challenge

The Aftermath – Friday Fictioneers

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 47 Comments

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

demolished-purple-tent on driveway with grills

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Jan checked the canopy’s weights. Taylor was getting ice, and she needed to light the grills for the neighborhood barbeque

Taylor’s truck sped toward her, bouncing over the curb, he spilled from his seat before it stopped moving.

“Get inside,” he yelled. As he pointed to the sky, sirens screamed.

“Tornado.”

They raced ahead of the monstrous roar to huddled in the basement.

At the “All Clear” they emerged. The fickle funnel wrecked devastation on the opposite side of the street while their property remained unscathed.

“I’m going to help,” Taylor said.

“I’ll start the grills. They’ll need to eat.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Vagabond Shoes – 100 Word Wednesday

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 6 Comments

Title: Vagabond Shoes
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 126
Word count: 100 words

Image by Spencer Davis

Nina paced, flitting from the window to the deck. A massive cruise ship slid across the water and Nina sighed. Cannes was diverting, Marco was a fabulous host, and the season was ending.

“Time for a new beginning,” she said.

An hour later, her suitcase rolling behind her, as she checked her phone for directions to the audition. Seventeen days to Port Canaveral promised stops in Barcelona, Lisbon, Ponte something, and her next adventure.

In exchange for four hours of Vegas-style dancing in the Stardust Theater, they offered crew’s quarters and pocket change. Nina threw her hat into the ring.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Forgotten Songs – Weekend Writing Prompt

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 16 Comments

Title: Forgotten Songs
Source:  Weekend Writing Prompt #118 – Song
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 102 words.

Photo by Jenny Yang on Unsplash

Jing-sheng’s cane clicked on the cobbled street. Pausing he lifted his head, scrutinizing the cages hanging between the buildings like forgotten laundry.

It started in the mid-15th century. Privileged elite gathered in tea houses, gossiping, drinking tall tales, and discussing the intricacies of feeding, raising and training their pets.

When his grandfather died, Jing-sheng embraced his legacy and his flock. No one would call him elite. A simple working man, he carried his treasures to the park every morning.

Vanished from the wild, the devoted ones slipped away. The exotic song of birds became a memory that faded with the winter wind.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Discovering Secrets – Thursday Threads

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 8 Comments

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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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Solid Footing – 100 Word Wednesday

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 14 Comments

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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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Defying Desperation – Friday Fictioneers

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 33 Comments

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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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Red Hot Hope – 100 Word Wednesday

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 18 Comments

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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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Befriending the Boogeyman – #MenageMonday

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 6 Comments

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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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

A Real Rock Star – Flash Fiction Challenge

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 18 Comments

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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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer ©