Joseph Hawke

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2023

Stories (11)

11 Stories

207 karma pts

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““Welcome, Welcome!”” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #272

Awaiting their guests, the Count and Countess stand in the foyer of their castle-esque home with smiles uncontainable. The butler—a hideously hunchbacked man whose visage is so disfigured as to discourage its regard for any lasting duration—opens the massive wooden portal. Six inches thick and no less than twelve feet high, it moves only with apparent strain, and each degree of aperture yields a cacophonous creak. “Dear, you must see to it that the hinges get oiled! Why poor Sergei is positively struggling to allow our guests in!”  “Yes...

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“Building Bridges ” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #271

Raised on Philadelphia’s Main Line, I came of age in prep schools and country clubs. The culmination of my prowess was to be demonstrated via matriculation to an Ivy, then a graduate degree in law or medical school. This would ensure my place among the privileged elite whence I hailed. Questioning the wisdom of this trajectory, foretold since pre-consciousness, was dismissed as folly. Discussion being discouraged, I simply acted. Dashing the hopes and dreams my parents had pinned on their only child, I enlisted in the United States...

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“Artificial Intelligence, 5th Gen, v2.0” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #256

The structure of the code was fully mapped. Modular programming ensured that the 5Gv2.0 release would be complete by midnight Friday, in time for weekend activities. The bots made sure of it: They tested before they rested, so the programmers could start dragging and dropping first thing the next day. Cooling units ran continuously to ensure nothing overheated, at least not inadvertently, though mostly it was understood that there was nothing such as inadvertent: The natural process of entropy at the subatomic level was ultimately responsibl...

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“Tommy's Stop” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #256

This is a true story. Tom, my high school friend and teammate, and I, despite interruptions over the course of forty years, now in our mid-fifties, remain connected to one another.  We went to Concord High School in Wilmington Delaware, where we also attended the same church, Holy Child, less than a mile from the high school. Tom, even though he played no instrument and his singing was off-key, was also in our church music group, the SIGN of Peace. I was the group’s drummer. SIGN stood for Singing in God's Name. It was started by a guy ...

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“Me and My Uncle” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #255

The fortnight had come to its final day: The day to begin my journey back home, to life as it really is, had arrived. Though known and anticipated, it arrived abruptly. Eid-al-Azha had begun the prior day. Sacrificial animals, populating street corners, grassy medians, and parking lots, had left already, gone as suddenly as they arrived ten days prior. On the evening of the first day of Eid, while Uncle Ramiz and I went on a walk, the streets ran with blood, down driveways of suburban Islamabad homes, looking surprisingly like red paint...

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“Masonry” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #254

(Lewd and graphically sexual language, physical violence) The scaffolding was built and level. The boys made sure when they left the day before, so the masons could start laying brick first thing in the morning. It was hot, so they started at six. The first batch of mortar, already mixed and dumped into a mud pan, rested on a two-by-twelve running the width of the scaffolding, bowing under the stacked bricks. Ernie, cigarette in one hand, troweled the mud in the pan to assess the consistency. “Looks okay. Keep it thin. It’ll dry out in this...

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“The Hotel Great Central Grand Confusion” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #254

With more than a trifle of trepidation, envelope in hand, Liza climbed the staircase to Lady Katherine’s chamber. She knocked ever so lightly, knowing that all manner of cacophony were despised, not only by the Lady herself, but by all of her personal staff and ladies-in-waiting, among which Liza, the butler’s daughter, was acutely aware she was not. The door opened, but no more than a smidge: a crack, at most, through which the envelope Liza held could be slid, and, perhaps, an enterprising housefly might intrude, were it so lucky to gain ...

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“In My Defense” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #253

(Physical violence, racist attitudes) So, it all started when we was coming back. Janie just loves Bald Head, so we go there every year.  Getting to Bald Head is a journey and a half. The drive is eight hours, minimum, and that assumes the traffic in Richmond is only normally horrible, not worse.  And then there’s the ferry, which requires unloading at Southport and then finding the coolers, luggage, boogy boards and all manner of other items essential for the beach on the other side, which for some includes their pooches, but they...

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“The Parking Lot Prophet” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #252

On a hot and humid Sunday afternoon in August, Churchill surveys the scene from his driver's seat perch. Families amble to and from their cars and IHOP. He takes care to park in the same space, hidden from Walgreens’ cameras, and always backs in, so no one can approach him from behind. He turns off the car and removes the key. Can't have a dead battery like the time before. Anticipation climbs his spine like a lizard up a wall. When he deems it safe, he removes the Whip-It canister from a cloth shopping bag and puts on a pair of gloves. Don'...

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“Goodbye, Cupcake” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #250

We were in Grandpa’s house in Stowe. Mom had driven us up from Long Island the day before. I was tired from the drive, but excited to see Grandpa and Grandma ‘cause we hadn’t seen them since Christmas. We never saw them for Easter. That was when we would have Pop-Pop and Nana come stay with us, and they always would make us go to church, which Mom didn’t really do. There was incense that made me feel sick, and Pop-Pop had to take me outside so I wouldn’t throw up. Plus, Dad never came with us. And he wasn’t with us in Stowe. He stayed home b...

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“Running Late” by Joseph Hawke

Submitted to Contest #249

Abdul hit snooze, his alarm clock radio blaring Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer,” rolled over and pulled covers. It was fall and chilly. He sought to return to a dream. It was gone.The digits read 7:07 as the radio alarm resumed and the DJ spoke: “Time to rise and shine!” The Beatles song “Good Morning,” began with a rooster’s cock-a-doodle and Good morning, good morning, good morning.Abdul’s final interview at Fidelity Bank was at 8:30 a.m. His Abu who had passed last year wanted him to be a doctor, but he had no interest in medici...

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Author bio

Born on the prairie, raised in a temperate rainforest. Trained as a banker, became an entrepreneur. Live on the banks of the Potomac, frequent the desert to soothe my soul. I recently published my first novella, American Justice, on Amazon. AMERICAN JUSTICE https://a.co/d/aHPaLgz Please check it out!