FFfPP

The Match Up – FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: The Match Up
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #19
Word count: 200 words

They met after dark every Friday night at the abandoned warehouse. The road running past it was straight as an arrow, farmland to the north and a swampy creek on the south. The warehouse was too far from town. Even the cops didn’t come. It was only the crew.

It was like most other nights, except tonight the fog rose from the swamp and rolled across the road, threatening to engulf the lot. The first cars arrived. Jimmy slipped past the chained door that hung on bent hinges. Inside he flipped a switch and lights bathed the lot in an eerie glow. Everyone knew the drill, and they filled the slots.

Heads tuned when a late comer rolled in, fog oozing after him, boiling up and over the car as he slid from behind the wheel. The hooded stranger leaned against his bumper not uttering a word.

“Wanna race?” someone from the crew called.

The stranger nodded. They lined up, engines revved, Ginny dropped the flag. Tires squealed, and they vanished into the fog racing for the finish line. Eyes straining into the dark, a brilliant flash blinded them before the concussion of the crash knocked them to the ground.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

Broken Legacy – FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: Broken Legacy
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #18
Word count: 200 words

Marcus scooted another wooden crate out from under the workbench. He stood hefting the box to the top of the workbench’s well-worn surface and sorted its contents into three piles. The first and smallest pile held the handful of tools good enough for him to use as they were. A second, slightly larger pile contained tools he thought he could salvage. The third and largest pile was a mound of tools too rusted, pitted or broken from lack of care and improper storage to be of use to anyone.

He sighed as he surveyed the carnage. His never knew his grandfather, and it saddened Marcus. Grandpa had been a skilled and talented woodworker, his pieces scattered among the family. Why didn’t Grandma share this locked section of the basement with him? She had never shown him his workspace, not even when Marcus opened his own shop. Standing in the dank basement surrounded by his tools, Marcus met his grandfather. He didn’t understand why she would lock them away, letting them disintegrate in layers of rust and dust in a musty dungeon.

If he had known about his grandfather’s tools sooner, he might have saved them. It was such a waste.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

The Wander’s Path – FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter

Title: The Wander’s Path
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #17
Word count: 200 words

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #17

Mitch had spent the last two years following where the road led. He had taken a trip to Cozumel for spring break one year and never went back. Some guys he met invited him to join their trip to Arica Chile to surf. He tagged along. The surfing had been stellar. When the surfing group returned home, he headed to Machu Picchu before finding another surfing adventure. When he wasn’t on the beach he picked up work to pay his expenses. Mitch found odd jobs working at surf shops, coffee bars, restaurants and night clubs. As the summer surf waned, he found an opportunity to help crew a yacht to Monte Carlo. In Europe, he learned to ski in the Swiss Alps and wandered through great cities and ancient ruins.

For the last week, Mitch surfed the waves at Kolibithra beach by day and slept on the sand each night. He lay on his back and studied the stars as they traveled across the heavens. They knew where they belonged, and where their paths would take them was certain. Mitch wondered where he belonged. One evening when the sea was calm his thoughts flew west. He knew where he belonged.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

The Paradox — FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 4 Comments

Title: The Paradox

Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #16

Word count: 200 words

 

“But Doctor, this bottle says ‘Poison’.”

“That’s the one.” Doc held out his hand and waited. She hesitated before gingerly setting the bottle in his outstretched hand.

Doc pulled the stopper, carefully measuring two drops into the solution he was preparing.

“Aren’t we supposed to cure him?” she asked.

“Poison. Medicine. Two sides of the same coin.” He replaced the stopper and gave her the bottle. Turning back to his work he picked up a glass rod and swirled it in the cup. Laying it on the table, he passed the cup to Ruth.

“Give this to him. Make sure he drinks it all.”

“Doc?” Ruth’s voice shook.

Doc set the cup on the table and took both Ruth’s hands in his.

“Ruth the body is an amazing thing. If his body were well, this would make him sick. But he is ill and this will help him.”

Ruth nodded and took the cup. She walked to the cot where he lay. Ruth lifted his head and poured the concoction past his slack lips and down his throat. Then she waited. She sat by his bed through the night, hoping and praying. Exhausted, she slept.

“Ruth?” a raspy voice called.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

Gaucho Training — FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 10 Comments

Title: Gaucho Training
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #15
Word count: 200 words

Rodrigo placed his hands on the cement barrier and hoisted himself up.

“¡Basta!” his father yelled from astride his favorite chestnut mare. Facón trotted up in front of Rodrigo. The reins were slack, as Papá continued coiling his riata with both hands. Facón knew Papá, she was his legs.

“Papá…” Rodrigo started.

“Mi hijo, this bull, he is feroz. ¿No? Your madre, she would kill me, muerto, if something bad happened.” Papá said drawing his finger across his throat.

“Soon, mi hijo, you will be on your horse next to me and Facón. Pero no hoy.”

Rodrigo let himself slip to the ground. There was no arguing with Papá. If he wanted to watch, it would be with both feet on the ground and looking through barbed wire. He watched Papá and the gauchos separate the bull from the rest of the herd. They branded him and quickly released him. The bull was not pleased and made a run at several of the gauchos. Papá and Facón deftly distracted the bull and sent him to a small enclosure where he could do no harm. Rodrigo watched, fascinated with their skill. He couldn’t wait to be a gaucho just like Papá.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

When Superheroes Fail — FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 4 Comments

Title: When Superheroes Fail

Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #14

Word count: 200 words

Dani wrestled the large cardboard box out of the minivan and hauled it to the front porch. She fumbled with the keys, unlocked the door, shoved the box over the threshold, and then kicked it across the tile so she could slam the door shut. Exhausted, she collapsed on the sofa in the living room and soon cried herself to sleep.

It sat in the same spot for months. Day after day, Dani walked past it.

“It has been almost a year,” her mother reminded her, staring at the box. Dani, didn’t reply, didn’t look at it.

Today was Justin’s birthday. Dani made his favorite cake, chocolate with chocolate icing. She lit the candles and carried it to the box as she sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to him. The candles burned, white wax pooling on the dark chocolate icing before she finally blew them out. Setting the cake on the floor, she knelt and opened the box.

On the top, just has she remembered were his superhero shoes. She hugged them to her chest. He was hers for only twelve years. At the end, she held his hand and told him he was brave. Even superheroes couldn’t save her baby boy.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

On Guard — FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 3 Comments

Title: On Guard
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #13
Word count: 200 words

John didn’t know why he did it, really. He hadn’t ever given it much thought. When pressured for an answer, he said it was genetic. He liked most of the people he met. And he met every kind, the best and the worst of humanity each of them searching.

He stayed with the police department ten years after he was eligible for retirement. When off duty, he took side jobs, working as a security guard at the bank, the jewelry store and sporting events at the high school. It wasn’t a job. Nothing like how his friends described their jobs. He enjoyed his work, and he did it well. The years had taught him to recognize trouble at a glance; he knew the smell of trouble as any well-trained fox hound knew the fox.

John watched the group standing at the coffee kiosk, his gaze concentrated on one man. John felt the old familiar feeling deep in his gut. The group moved. John followed, hanging back to avoid being seen, making mental notes of their features, their cloths the way they moved. He rode down the escalator as they disappeared around the corner. John would be there when trouble started.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

The Oath – FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 2 Comments

Title: The Oath
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #12
Word count: 200 words

 

Gregor brought the Notarzt-Einsatzfahrzeug to a screeching stop a few yards from the helicopter. He grabbed his bag and ran for the door. The helicopter lifted off before the crewman slammed the door behind him. Seconds counted. Gregor tucked the bag between his legs and jammed on the headphones.

“Where’re we going?”

“Zugspitze,” a voice crackled in his ears.

Gregor paled and his hands shook.

“You ok Doc?”

Gregor nodded taking deep calming breaths.

He started this journey long ago when he was just a boy. Determined, persistent, always choosing the most difficult path, it was the only way he knew. Still, he had been the top student in his class. Anything less would have been failure. His time at Universität Heidelberg the “Harvard of German Medical Schools” had been no exception.

With his newly minted Notfallmedizin board certification, this first call determined everything.

The helicopter buzzed to the cliff site. On the ledge below two hikers looked to him to save their lives.

As the basket lowered him to the narrow ledge, he closed his eyes repeating the words that had brought him back to this place today.

“I promise, Dad. I won’t let anyone else die like this.”

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Jo Hawk The Writer

Death Sentence — FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 6 Comments

Title: Death Sentence
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #11
Word count: 200 words

It started out as nothing. A small lump, nothing. She almost didn’t mention it to the doctor, and he almost dismissed it out of hand. His nurse encouraged him to perform the biopsy, just to be sure. She hadn’t worried, almost forgot about it until he called with the results.

During that call, nothing transformed itself into total devastation. He informed her he had forwarded her file to an expert in the field. The expert was waiting for her call whenever was convenient for her in the next day or two.

As requested she scheduled the exam and more tests. The verdict remained unchanged. Three to six months before she would die. She thought it incomprehensible how nothing altered her life, her dreams. They could treat it aggressively with chemo and radiation and side effects that might kill her. The treatment might extend her life by a few months. The other option was to do nothing. Her decision.

She examined herself in the mirror, seeing more than her reflection and knew this was not how her story ended.

Months later, the experts declared the treatment a complete success, others called her a miracle.

She called it the will to live.

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Jo Hawk The Writer

Apollo Smintheus — FFfPP

/ JoHawkTheWriter / 8 Comments

Title: Apollo Smintheus
Source: FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #10
Word count: 200 words

Eudora shifted the heavy basket from one hand to the other as she paused to adjust the strap of her sandal. She wasn’t far from the temple and was anxious to be finished with the task. The thought of what she had to do repulsed her. But if it saved her mother, it would be a small price to pay.

In the temple, the giant statue of Apollo towered over her. It wasn’t Apollo who made her tremble. The ground beneath the statue, pulsated with the movement of hundreds of mice. She hated mice. Taking a deep breath, she set the basket on the alter and began to prepare the offering.

Eudora placed the thigh bone of the family’s cow in the center of the alter. Repeating the words of the healer, she anointed it with wine and set it on fire. As mice marched across her feet and pulled at the hem of her gown, she wished she could run from the temple. Chanting and praying, she tended the fire, until only the charred thigh bone remained.

“Please live,” Eudora pleaded.

The mice retreated to their burrows as the last tendril of smoke circled towards the heavens. Apollo smiled.

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Jo Hawk The Writer