The Reward – 100 Word Wednesday

February 17, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 4 Comments

Title: The Reward
Source: 100 Word Wednesday: Week 107
Word count: 100 words

Allie shifted, tired of waiting and watching she rubbed her neck and surveyed her immediate area. Maybe the intelligence was wrong. She glanced at her wrist then refocused her sights to the bridge’s far end. Fifteen minutes past the appointed time stretched to half past the hour.

“Any movement?” the voice in her ear ask.

“Negative,” she whispered.

“Should we abort?”

Stifling a groan, she felt the muscle in her temple throbbed.

“Negative. Hold your position.”

Another half hour passed, but still, Allie waited.

A flash from the far end of the bridge set Allie’s pulse racing. They had escaped.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Nothing But Love, Babe – Thursday Threads

February 15, 2019February 14, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 5 Comments

Photo by Chris Murray on Unsplash

Jeremy heard the doctor’s question. Shifting in his chair, he stared outside. Water trickled and dripped from the icicles clinging to the eaves. Drip, drip, drip. Each drop marking time with his heartbeat, frozen and somehow still alive.

“Jeremy?” her soft voice prodded.

He looked into her doe brown eyes and remembered Meghan’s eyes. His heart constricted, he felt panic and gasped.

“Easy. Breathe slowly,” she instructed.

He closed his eyes, steadied his breath.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“I don’t know what to feel. I mean, how would you feel?” Jeremy glared at her.

She said nothing, waiting.

“You come home early and find rose petals leading to the bedroom. You open the door, thinking she will be there in a sexy negligee. She’s there all right. But she’s not alone.”

Jeremy paused, covering his face with his bandaged hand.

“Go on,” she coaxed.

“I never suspected. They weren’t supposed to know.” Jeremy scrubbed away his tears, “I was so careful. I had a system, a good system. They shouldn’t have found out. I don’t know how they did.”

“But they did?” the doctor pushed.

“They said they loved me. How could they hurt me like this?”

“We found Margot,” she said. Jeremy’s shoulders slumped.

“And Martha, and Madeline,” she said as she walked to the door.

“We also know about Mariah and Makenzie,” the doctor paused, letting the names sink in.

“Perhaps, you got off easy,” she finished.

Jeremey listened as she shut and locked the door.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Nothing Ventured – 3 Line Tales

February 14, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 9 Comments

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

graffiti-stick-figure-man-hanging-from-a-red-heart

photo by Nick Fewings via Unsplash

Andre watched his friends, as one by one they grasped at love, and while some floated away in a blissful cloud, others crashed, burning brightly.

Timid and afraid, Andre stood, his feet firmly planted on the ground, as he listened to their tales of ecstasy and despair.

One fateful day, Andre saw a beautiful heart and without thinking he leaped, grasping and clinging to the heart, he hoped for paradise and knew he had changed his life forever.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Disillusioned – Friday Fictioneers

February 13, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 33 Comments

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

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

At first, Jordan loved her. The brownstone’s façade was gorgeous, and her history touched Jordan’s heart. The building was solid, the foundations strong, an easy flip they said.

Now Jordan hated her. She resented her deceit, her secrets, and the countless imperfections. Cracks in the foundation and water seeping into the basement cost money to fix. They had butchered the support beams to retro-fitted electrical and plumbing installations, rendering the beams useless. The engineer marveled that she still stood.

Today the contractor discovered a hornet’s nest and Jordan watched her money slip away along with any hope of breaking even.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Final Answer – Flash Fiction Challenge

February 12, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 13 Comments

Title: Final Answer
Source: Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story that includes a sign.
Word count: 99 words

neon-sign-reads-this-is-the-sign-youve-been-looking-for

Photo by Austin Chan on Unsplash

It’s the question I’ve been asking since we met. I can’t tell if you care or if you tease. With you the day is light or else it’s black. Your words can bring me to my knees. Give me a sign to let me know.

My friends say I should live my life, stop this endless strife, and find myself another wife. I want a single word from you, the reason to endure to the end of time. Please give me a sign and let me know.

Tonight, I found you gone, and at last, I read your sign.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Truth Training – #MenageMonday!

February 12, 2019February 11, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 6 Comments

Title: Truth Training
Source: #MenageMonday! Challenge Week 2×20
Word count: 250 words

source: Dreamstime

Torianna peered into the old loading shed, let her eyes adjust to the darker space and searched for the target. A soft breeze ruffled the littered platform and drew the soothing sounds of the forest inside the enclosure. Dappled shadows played on the walls. Torianna was alone.

In the far corner, was her target, a rusted box. Ever watchful, she stepped onto the platform, made her way to the box and knelt before it. It was a simple box, no adornments, no lock. It opened easily. Inside rested a single folded parchment.

Anger rose in her chest. She had risked her life for this? For this, she had battled and killed?

She stood as she unfolded the parchment and read.

“Congratulations. You have advanced to the second part of your journey.”

“Second part?” Torianna screeched, her voice echoing in the enclosure. Her foot slammed the metal box, sending it hurtling onto the track where it clattered and banged, before falling through a hole in the floor.

source: Dreamstime

“Damn you, Aalim. This is another of your teaching moments, isn’t it?”

Silence answered her.

“Talk Aalim,” she said and stomped her foot.

The breeze tugged the parchment she held in her hand. Torianna sighed and read the rest of the message.

“Great, Aalim. More doors to unlock, more puzzles for me to solve. Why can’t you answer a simple question?”

She lowered her head in resignation. Etched in the floor where the box had rested was her answer.

“Truth comes in three stages.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Lucky Stars – 3 Line Tales

February 11, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 8 Comments

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

old-truck-under-a-night-sky-filled-with-stars

photo by Ian Parker via Unsplash

Helicopter blades beat the air, chopping through his mind as mortars exploded and soldiers screamed.

A cold, moist nose nudged his hand, pulling him from his nightly rerun.

High above Grandad’s old truck, millions of stars danced through the sky, and he thanked each for seeing he made it home, alive.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Darkness Before Dawn — Friday Fictioneers

February 6, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 40 Comments

Title: The Darkness Before Dawn
Source: Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

Jimmy stared into the fire pulling the old wool army blanket tighter. The cold night promised to get colder.

He needed to decide, but he hated his choices. The most logical choice, he hated the most. It meant saying he was wrong when he wasn’t. He could make it to morning.

The embers faded, and freezing drizzle pelted him, soaking his blanket.

Digging the phone from his pocket, he let the screen fill with crystalline drops before he finally hit send.

A sleepy voice answered. He paused, still uncertain when he heard his own voice crackle.

“Mom? It’s me, Jimmy.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Another Way – Flash Fiction Challenge

February 2, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 19 Comments

Title: Another Way
Source: Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Write a story about sea mist.
Word count: 99 words

Photo by Jakob Stenqvist on Unsplash

I’ve seen them walk into the sea. You know the ones, plagued by constant misery. Their eyes cast down, always looking at the ground. The sea mists rise, reaching for cloudy skies. All around, the grey days bring despair, and in the mist, I could surely drown.

I want something else as I stand here with the sand between my toes, struggling to survive. I’m amazed I’m still alive. But I won’t say goodbye.

They say there is another way. So even on the cloudy day, even in the misty grey, I keep my eyes looking for the sun.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Never-Ending Patterns – Thursday photo prompt

February 1, 2019 / JoHawkTheWriter / 10 Comments

Title: Never-Ending Patterns
Source: Thursday photo prompt: Fragrant #writephoto
Inspiration: Patterns by Amy Lowell
Word count: 405 words

the image shows a formal English rose garden in bloom. Four paths, bordered with lavender, lead to the center of the garden, where a weeping standard rose cascades over a seat that is built around its trunk.

I walk the garden paths, remembering the lady who walked the paths one fateful day. Resplendent patterns, engraved upon my mind, recall the blowing daffodils and bright blue squills. I see her stiff brocaded gown, her powdered hair, her jeweled fan and I yearn to touch her sweet cheek, caress her trembling hand.

Her patterned dress, a fashion plate of pink and silver pain, floated along the gravel path buoyed by high-heeled ribboned shoes, sustained by whalebone and the stiff brocade. Daffodils and squills danced a merry allemande with the wind and she sinks to the seat beneath the lime tree. Fragrant lime where passion bloomed, now stands gnarled with age. And I weep as she once did.

Water-drops echo and splash along the garden paths, endlessly flowing in the marble fountain. Hidden in the hedges the marble basin reflects images of a woman’s softness bathing, waiting for her love. Sweet water evokes the ecstasy of the once dear hand and the desire for freedom from fine brocade. The stained pink and silver gown now lies crumpled in a long-forgotten heap upon the ground.

Vestiges of pink and silver flash between the hedges followed by ephemeral laughter while glimmers of sunlight sparkle on his sword-hilt and black buckled boot. Willingly captured in the shadows, waistcoat buttons press upon soft flesh, while hedgerow dappled sunlight bears testimony to the aching, unafraid adore of young lovers. Whispers of longing, remain crushed by stiff brocade and the Duke’s letter hidden there.

While the pages have grown soft with time, the words of regret, the news of Lord Hartwell’s death in action, cut with the same disregard. Thursdays, like the patterned paths and the faceless messenger, required no answers today.

Never my husband, no matter how many months and years have passed. Never to break the pattern. Denied the rank of Cornel, I will ever be his Lady. The lingering sunlight can hold no blessing for one long dead.

The patterns endure as I walk the paths in Winter and in Summer. Patterned garden paths, stiff brocade, squills and daffodils followed by roses, asters, and snow. Day follows day, and months give way to years. I walk immersed in memory and shield a too soft body with stays and buttons and lace. The paths define the life denied by patterns called a war. My release lives in death, so much death. Will it alter nothing as the pattern marches on?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer