Thursday photo prompt: Worn #writephoto

This week’s prompt for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto ~ Worn

For visually challenged writers, the image shows deeply worn stone steps, scattered with plants growing in the cracks, leading up to a blue-painted door.

Before Cissey died she stood in the ginnel looking up at doors. Nothing had changed. The steps they used to climb up and down to school, to work to home. Still there worn and full of stories. When babies the pram would be stood at the bottom of the steps and the door was left open so a watchful eye was kept.

As Children they’d perch on the steps and shell the peas and peel carrots and potatoes. Each would have a job. The house was small for a family of ten so often they spilled over on to the steps. Noisy, rowdy, quiet pensive, laughing crying all life flowed out of the two up two down housr on to the steps.

One by one they left the safety of the home, walked down the steps either with Dad or Mum or alone to set up a new life. Some went far some just to another street.

They always came back, for birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, christenings, Christmas and funerals. Always at any event they spilled out on to the steps.

As time past the traffic on the steps become less yet somehow the indents looked accentuated deeper worn. Over the years the generations grew until there was no one left to truly know the significance of the worn steps. Who’s feet had left their mark on history.

Sell it the young ones said, not knowing the reasons for the worn steps. They painted the door, they painted the railings, they thought about repairing the steps but left them.

The for sale sign went up, people came to see the house. They saw the potential, they saw the new paint, the newly added kitchen and bathroom. They didn’t see the generations of family on the steps so many joys and dramas.

Nobody saw them but a special few felt them on the worn out steps. One couple saw them too and they bought the house and the steps.

Thursday photo prompt: Darkness #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a bank of dark clouds rolling in across a sunny moor, casting its shadow on the hills of the horizon.


This week’s prompt ~ Darkness

And so the darkness fell with a crash and a clatter waking up early evening, who was feeling rather drawn out. “Where the hell have you been it’s nine fifteen and I need some rest” Eve Nin complained. Darkness huffed and puffed and looked at his watch, ” I’m not late it mid July and I am bang on time.” He replied. “Well” Eve laughed, “your right about the bang, you made enough noise arriving to wake the dead! ” Darkness and Eve both jumped as a voice from below them screeched, “He bloody did and we are not impressed, we set our alarm for October 1st, and it’s nowhere near that yet.”

Night put his Horlicks down and inquired what all the unholy row was about! Eve said it was nothing to do with her , her shift was finished and she off for a drink with Dawn . Darkness stepped forward akwardly. “It’s my fault, I tripped on the horizon, Eve had a low hold of the sun and it blinded me temporarily. As I fell I cut my knee on the course grass, I have very tender skin you know. The noise I made woke the dead! ” Night took a sip of his Horlicks and said almost kindly, “Would you like a cup”

Darkness sank down next to night and said, ” Yes please” As Eve and Dawn downed their third Sambuca and relaxed, Night and the Darkness sat quietly with their hot drinks and waited for the dead to go back to sleep.

*******

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Challenge. #writephoto.

Thursday photo prompt: Glisten #writephoto

This week’s prompt ~ Glisten. Part of Sue Vincent’s #writephoto.

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a twilit beach, the sea shimmering in the low light. There are rocky islets silhouetted against the water and what might be a figure, running towards…or away from the waves.

Sofia stood on the shore and looked longingly at the silver pathway that the moon was casting on the water. A distant memory touched her mind of when she would of been able to walk that path.

From where she stood she could see the storm gathering momentum , she thought of Peter and his friends who were out there on the water. She had wondered why the son had sent them on ahead with a storm coming in.

Sofia smiled to herself, testing, testing why did he always test.. As she watched the moon glisten off of the sea she knew the answer. There he was walking on the water towards the fishing boat arms outstretched, probably that smile on his face.

As ever all she could do was watch, she saw Peter leave the boat and walk towards the son, doing well at first. Then the fear of drowning in the storm over powered him and he began to sink. Failed, thought Sofia sadly. Then she saw the son reach out and steady Peter and lift him back into the boat. Then the son entered the boat and miraculously the storm ceased.

Sofia felt a pang of jealousy why could he forgive this sinner for losing faith, he hardly knew him. Yet he had known her eons and she was cast out.

As the boat came in to shore, she watched them all joyously celebrating the cessation of the storm and their safe return. As they passed her he looked into her eyes. Sofia felt the pain, the deep pain that consumed her.

The men walked on and she fell to ground and wept, her back hurting where her wings had been.

She felt Gabriel and Michael walk past her, not even s glance in her direction, and out to sea. She watched long after the glisten had faded into dawn. Alone again Sofia trudged on.

Thursday photo prompt: Veiled #writephoto

This week’s prompt ~ Veiled

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a green horizon, beyond which the mist veils a hill topped with strange rock formations.

Morning veiled by death

She picked up her baggage and

At last she’s at peace.

*******

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo . A Haiku for MIL.

Thursday photo prompt: Guardian #writephoto

This week’s prompt ~ Guardian

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a flower-strewn cliff-top above the sea, where a rocky outcrop, seemingly shaped into many forms and faces, looks out over the waves.

They had always been there or so everyone thought. Their faces weather beaten and sun dried over millennia. They guarded the shores, they kept us safe, even now when foolish people dismissed them as “just rock formations”. They stayed steadfast and watched over the seas and us.

No one ever really noticed that unlike most of the coast line these Guardian Rocks did not erode, they did not fall into the sea. Nor did they recede like those around them, no they grew in number. More faces joined them each time there was a threat. They had seen invasion people walking across long gone land, then came the sea then men in boats. They stood and watched, then came sturdier boats, then Balloons then planes, bombs, shells.

They watched and waited, they kept us safe, they grew in number each time these isles were threatened they silently grew in number. They watched as many made their way here hoping for a better life. They witenesed death, birth and anguish. They laughed, wept and when they could allowed some to climb them .

Now we face an invisible threat one we do not know the measure of. This time the threat is alien, yet of this world, deadly and stealthy.

The Guardians were joined by more of their kind but this time they did not feel strong, slowly they felt a weakness entering their soul.

*****

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Challenge, #writephoto.

Thursday photo prompt: Painted #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a rather oriental red bridge over a  pool covered with waterlilies and surrounded by trees.

This week’s prompt ~ Painted

In silence they stand and drink in the view

The sound of the waterfall, music to their ears

The lilly flowers a sight bright and new

They had seen nothing like this for years.

The beauty of nature, it sights and it’s smells

Had almost been forgotten lost for years.

A lifetime they’d been sheltering in their cells.

Hiding from death, while nature simply thrived

Without interference the planet found new life

The humans dwindled but some survived

The planet hoped they had their lessen learned.

Don’t take nature for granted her gifts are to be earned

*******

THIS IS PART OF SUE VINCENT’S #writephoto.

Thursday photo prompt: Dance #writephoto

This week’s prompt ~ Dance

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a pale sun piercing the mists above a green path through a golden field, leading into the centre of a circle of stones.

Join the dance of ages,

Of soothsayers and sages.

As history writes the pages

The stones meet the dawn with praises.

As the sun burns through the mist

Gia touches each stone to give grist

To life’s turns and twist

She warms each one sun kissed.

As night begins to fall

The stones begin to dance and call

This the magic and nature of them all

By day they stand by night they join the ball.

********

This, ( I hope) joyous ode to Gia raises my soul. Part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Challenge.

writephoto prompt!

Thursday photo prompt: Cascade #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a hidden waterfall, surrounded by high rocky banks and trees, cascading into a dark pool.

This week’s prompt ~ Cascade

Falling, tumbling rushing free

From maiden source to mother sea.

Meandering and glittering through

The vales. Adding sparkle to the view

Breaking dams and wearing stone

Filling pools by water’s power hewn.

Rumbling loudly as it arrives

Down the rocks it cascades and dives.

*****

writephoto-logo

This is part of Sue Vincent’s #writephoto.

Thursday photo prompt: Otherworldly #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows an opening between boulders, through which a rocky plateau can be seen, half hidden by mist.

Weather beaten, souls

Alone in the mists of time

Step through the portal.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Challenge.

Thursday photo prompt: Bells #writephoto

This week’s prompt ~ Bells

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a beecwood carpeted by bluebells.

The noise was too much it filled her head, it split her ears,it hurt. It was relentless it was so painful.

She fell, she screamed but no sound left her mouth. She screamed at her son, HELP ME!! But he did not hear.

She fell, the noise was deafening the light was blinding, she hit the ground, the pain stopped and the light softened, the noise stopped.

Ivy opened her eyes, she was no longer in her living room, her prison for the last two weeks. He elder son was no longer there, she was alone, no pain, no noise no light no nagging doubt.

Looking around she relaxed, she was in bluebell wood, the one from her childhood. Everything was the same, she was even wearing her favourite dress. Ivy looked up and her sister Elsie was running along with her mum and dad. She called out to them, they stopped and turned to wave to her. “Come on ” they called, ” come on Ivy stop messing around”

Ivy looked at the beautiful trees, the lovely bluebells, the silence and her family, Infront of her, behind, the lights, the noise, the strangers, the hospital bed.

She had a decision to make, which way was she to choose. ……..

*************

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Challenge. #writephoto.

writephoto-logo

Previous Older Entries

Follow me on Twitter

Follow Us

Follow Us

Follow Us

Follow Us

Mr. Ohh!'s Sideways View

For those of you who aren't me...and I've noticed a surprisingly large number of people who aren't.

The Small Dog

Life from the Tail End

USUAL MUTTWITS

DOG TAILS by ZoZo and Jools

kimbladeswriting

poetry and short stories

Ben Naga

Gifts from the Musey Lady and Me. "Laissez-moi vous raconter ma vraie histoire."

About the Jez of It

Poetry, stories and strange odds and ends from the desk of a writer

The Sound of One Hand Typing

Music, Musings, Memoir, and Madness

"LIFE" ( You like it, I love it! )

"LOVE"-Keeping it real, and keeping it simple!

Our Eyes Open

Come along on an adventure with us!

Diary of a Dublin Housewife

Diary of a Dublin Housewife

J-Dubs Grin and Bear It

As Always, More to Come

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Blog magazine for lovers of health, food, books, music, humour and life in general

Colline's Blog

a potpourri of thoughts and experiences

pensitivity101

An onion has many layers. So have I!

lynz real cooking

lynz real life

Darswords

Musings about Havenverse

From Cave Walls

The Journey Home

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Echoes of Life, Love and Laughter

like mercury colliding...

...moments of unexpected clarity

G-Bears Blog

Real Life - Hard Facts !

All in a Day's Breath

Art, Love of Life, Philosophy, Writing, Spirituality

Kevin Parish

Poetry, lyrics and other words...

Claire Ladds

Crime and dark fiction author

adamdixonfiction

Short stories from a fiction addict

Write to Inspire

Lance Greenfield - Night Writer

Thoughts by Mello-Elo

Books, Poems, Stories...and a cup of coffee, or two!

Tent Stories

The untold tales of paths trodden, fears conquered and battles won.

Jemima Pett

Writing and reviews with an environmental, science fiction, and fantasy touch

My Colourful Life

Because Life is Colourful

Marian Wood

Aspiring Author and Poet

Ritu Bhathal

Author, Poet, Storyteller

besonian

musings on life, love, people, why we're here and where we're going

Author Steve Boseley - Half a Loaf of Fiction

Horror and Dark Fiction, and assorted other topics

A Unique Title For Me

Hoping to make the world more beautiful