From Sonya’s 3LineTales at Only100Words.
You can find the original prompt here. Thank you, Sonya.
photo by Nathan Wright via Unsplash
She is a shadow of what she used to be, the traces of her grandeur echo in the shifting light.
Music plays, we dance and sing, die and weep.
Bound to her, I drift in the shadows, longing for the past
______________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Chevy
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER
Word count: 180 words
MorgueFile May 2018 1413924415vgvbk
This summer we lost the red Chevy pickup in a sea of weeds. Bob asked if I remembered seeing it. I pointed to a patch of six-foot-high water hemp and redroot pigweed. Dotted here and there was Queen Anne’s Lace, milkweed, and thistle. As the weeds swayed in the breeze, you could glimpse the top of the cab.
“Hm, someone needs to see about that,” Bob said before he turned and headed to the barn. A couple hours later, Bob had dispatched the weeds, and the Chevy stood proudly on the rough-cut field.
“The Chevy looks lonely out in the field all by its lonesome,” I said to Bob as we sipped our morning coffee in the kitchen.
“I suppose someone should do something about that,” Bob said before draining his coffee cup. He set the cup in the sink, gave me a peck on the cheek and headed to work.
Later, I paused my work and saw the Chevy had new friends. Piled on the truck’s bed, in the cab, and the ground were hundreds of pumpkins. I laughed.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Escape Plan
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
Gerard paused before opening the door. Tired from a long day’s work, he could hear his family screeching and shrieking behind the door. He squared his shoulders and entered.
After dinner, he escaped and snuck into his shed. Gerard spent peaceful hours designing, sawing, carving and assembling his wooden creations. He often fell asleep at his bench and his wife would wake him to come to bed.
“You should spend time with the family,” she would say. Gerard would shrug, he knew she wouldn’t understand.
When he died, they discovered ornately designed and carved mechanical clocks hidden in the rafters.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Treasure Hunt
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 88
Word count: 100 words
Image by Bikurgurl
“Are they’re watching us?” Meghan asked, “Is it even there?”
“You read the clue,” Harvey said. “See her? No one will suspect her.” Harvey nodded at the old woman walking towards them.
“No, please? I hate taking over old people’s bodies,” Meghan shivered as she spoke.
Meghan guided the woman’s body to the bookstand and rummaged in the back, right corner. She felt a thin, round stick and secreted it into the fold of a magazine she made the woman purchase. As Meghan walked past Harvey’s hiding spot, the wand slipped to the ground and rolled into his waiting hands.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Gone
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count: 165 words
This week’s photo prompt is provided by wildverbs. Thank you wildverbs!
It was cold outside, and the Jeep’s heater didn’t work. Condensation formed on the window while I waited. I rubbed my hands together, leaned over and blew. My breath warmed them for an instant. With my right hand, I smeared the foggy window. I needed to watch the street, needed proof she wasn’t there.
I tucked my hands under my armpits and hunched over the steering wheel. My mind played tricks on me and I heard her call my name. She wasn’t there. I couldn’t admit the truth. Not yet. I didn’t want to feel, not the heartache or the choking in my throat. I didn’t want to barter with the devil. I’d bring her back for the price of my soul.
Hot tears fell on my checks. Did I have the strength to carry on, or did I let the jeep’s carbon monoxide take away my pain? They’d tell me I’d make it, and I’d find somebody new. For now, I waited and prayed.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Photo credit: jonhyblaze on Visualhunt.com / CC BY
Autumn crept into our lives, a welcome relief to the steaming summer sun. Guests abandoned the lodge and staff made plans for new adventures in faraway places. A few guests, reluctant to acknowledge the change, clung to the lodge and the summer events that slowly faded into memory.
Brennan’s contract included closing for the season. He had been eager to arrive, caught up in the excitement and anticipation of the brochure’s promises. Now, he found himself resentful of the summer ghosts, who had changed venues and left him behind.
“I can leave Friday,” he said to himself with increasing frequency as the week slowly advanced. Brennan tore through the closing procedures, hoping to fill the remaining time. On the deck last night, they performed a final farewell, toasting summer’s end into the small morning hours. Today, they vanished along with the sun. The clouds and perpetual drizzle bid them goodbye.
Brennan performed one last check, testing locks and making everything secure. He had forgotten the furniture on the deck. As he worked the rain plip-plopped on fading leaves and bounced on the soaked wooden deck boards. The leaves quivered from the onslaught. Sagging beneath the added weight, they maintained their precarious position until a light breeze severed the last connection and they tumbled to the ground.
Impatient, and ready to leave, Brennan finished his list. His luggage stowed in the last car in the parking lot he was on his way. Brennan never looked back as his car sped through the forest of yellow rain, attempting to catch his future.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
From Sonya’s 3LineTales at Only100Words.
You can find the original prompt here. Thank you, Sonya.
photo by Tyler Nix via Unsplash
I have shed the shackles, the ton of should and must and expectation I carried on my back.
The air streams through my hair, tearing at my skirt as if it were a sail.
I spread my arms wide, unencumbered, I break my bonds and fly.
______________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Fate
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words
PHOTO PROMPT © Gah Learner
I watch the moon as it rises, the worst is upon me. The instant when the moon is full will test my resolve. Anticipation chained me in my room for three days. Battle rage flows in me, demanding I break the restraints, break out, break my vow. I lower my head staring at the deep grooves in the floor cut by my massive claws. Saliva oozes from my jaw, long sticky streams dangle and fill the voids in the floor. Thundering blood chases rational thought, forcing it to quiver and hide. A tortured howl sounds the call, sealing my fate.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: World’s End
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2018 WEEK #36
Word count: 200 words
Michael (Black) Ritter pexels-photo-41506
I spin through revolving doors leaving sirens, bus exhaust and the thundering din of a thousand people behind me. Hank waves from the security desk where he chats with another guard. I enter the metal cube, the doors close and I fly skyward. Up and up, forty-five stories in the air. My ears pop as I ascend, and a melodic ring tells me I have arrived. I am home.
The apartment is sparse; I require only the essentials. It is a welcome relief from the sensory overload that pummels my nerves whenever I am elsewhere. Floor to ceiling windows enclose the apartment and offer views of the city skyline, the sea, and sky. Clouds roll, black and foreboding advancing on my sliver of heaven, my haven at the World’s End.
I lay on the hardwood floor as the storm engulfs me. The building shifts and sways, glass windows bulge and wind howls through spaces and gaps I cannot see. Rain pelts the windows while far below tiny people sprout umbrellas and traffic slows. I envy the storms rage, an emotion from which I am banned. My apartment cradles me, rocks me, eases tension from my soul. At last, I sleep.
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Permit
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 87
Word count: 100 words
Image by Bikurgurl
“You must paint over it.” The police officer stood on Alma’s porch, hands planted on his hips.
“I will not,” Alma said. “Off my property. I have your card and I plan to phone your supervisor.” Alma’s voice rose as she tried to shut the door.
“Show me your permit and I’ll be on my way.”
Alma released the door, almost toppling the officer as she pushed past him. She ran down the stairs, around the corner and jabbed her finger at the wall.
“You blind fool. Look. Enzo said this would happen, so he attached it to the wall.”
__________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Jo Hawk 