secret. Can you imagine if this went viral? There would be lines. Hordes of people. The unwashed masses clamoring to join my procession. Let’s not mention the capitalists, the greedy sycophants, and the low-life scum whose sole purpose in life is making a quick buck. Whatever happened to hard work? Sacrifice?”

He paused in his diatribe, to push his face uncomfortably close to mine, and stare. I didn’t flinch. “What’s in it for me?”


There was no hesitation. It was almost as if he expected my question. I felt the tension, as the left side of his mouth twisted into a smirk.

“I promise. You’ll stay beautiful forever.”

His grin disappeared, his eyes narrowed, and I swear he winked at me before he stepped to the table covered with an odd assortment of paraphernalia.

“You assume that is important to me.”

“Isn’t it?”

When he turned, the lopsided sneer had returned, and an enormous glass ball glistened in his hands.

“My dear, what you don’t understand is my visions become reality.  Oh, I suppose I could dwell on the whole ‘peace on earth’ Miss America sentiment, but that would be boring. Nobody enjoys boring, do they? No. Not when the ugly truth is so much more interesting.”

He rolled the orb, spinning, and playing with it, before he lifted it, holding it at eye level.

“Do you want to see?”


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

La Dolce Vita – Friday Fictioneers

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

neon lit fountain in a square at dusk

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

Reality’s wispy figments hung beyond her grasp. Days begun at four in the afternoon kept her translucent skin safe from the sun’s ravaging rays. Neon demons, crowded clubs, and illicit pharmaceuticals eased her into sensational poses. The paparazzi clamored for more.

Fellini scenes, gray-scale backdrops to life, encouraged Sylvia, sweet Sylvia’s whispers. Begging for peace, she scoured each avenue for escape from her manic world.  Exhausted, detached, bordering on sociopathic but yearning for connection, she ended each dawn at the fountain in search of the answer. Hidden from the world for so long, she had forgotten where her soul drowned.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Kaidan – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: Kaidan
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about 100 candles.
Word count:  99 words

lit candle in foreground with blurred candles in the distance

Photo by Tim Umphreys on Unsplash

Twilight fell as storytellers crowded into the room. Ryu finished lighting one hundred candles. They gathered to repeat their favorite accounts of weird happenings, walking sprits, and vengeful ghosts.

They told tales of a man’s escaped from hell, monsters roaming misty woods, and bridges conveying the dead into eternity.

At each tale’s conclusion, the storyteller rose and extinguished the life of a single torch. The night progressed, the chamber grew darker, and shadows haunted foreboding corners.

Ryu earned the honor of the evening’s final story. With his last breath, he blew. His candle smoldered, and everything descended into darkness.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Channeling Prometheus – Weekend Writing Prompt

Title:  Channeling Prometheus
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt # 158 – Downpour
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 88 words.

black and white photo of clouds above mountain thunderhead

Photo by Martin Vysoudil on Unsplash

Threats sometimes backfire.

You’d expect me to hide from a formidable opponent, but my soul is hard-wired for defiance and committed to protecting those who cannot defend themselves. Black cumulonimbus clouds rise forty thousand feet in the air to provide Cyclops with his anvil. His forge is the birthplace of lightning, tornados, and hailstorms.

Plunged into darkness, frightened souls huddle. Sobbing like small children, they pray and beg for forgiveness. Despite deafening thunder, eye-searing lightning, and a pounding heart, I step into the downpour with my fiery purpose.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer


Rock ‘N Roll Band – Friday Fictioneers

Title: Rock ‘N Roll Band
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

makeshift stage with band at a festival with tents


“I’m not a fan.”

My smitten boyfriend never heard a word.

“You’re gonna love ’em,” Ken insisted before launching into the reasons this band was on a collision course with destiny.

I caved, and let Ken drag me to the sold-out show. His date night extravaganza included backstage passes and an exclusive meeting with the lead singer.

That’s when it happened. Our eye locked, he rocked my world and brought me to my knees. The rest is history. I’m his muse, he’s my man.

This VIP no longer needs a backstage pass.

Still, I sometimes wonder whatever happened to Ken.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Dark Encounter – Flash Fiction Challenge

Title: Dark Encounter
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story that answers the question, “What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you are in absolute danger?”
Word count:  99 words

selective focus photography of fox

Photo by Geran de Klerk on Unsplash

I stayed too late. Perils line the path home, and no guiding lights pierce the darkness to keep dangers at bay.

A rustling bush. I freeze. Frozen. Heightened awareness, my senses alerted to keep me alive.

Muscles tense, heart pounds, breath held, pupils dilate. My mouth fills with cotton balls.

Grasses sway without a breeze, an inky silhouette and steely eyes regard me. Somehow, they seem as surprised as I.

Flight or fight. Fight or Flight.

Sinews prepare for action as we stare, access, evaluate.

Golden orbs wink, I inhale and dip my chin.

Tonight, we go separate ways.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

24/7 Girl – Friday Fictioneers

Title: 24/7 Girl
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

colorful hats on a rack

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

My schedule promised a marathon. Starting strong, my trainer pushed my outer limits. The nutritionist questioned the candy bar breakfast I inhaled while consulting the laundry service and the hack who called herself a housekeeper.

The stylist sneered at my messy ponytail, baggy tee-shirt, and leggings. “You can do better,” she said as I rushed to rouse groggy children. The crisis negotiator morphed into the childcare specialist, reminding me of the lessons with the student-teacher.

Meetings with the CFO, meal planner, and the head chef completed my morning. Exhausted, I wondered how many hats quarantine would force me to wear.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer