challenge

Carol of the Bells — Weekly Writing Challenge

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Title: Carol of the Bells
Source:  Weekly Writing Challenge #167
The five words: VOICE, BELL, PRACTICE, SERVE, CLUE
Word count: 217 words

The cacophony of voices ascended to the church’s vaulted ceiling, swirling into the gilded dome, reaching toward heaven then echoed back to earth. With a sharp “click, click, click”, the director tapped his baton on the black metal music stand. A hush descended. The silence lay thick on the marble floor, muffling small movements as the group took their assigned places.

The director surveyed the group, assessed their readiness, commanded their attention and smiled. He lifted the baton, and everyone inhaled in anticipation. On the first beat, they sang with one voice, a singing bell supported the ostinato and angels reflected perfection to the mortals below.

The director led them through practice twice more before he was satisfied.

 ***

Sister Bernadette was called to serve long ago when she was a young girl. Today’s mass was special for her, it marked the anniversary of her ordination. She watched the director raise the baton, the music swelled, and she closed her eyes. Sister Bernadette felt her soul soar with the music when she opened her eyes she gazed upon the face of an angel.

“Please,” the word was barely audible harmonizing with the bells. “May I have a hint? One tiny clue?”

The angel shook his head causing the pealing of tiny bells.

“The answer lies in your heart.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

School Day Dreams — FFfAW Challenge

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Title: School Day Dreams
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count: 170 words

construction-site

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

The entirety of his life led him to today. The first day of construction left Tony wondering if it was still a dream.

He remembered sitting in the drafty, dark boxes they called classrooms at Central School. Built in 1916, the building needed more than updates. The dark gymnasium doubled as the school cafeteria. It oozed an odd combination of teenage sweat, warmed mystery meat, and spinach. Eight years there drove him to study architecture and how students learned.

Tony’s vision was a 126,000-square-foot, state-of-the-art complex that would accommodate students from pre-kindergarten programs through eighth grade. He envisioned a bright and airy building. His design integrated solar panels into the architecture to provide electrical power and a passive heat exchanger to provide indoor thermal comfort while minimizing or eliminating energy consumption.

It took fourteen months to raise the money and get approvals. Now, the $31.3 million building of his was almost a reality. He projected eighteen months of construction and the new school would open in time for fall classes.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Barre Work — Weekly Writing Challenge

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Title: Barre Work
Source:  Weekly Writing Challenge #166
The five words: POSE, FLOW, ORDER, BLEND, REHEARSE
Word count: 372 words

graffiti-ballerinas-painted-on-a-wall
Photo by Renee Fisher on Unsplash

“Ladies, ladies. Your places at the barre if you please.”

Madame de Valois clapped her hands and ten pink tutus bounced and flounced as the ladies scurried to the barre.

“Today we will work on each pose. I think some of you have forgotten the basics. So, we will drill.”

At the barre, eyes rolled and at least two ladies hung their heads and a few giggled. Vera was the exception. She stood straight, heels together, feet turned out and her arms correctly positioned in first.

Madame de Valois moved along the barre, addressing each one lifting a chin here, straightening a shoulder alignment there and adjusting everyone’s turn out. When she reached Vera, she made no adjustments, only stared at her for a long moment before moving on.

“Now, we will flow into second…” Madame moved her feet and extended her arms as she sang her words to the class. She led the class through each position in order, repeating the positions, reiterating the correct postures as she moved to each lady at the barre.

“You must strive to blend one movement into the next,” Madame demonstrated as she spoke, and the ladies mimicked her. She instructed them in their drills for almost an hour before she allowed them to break.

“Okay ladies, rehearsal, tomorrow, nine am sharp. Do not be late,” Madame clapped her hands as she enunciated each word. Her ladies squealed with delight in being released and some groaned at the thought of tomorrow’s rehearsal. Pink tutus jostled and flapped, and pink leotards shuffled pink ballet slippers toward the door.

“Remind your parents,” Madame called after them. “Nine am.”

At the door, Vera paused, turned and rushed back to Madame to fling her arms around Madame’s slim waist.

“I love ballet, Madame de Valois,” Vera said as she crushed Madame, squeezing her so it nearly took Madame’s breath away.

Madame de Valois petted Vera’s blond curls that had escaped from her tight bun and gave her a small hug before Vera turned and skipped out the door. Alone in the mirrored room, Madame brushed the sudden dampness from her eyes. Without thinking, she took three running steps performed a Grand Jete en Tournant and stepped from the studio.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Sale Bin Freedom — FFfAW Challenge

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Title: Sale Bin Freedom
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count: 170 words

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

Ellenore rolled the plastic squeeze bottle of paint until the label with the color name faced her. “Ultramarine Acrylic” she read before dropping it into the plastic store basket she held in the crook of her arm. She selected only the Primary colors, Ultramarine Blue, Cadmium Yellow Deep, and Alizarin Crimson. Satisfied she had picked them all out of the sale bin, Ellenore made her way to the checkout.

“Oh, Miss Ellenore,” the brunette clerk greeted her. “I have something for you.” From under the counter, she pulled a large heavy bag and hefted it onto the counter.

“These are all for you. Free. No, no,” the clerk raised her hand to silence Ellenore’s protest. “My manager said you’d be doing us a favor. They’re class leftovers. Not all of them are full, but they’re open, and we can’t sell them. Please? Say you can use them?”

Everyone in town knew her secret. They were happy she was free of him and they knew her art would let her soar.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Spring Thaw — Thursday photo prompt

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Title: Spring Thaw
Source:  Thursday photo prompt: Calm #writephoto
Word count:  430 words

Tree-creek-water-spring-thaw

Tex curled the left side of his lip and made a clicking noise. He squeezed his right knee into Red’s side directing him to turn left.  The snow had melted, and the melt seeped into the ground causing the crick to overrun its banks. Everywhere Red stepped was a mire of mud and muck. In places, Red sank deep into the mud, water rose to his knees and threatened to submerge Tex’s stirrups. Red stepped high, moving deliberately without panic. Tex had felt hesitation in Red’s steps as they slogged forward and knew they’d best turn back. They gained nothing by going further.

The grass was growing, his cattle were hungry, and the feed was running low. Still, he couldn’t turn cattle into this field. Cows might be fine, but many had calved, and a calf wouldn’t survive in this water-sodden land. If they survived the birthing, the calves would succumb to the persistent wet and cold. Cows weren’t God’s brightest creatures so Tex would spend his time keeping them safe.

Red’s hooves sucked and plopped as he moved through the field to higher ground. Tex rubbed his hand across his face, adjusted his hat, then patted Red’s neck.

“What are we gonna do ole boy?” Tex asked. Red tossed his head and snorted. It made Tex laugh.

“You’re always practical Red. Home it is.”

Tex considered his options. There weren’t many. The hay would last another day, two at most. He could supplement corn, but the cows would eat it quickly, and leave him without seed to plant. If he gave the cattle corn, it would mean purchasing more corn to plant his fields. He had less money than hay.

The cattle had grazed their current pasture into submission and the land needed time to regenerate. The last option was purchasing hay and hoping the snow melt dried up soon. Money, again. Tex figured numbers, thought about his money shortage and worried, as Red took them home.

The sun hung low when they approached the barn and Tex figured he had run short of ideas. A meal, a good night’s sleep, and the morning might look less bleak.

Tex woke before dawn to begin his morning chores. As he worked, a plan took shape. He saddled Red. They needed to check the herd, count calves and then head into town. It wasn’t a plan he liked, hell he hated the idea, but it might see him through spring.

Hat in hand, he approached old man McGregor and asked him if he wanted to purchase a hundred head of cattle.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Glorious View — Three Line Tales

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

train-on-bridge-in-valley

photo by Jack Anstey via Unsplash

The lonesome whistle boomed across the valley, shook my cell and bore into my soul.

I marked the journeys to and fro, carrying countless passenger to their destinations, to dreamlike places where I could not go.

I imagined travelers viewing my castle’s beautiful tower from afar, wishing they were me and never realizing my dearest wish was to be on the train seated next to them.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Time Capsule — 100 Word Wednesday

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Title: Time Capsule
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 96
Word count: 100 words

Eiffel-tower-at-night

Photo by Paul Gaudriault

Life changed after Grandmama died. Papa, a quiet man, retreated further while I mourned. He signed Grandmama’s death certificate and handed me the apartment keys. I wouldn’t live there long.

I was twenty, and I knew Grandmama’s lessons on survival. The apartment, the jewels, the Boldini painting, they bore testament to a woman’s ability to live well.

Soldiers were marching into the city when I fled. I wouldn’t speak of those years again, although I thought of them daily. I kept the apartment and the secrets it held while the memories lived in my heart and the child I carried.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

 

Altered Potential — Friday Fictioneers

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 52 Comments

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

PHOTO PROMPT © J.S. Brand

Takoda drove his truck on the wide ribbon of black asphalted four-lane highway. Power lines echoed the roads curves, slashing black streaks across the brilliant blue sky.

He wondered at the trees planted beneath power lines. He cried at the misshapen forms they adapted to grow in a world where men prevented them from reaching their true potential.  He didn’t understand the lack of logic.

They planted trees knowing they would grow, knowing their branches would  intertwine with the lines and require cutting. Five feet of distance and trees and power lines could coexist. It would have changed the world.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Deluge — Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge

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Title: Deluge
Source: Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge
The Prompt: Use these 3 words (gray, wind, echoes) to spark your imagination.  BUT you CANNOT USE these 3 words.

Photo by Caitlyn Noble on Unsplash

The storm blew across the lake, chasing clouds, whipping waves and dancing between the slashing lightning and pelting raindrops. The waves crashed into the rocks spewing geysers of water high into the frigid air.

Aela stood at the precipice, the future balance on the blade of her ax. A modern-day warrior she stood guard, prepared for battle. Unsure of the way forward she was unable to turn back. The scream smashed against the water wall reverberating in her ears as it shattered into frozen shards that slammed her body and slashed her soul.

The storm abated, and she knew what she must do.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Spirit Journey — Thursday photo prompt

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 16 Comments

Title: Spirit Journey
Source:  Thursday photo prompt: Stark #writephoto
Word count: 210 words

The sudden wind tugged my braid, forcing me to look across the mesa. Where had I been that I did not notice the darkening sky, the gathering clouds or the falling rain in the distance?

My thoughts swirled in my heart like a Chiindii trapped in a box canyon. I lifted and examined each tiny pebble, hoping to discover an answer engraved in the stone. There were no secrets hidden there.

The rain approached, and I wrestled with my demons, determined to banish bad thoughts and bad words from my mind. The wise ones said I must respect the rain, or the sacred forces would punish me. Perhaps my punishment had already begun. The sacred forces drove me from my clan and married my love to another. They left me with nothing.

I faced the coming storm, arms spread wide to meet the assault. A scream erupted from my spirit, shattering the silence. Lightning flashed and thundered rolled across the land, knocking me deep into the abyss. Mother Earth folded her arms around me while a gentle rain washed away the pain. When I opened my eyes, my heart pounded with the beat of a thousand drums and I knew I was no longer doomed to walk this world alone.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer