Photo by ON MY BLUE JEANS on Unsplash
Crowded highways gave way to rural roads, and she walked onward. Roads became dirt trails, and then a narrow path nobody followed. The vista beckoned, and she walked onward.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Called
Source: Weekend Writing Prompt # 200 — Vista
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 29 words
Photo by Vitto Sommella on Unsplash
Title: Perspective
Source: Weekend Writing Prompt # 195 — Gargantuan
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 96 words
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“It’s too much.” My words floated between us and wrenched the remaining oxygen from my lungs. The acrid taste of anger lingered on my tongue, and I sunk deeper into grandpa’s wooden kitchen chair.
He patted my knee, crooked his finger, and I followed. He led me to a magical land where massive tree trunks, 100 feet in circumference, supported treetops that played among the clouds.
“Sequoiadendron giganteum,” he whispered. “They have lived here since prehistoric time, and these are three thousand years old.”
I contemplated everything the trees had seen, and my gargantuan problems disappeared.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: The Lay of the Land
Source: Weekend Writing Prompt # 166 – Hinterland
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 87 words
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The story repeats in predictable fashion. A hopeful soul blazes through the pristine wilderness, searching for his breakthrough discovery. With luck, his reward is exotic birds, diverse species of rare orchids, and unique animals. Excited, he shares the wonder.
Tiny frontier towns sprout in the hinterland to provide the curious with accommodations while they conduct their research. A steady stream marks the beginning of an erosion that culminates in a deluge. In time, they conserve the endangered and priceless treasures in an isolated park of utopian hell.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Bosco Verticale
Source: Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story to show what it is to protect nature around us.
Word count: 99 words
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Stefano lifted the heavy portfolio in his hand and swiped his forearm across his sweaty brow. A city bus whooshing past momentarily offered a welcome breeze followed by the acrid aftertaste of hot exhaust. Concrete, glass, and steel, absorbed, intensified, and reflected the summer heat.
As a child, Nonna told him tales of long-ago country summers. Tree leaves danced in gentle breezes, birds sang, and the earth cradled soft blue skies.
He featured urban forestation and nature in his architectural designs. Trees, shrubs, and perennials festooned every design, and he proudly wore the title of The Baron in the Trees.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: A Losing Battle
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Word count: 100 words
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Be wary, my dear creative friend, when you say you wish to explore the seductive call of the arts. If your conviction is not solid, if your resolve is not resolute, if your ethics are not steadfast, clear, and true, then my advice to you is to run. Run, before it is too late.
Once you dip your brush, your pen, your sword, your soul is forever colored, consumed, altered.
Oblivion lurks at the bottom of a paint can, time becomes malleable, and insignificant thoughts recede.
Art has left me desperate and my car keys have been missing for weeks.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Mining for Gold
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words
PHOTO PROMPT © C.E.Ayr
“What are you doing?” Hannah surveyed the discarded canvas in the alley.
“I’m taking the frame,” Kurt said, brushing off the accumulated dust.
“Why?”
“It’s nice.”
“And the painting?”
“Utter crap. Unsigned.”
Kurt scorned artists who were not proud enough to sign their creations.
“But–”
Kurt ambled away, the frame swinging from the crook of his elbow.
Hannah’s lips puckered, and her eyes narrowed. Kurt’s obsession with “artistic sensibilities” blinded him to the beauty inherent in everyday life’s casual clutter.
An idea flickered, wheels turned, and new collage formed. She snatched the picture, realizing who had scored garbage gold.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Photo by Jen P. on Unsplash
I never thought I would be here, really living the dream. Released from Corporate America’s draining demands, I no longer wake before the crack of a sparrow’s fart, to fight rush hour traffic, to log long stressful hours.
My day begins with a gentle stretch, a hot cup of coffee, and a healthy dose of gratitude. Characters whisper in my ear, my desk beckons, and my muse smiles as I set to work. Ephemeral emotions coalesce, transformed into epic tales. My desire to create links me to the past and ties me to the future, as I write about today.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: Family Tradition
Source: Weekend Writing Prompt # 150 – Continuity
Objective: Write a poem or piece of prose in exactly 35 words
Photo by Quaid Lagan on Unsplash
Past generations whisper reassurances. Embroiled in uncertainty, consumed by today, legacy bolsters my future.
The continuity comforts me through trials and tribulations. Loved ones walked this land, they struggled, persevered, survived.
I am never alone.
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Title: First Draft
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words
PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold
The retreat center advertised a magical, bucolic setting guaranteed to unplug the writer from an overconnected world. For hours, Catherine stared at the typewriter, her fingers mindlessly caressing the black keys. She sighed, rising, she stepped outside to tread the marshy moor.
The door clicked shut, and the stapler clacked his jaws.
“Is it good?”
Paper wiggled from under paperweights, wedged themselves into the roller, while the typewriter’s keys pounded words into existence.
“Any plot issues?” the hole punch asked as she perused the first paragraphs.
The ends of the space bar curled into a smile.
“It’s a best seller.”
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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 Geran de Klerk via Unsplash
“Zizzi, do these stripes make my butt look big?”
He trod quietly next to Zelda, contemplating a diplomatic answer to what must be a trick question.
“Zelda, if we keep, walking by the time we get home, your butt will be hotter than I can handle.”
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Jo Hawk 