Second Childhood – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Nina cringed. The other girls wrinkled their noses. No one played Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

Hands on her hips, Candace shook her head. “This is a lame ass game,” she said.

Candace’s mother stood a few feet away and heard every word. Faster than lightning, she grabbed Candace’s elbow jerking her aside. Candace yelped.

“You will not be disrespectful,” she spat as she dragged her off for a private lecture.

Blindfolded, Nina stuck the paper tail to the wall. The woman in the wheelchair clapped her hands and squealed. Nina smiled and went to kiss her grandmother’s cheek.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Contender’s Heat – Friday Fictioneers

Title: The Contender’s Heat
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Jenny froze. On the starting block, her uncomfortable swimsuit grabbed her in places she would rather not be grabbed. Her goggles threatened to suck her eyes from their sockets and the swim cap distorted every sound in the echoing natatorium.

Terrifying memories surfaced warning her of imminent danger. She held her breath. Brackish water swirled and silt obscured her vision. The current tugged, pulling her deeper. Struggling, she fought, reaching for the light. Her life flashed by, and she screamed, as her world turned dark.

Today the master would win. The starter’s pistol fired and launched Jenny into the unknown.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

 

Man of the House – Friday Fictioneers

Title: Man of the House
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

on-route-66-jean-l-hays

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

Chaska pulled his truck onto the shoulder, remembering the long-ago day. It was as vivid as today.

He did everything he could to evade the government people. He made sure the children were clean, fed, did their homework and went to school. He intervened when they fought as youngsters do and tried to be a good parent.

It wasn’t enough. They discovered his secret when he cashed his mother’s monthly benefit check. They found her dead, six months prior, in a gambling town. An overdose.

Their mother’s death left his home in ruins and his family scattered to the wind.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Schooled – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Miriam stood in the Scuola Grande Tedesca listening to the docent.

“De Scuola wasa founded ina fifteen a hundred and a tweeentee eighta,” she recited in a heavy Italian accent. “Prior toa fifteen a hundred and a seexateen, theya not permit Jews toa liva in Venezia.”

The Doge’s decree granted them living area in the “getto”, or foundries. Strict regulations were set. At night, they locked the gates of the “getto” and Christian guards, paid by the Jews, patrolled the canals to prevent them from escaping.

Viewing the elliptical “mechitzah” of the “Scuola”, Miriam wondered at everything her ancestors endured.

*** As a word nerd, I love learning a word’s etymology. Ghetto has an interesting history. To read more check the entry from The Dictionary of Jewish Usage: A Guide to the Use of Jewish Terms : page 50.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Essential People – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

They canceled schools, closed businesses, and ordered nonessential people home. Six inches of snow fell, and the prognosticators promised more.

Georgie refused. Lives depended on him. He considered his job essential and left for work as usual, at a quarter past three. His daily walk was quiet, but this morning he could hear the earth sigh.

He unlocked his shop doors, flipped on the lights, and began. Incorporating simple ingredients, flour, buttermilk, eggs, yeast, and sugar, he moved with the grace of a ballerina.  When the shop bell jingled, his yeasted donuts were ready, guaranteed to warm his customer’s hearts.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Shadow World – Friday Fictioneers

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

Fair Warning – Friday Fictioneers

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

Preserving A Legacy – Friday Fictioneers

Title: Preserving A Legacy
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

PHOTO PROMPT© Sandra Crook

Marta waited. She adjusted her hat, petted the hairnet covering her braided hair, while white nursing shoes and long white lab coat completed her ensemble. It made her feel sterile, one person in a large room of whirling machines.

The textile factory, built two hundred years ago, had employed generations of her family. Marta treasured the photos of her ancestors working here. New computerized looms automated many functions, but they still required human hands. Her hands were integral to the entire operation.

An alarm sounded, and Marta remedied the issue aware that her knowledge and skill preserved a great legacy.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Breathless Echo – Friday Fictioneers

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

ferris wheel

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The amusement park was dead.  Gemma didn’t understand why they left the lights blazing in the middle of winter. Bathed in the festival light’s eerie glow, ghostly aberrations walked the streets below her.

Gemma shivered, unsure if it was the cold or the passing ghosts. Winter’s grip froze the lake where they rented paddleboats each summer. Distorted reflections mirrored the night, enhancing the funhouse feeling Gemma loathed.

Voices shrieked, surreal terror clutched at Gemma’s throat, as the Ferris wheel spun. Torn from its supports, the wheel rolled merrily into the lake and the voices died, forever frozen in the night.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Holding On – Friday Fictioneers

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

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

Sal collected things people threw away, a trait his daughter, Cecilia, hated. Sal’s workshop was overflowing with his treasures.

One day, a piano appeared in the shop.

“What are you going to do with this?” Cecilia asked.

“It holds life.”

Cecilia looked at him and shook her head.

“Wait, you’ll see,” Sal promised.

Sal pulled the piano apart, selling the ivory and ebony keys, veneer, strings, anything of value until only the carcass remained.

“Papa, this is garbage,” Cecilia said.

“It holds life.”

The next morning the piano carcass sat outside the shop, planted with her favorite flowers. Cecilia smiled.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer