story

Shadow World – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

It was the Homecoming bash at Chi Sigma Kappa.  Judeth and her besties arrived at eleven, fashionably late. They drank, they danced and then they disappeared. Everyone, except Judeth. The ancient grandfather clock chimed midnight. Her vision blurred, and her world changed.

Today she would wander the empty campus, searching for the truth. She could hear them, echoes of her final day.  At eleven she and her girls would arrive at Chi Sigma Kappa for the seventh time. Reliving the fateful hour Judeth waited for the reset. Abandoned in the shadow world again, she hunted, prepared to kill her killer.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Rat Race – 3 Line Tales

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

photo by Ahmed Odeh via Unsplash

Life runs at a frantic pace, constant demands keep us busy, busy, busy.

Perpetual motion, no time to think, only act, react, rinse and repeat.

Exhausted, all reserves spent, time expires as we collapse, with no goals met.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Blue Days – Stock Photo Challenge

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Title: Blue Days
Source:  Stock Photo Challenge
Word count: 100 words

Hesiod played melancholy songs.

The crowd favorite featured a young musician in love. Professing his love, he swore he would do anything to please her. He begged for her hand, and she agreed. Children soon completed their life.

The wife worried. A performer couldn’t support a growing family. Honoring his vows he took a job suitable for a responsible father. The work broke his spirit and left a pale imitation of the man he once was.

Years passed, and she didn’t recognize him. He was no longer the carefree soul she married.

Separated, lost, the old musician played melancholy songs.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

On the Menu – Thursday Threads

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snowballs coconut cakes

Photo credit: hddod on Visual Hunt / CC BY-NC-ND

“They are so sweet,” Mira cooed as she bent over the makeshift hydroponic tray and reached to pet the furballs.

“Don’t touch them,” Dexter yelled, slapping her hand away.

“Ow. What the—? Why not? They want to snuggle,” she snapped at Dexter as she rubbed the red mark on her wrist.

“They bite.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she leaned toward them again.

“I have the scars to prove it,” Dexter said as he watched Mira lean closer.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And don’t expect me to stitch you back together.”

Mira glanced at him and smiled.

“They wouldn’t harm me, would you, my precious babies?” As Mira spoke her voice took on the sing-song quality mothers use when they speak to infants.

“Did the big, bad human hurt my little darlings?”

Dexter stood mouth agape as the furballs nuzzled Mira and made a noise he had never heard before.

“Yes, tell Mama how he stole you from me,” she said stroking them.

“Wait, a minute here. I stole nothing. They were being ejected into space with the garbage. I saved them. I’ve done nothing since I found them but try to take care of them and find their mother. They have bitten and scratched me for my trouble.  Not to mention the shots and stitches. And now you accuse me of stealing?”

“Humans are a strange species. Why would you save them when most creatures consider our babies tasty treats?”

“I guess we’re gluttons for punishment,” Dexter sighed.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Fair Warning – Friday Fictioneers

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 49 Comments

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

I hate late night dog walks. The mutt insists I honor my responsibility. The mongrel’s insistence on sniffing every blade of grass to prolong our walk is directly proportional to my longing to be tucked in bed.

Tonight is no exception. Maybe I’m cranky, but the nightly tug of war is excessive. I glance at the cur who is trying to pull me in the opposite direction from home.  I jerk the leash, and the dog turns, tail between its legs, snarling, it backpedals.

I yank the leash again. A hand covers my mouth and I wish I had listened.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Blogging from A to Z Challenge — Letter C

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atoz2019c.

Today’s Positive Adjective:
Convivial: relating to, occupied with, or fond of feasting, drinking, and good company

Growing up, I anticipated one day more than any other. More than Christmas or even my birthday. When spring broke winter’s frigid grip, school recessed, and we packed the car, headed to Aunt Opal’s farm.

April was a busy time, and we “city folks” as my cousins called us were the hired help, nobody could afford to hire. Despite my cousin’s insistence, our tiny town didn’t compare to St. Louis or Chicago. Still, it was larger than the town nearest the homestead. Aunt Opal’s farmhouse hustled and bustled more our “city” house ever did.

Her kitchen whirled with activity, the convivial epicenter of farm folk for miles. While daily events varied wildly, everyone who entered her domain received a loving embrace. It didn’t matter if it had been five minutes or five weeks. The greeting never changed, nor the question which followed.

“You hungry, dear?” she would ask, and proceed with your choices. A slice of strawberry-rhubarb cobbler? A hunk of warm bread right from the oven? Well, a glass of lemonade then? Once your belly was full, she put you to work. Except it didn’t seem like work. Not when she was recounting the latest Taylor twin’s antics. Or how she found her best, laying chicken cuddled in the hayloft with the cat, three days running, despite locking the hen in the coop.

No, I couldn’t wait. The two-and-a-half-hour trip took much longer. I suspected Daddy drove slowly, to torment me. Wedged between my brothers in the back seat I willed the car to go faster. I dared to ask my question once again.

“Daddy, are we there yet?”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Initiation – #MenageMonday

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Title: Initiation
Source:  #MenageMonday! Challenge Week 2×27
Word count: 250 words

Source: Dreamstime

It took me two years to convince Sammi to hire a runner for the boneyard. When she broke, she made it clear. The kid was my responsibility.

The teenager was eager, and he took his job title to heart. I chucked when I saw him sprinting towards me. He stopped a few feet away, resting his palms on his thighs as he sucked air.

“You okay, kid?” I asked.

He looked at me and raised his right index finger. I tapped my foot and waited.

“I’m fine,” he panted sliding his hands to his waist as he straightened.

“Sammi sent a message?” I prodded, eager to hear her latest edict.

“Hey, she said this was the plane that started it all,” he motioned to the shell in front of us.

“She said a bomb went off, killed everyone on board, and it crash-landed here.”

I laughed, and he looked confused.

“Sorry kid, we make it look that way. Some movie people paid to shoot footage. The rest we cannibalized for parts.”

“Oh, I see, and like a fool, I believed her,” the kid said.

“Gotta take Sammi with a grain of salt. She’s a jokester.”

The kid shook his head.

“She also said the lost keys are no excuse.  We have to get it started.”

I purposefully looked at the plane, before turning to face him again. I could hear the gears working in his head. He wasn’t stupid.

“Let me guess? Never any keys?”

“Happy April Fool’s Day, kid.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Shattering Illusions – Flash Fiction Challenge

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Title: Shattering Illusions
Source:  Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story that uses the word eminence.
Word count:  99 words

Jules was his father’s second son. He was deemed the spare heir to the kingdom. Always second best, he fought to win favor, to stand free from his brother’s shadow. Each passing year, the competition between them grew.

Their rivalry forced his vision higher, to the eminence of Mont Aiguille. He imagined looking down onto his brother’s domain. Determined, he focused on his goal, fought through doubts and fear until his kingdom became a reality.

He grew stronger than the mountain, hardening his heart he stood alone, freed from the shadows, he realized there had been nothing to prove.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Blogging from A to Z Challenge — Letter A

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 15 Comments

atoz2019a.

Today’s Positive Adjective:
Assiduous: showing great care, attention, and effort

 

Addie loved the treasures Papa made in his tiny, crowded workshop. She spent hours perched on a stool as he meticulosity molded, and hammered, creating the perfect receptacle for the simmering stones.

Forbidden from entering the studio when he wasn’t there, she couldn’t force herself to obey. Late at night, Addie would slip from her bed. and tiptoe downstairs. In the pale light, she would caress Papa’s tools, examining the details of whatever project lay on his bench.

One morning Papa announced that Jules, Addie’s older brother, would no longer attend school. Instead, Jules was to apprentice with Papa. Jules groaned, and Addie silently wished she was so lucky.

For months Jules reluctantly followed Papa to the workshop each dawn and bolted from his hell the moment Papa released him for the day. Addie’s clandestine visits continued, and she grew bolder. She held Papa’s tools, manipulating them as he did, while she imagined herself performing the tasks he assigned to Jules. By day, she watched Jules’ beefy hands ruin costly materials and his stubborn attitude soured Papa’s patience.

One spring afternoon, Papa let out a beastly roar and banished Jules from the shop. Jules ran, almost skipping in delight. Not long after, Papa emerged, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed shutting the door behind him. Addie waited, but all was quiet. Unable to resist she entered and surveyed Jules’ destruction. Without thinking, she selected a tool and started the repair.

It was a day she would never forget. The day everything changed, and a new path opened to her. She fingered the pendant at her neck, her first creation, but not her last. Her days found her next to Papa, assisting him, collaborating with him. With assiduous use of the precious materials, Addie worked, crafting masterpieces fit for a king.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Restoration Project – Weekend Writing Prompt

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Title: Restoration Project
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt #99 – Anathema
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 52 words.

Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash

Birdie hadn’t visited the homestead in years. Her memory held visions of lush fields and untamed forests teaming with life. The intervening years were unkind, as others used the site for a dumping ground.

She deemed the land’s destruction an anathema, vowing she would not rest until she saw nature’s splendor restored.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer