Sue Vincent’s #writephoto: Causeway.

This week’s prompt ~ Causeway

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a calm seascape in half-light, with a pathway of stone leading through the waters towards the horizon.

It had always confounded him, the causeway stretched out before him standing proud leading out to sea and yet going nowhere. Just like him going nowhere.

Image found here.

Alone  he  stands  on the  beach

He’s come  this far from all he has known

All goals  and hopes  smashed  and out of  reach

He  has lost all, job,  family, love  and  home.

The  bottle’s content is  his  only  friend

He’s cold  and tired, no life he  has lost all hope,

The sun sets  another empty day comes  to an end

Water  laps his  feet, tears burn his  eyes  he cannot cope.

Emptiness  eats his soul the pain is deep like a cancer

He knows  he  had it  all and  lost it, his fault only

He  was young  and  reckless and a bright romancer

Squandered  days  and nights,drink and  drugs left him lonely

When did it  start  he  does not  know

But  he  prays it  will end and  soon

He lays  down curled  like  a  child, his  tears  flow.

Alone on  the beach washed  by sea and  lit  by moon.

His soul crosses the causeway.

This is part of Sue Vincent’s #writephoto.

Thursday photo prompt: Aflame #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows an empty landscape beneath a blue sky. Darkness gathers above the horizon and between land and cloud, the sky is aflame…

AFLAME.

Mathew answered Rachel’s howl silently and carefully non telepathically . He knew she would not hear him but also he knew she would understand why he could not answer her.

Looking to the horizon he saw the the sunrise approaching , time to find shelter with the other vampires he was tired, obviously not physically tired but mentally. He was tired of pretending to be part of this rabble of young and surprisingly viscous vampires. Only last night he had had to take part in destroying an entire village of humans. Men women and children slaughtered, these young creatures barely a couple of hundred years old drained and then ripped apart the humans leaving them strewn around like so much detritus. They ate and drunk of the humans stores, so much that they were beyond drunk. Worst of all was how they sort out the good looking males and females and repeatedly used and abused them before draining them of their lives blood, that was at least merciful end to their torture . Not that any of this rabble had any idea what mercy was.

Corvus buzzed around Mathew’s head telling him that Rachel, Lisa and Hope had reached Ewan’s castle and than Ewan was preparing his men for battle. Good, thought Mathew and he dipped his head as Corvus flew off in to the flame red dawn. Slowly he turned towards the dark woods where they were spending this day. As he approached he could hear the screams of the humans that had been kept alive for entertainment . Why, he wondered, had they not had enough to satisfy their blood lust during the night.

The poor unfortunates were pegged to trees and the ground stripped naked and they looked terrified, rightly so, mused Mathew as he passed them. Carefully, so as not to be seen he ripped out the hearts of the younger ones so as to dispatched them without anymore suffering.

Back at Silverman beach Rachel looked toward the dawn sky was it aflame with light or fire or just a reflection of the bloody war .

Calador stood on the ramparts of the elves stronghold, wandering where and how Lisa and Hope were faring. Were they even alive, he put so much faith in Lisa’s magic and Rachel’s strength and determination. At that moment the sky became aflame with the dawn. Calador took this as a good omen, what else could he do?

********

To be continued.

If you wish to read Lisa’s and Rachel’s story up to this point you can find it here.

**********

This is part of Sue Vincent’s #writephoto

Thursday photo prompt: Wicker #writephoto

This Acrostic two part poem  is part of  Sue Vincent of  The Daily Echo’s  #writephoto.

Wicker

Witches three, they  called us little did they know

Insinuations made against us , lead us to be burned, slow.

Children we delivered , denounced an turned away

Kindling they all gathered to help  build the fire that day.

Each and everyone  who was witness we had healed through out  their lives.

Renounced  and  and  sold us out.

Women

We stand  here as reminders to what you have all done

OH! yes you are responsible for the future  that’s  to come

Mend your ways, but  the harm is done your reign is  almost run.

Endlessly you have  misused  Nature’s gifts

Now we join our hands in prayer  for you it’s more than you deserve.

#writephoto

Thursday photo prompt: Invitation #writephoto

Tempting, open just a crack

Beckoning  to me, calling  me off the old track.

What delights are  hidden  through the gate, ajar

My senses  drawn to enter

The forbidden is always  a lure.

Like  Eve I am drawn to the unknown

Helpless to resist. Toward it I am drawn.

On the  fresh hold I stand with baited breath

Push the gate, feet itching no choice left.

I enter no man’s land  and  behold

Open my mind as the mysteries unfold.

     **********

#writephoto

#writephoto.

This  is my  entry  for  Sue Vincent‘s Thursday Photo Prompt .

 

Thursday photo prompt: Snowfall #writephoto

This is Sue Vincent‘s Thursday PhotoPrompt,

#writephoto.

Snowfall

The journey had been long and arduous. Travelling through time was wearing on the nerves. So much had changed around him and he had only been able to witness in silence.

So much had happened he’d felt warm and safety of the womb of mother earth. For the longest time he was settled until the great movement had churned up. He and those around him were awoken and cast out. They had lain where they had landed open to weather, wind rain sun and snow.

The animals came first they never caused trouble, occasionally rubbing up against him or sheltering from the sun. The plants also were a pleasure to live alongside. They had colour, they whispered gave shade kept him company. The gentle moss even covered him in green.

Then came the humans they were no trouble at first but they changed, became less animal like and more selfish and destructive. They had moved him him twice to use him as part of a circle. He was bigger then but later they had stolen parts of him to build castles and homes.

He was glad he could still talk to his other selves where ever they were it made him feel safe and whole.

He liked the snow it was soft and gentle. Not like the humans, demanding, waging wars, killing eachother. He had seen dreadful things , killing machines, some throwing bullets or flames. Death dropping out of the skies blood all around.

Not all the humans were bad though he has seen some be kind, even worship him or near him, make love hidden by him, sleep in his shade and even touch and talk to him.

He sighed “I suppose” he said to the tree next to him “I will just go on, I will miss you though”. The tree sighed too. He replied, “I will miss you too old friend but you were here before me, you will stay on.” Gentle letting the snow settle on his limbs the tree continued.”Our feathered friends have taken my seeds and spread me far and wide. So we may meet again, especially if you are moved again.”

The ancient stone looked up at the tree and replied. ” I cannot bear to see you killed, I have seen too many of your kind cut down. I will sleep and when I wake again I wonder what shall I find.” The tree bowed, “Goodbye friend I hope we meet again.”

—————

They came in the night, two humans, a small female and a taller male. They were wise in the old ways, the stone could tell. They touched him and asked his permission to stand in his shadow. They apologized that they could not stop the developers from moving him and chopping down the tree. They did not think it was progress. The stone assured them he would survive.

————–

In the morning the bulldozers came. They cut the tree down, the stone was asleep, deeply asleep so as not to see or hear his friend being killed. The snow fell.

Thursday Photo Prompt.Wave. #writephoto.

This my entry for Sue Vincent of Daily Echo #writephoto.

Rules and Pingback Here

Wave

Watching the mist rolling in on the tide none of them could of imagined what was coming. The empty beach looked so peaceful and safe.

The cattle in the fields behind them knew, they moved uneasily and their mooing grew to a crescendo. The dogs knew too they all left save one. She stayed close to her master.

Unsettled by the noise of the cattle the people of the cliff top moved towards their houses. The man and his faithful dog the last ones to leave.

At midnight the cattle finally fell silent and the lights in the three seaview cottages went out.

The mist stayed for three days. None of the villagers ventured near the beach or the clifftops. They all felt the menace in the air.

On the fourth day the mist was gone, so we’re the cliffs, the cattle and the cottages and their occupants.

The landscape was vastly changed, the land now ran straight to the sea, the fields level with the beach. Three families gone….five generations between them.

The beach was different too no longer golden and peaceful but grey and forbidding. They never found a soul from the cottages nor any of the cattle only the dog remained.

One of the villagers took her in but though still a gentle soul she was now so timid she was almost unapprochable.

After a while she died, no one ever spoke of what happened again untill many years later when on a beautiful sunny afternoon another mist rolled in.

They had no idea that this was the second wave.

Thursday Photo Challenge: The Spur.

This is my entry for Sue Vincent of The Daily Echo Thursday Photo Prompt. Entitled The Spur.

Rules and Pingback Here

The Spur

It was late afternoon, Fay awoke alone covered in blood, bites and bruises. She savoured everyone of them. So bewitched and compelled was she by Roman that she actually sort out his cruelty.

Vampires needed to be hurt to feel, everything needs to be harsher, darker and more intense for them to feel anything.

She looked up from the filthy bed that she lay on and saw the spur hanging on the wall. Old and rusty, her eyes rolled and her body quivered as she recalled Roman running it down her body.  Cutting deeply her breast and stomach and then it being dragged through her legs and up her back. At one point she lost consciousness waking later to find  Roman inside her.

Lying on the bed of rags she wandered how that “shewolf” could ever satisfy her brother… Fay drifted off to sleep. Dreams of war filling her head and in the mist of it all she saw Mathew about to loose his head and the werewolf and the witch burning at the stake. Fay was in extasy watching the carnage….. Then a voice, she had heard before, spoke in her head. “This shall not happen I will not allow it.” It was Hope’s voice she heard. Hope’s voice  and her face, yet not Hope’s face for the face was beautiful and ageless. Not that of a baby’s.

Fay spat at the face and told it to go! Fay woke sweating, all her senses heightened!. Sitting up she was alone and cold all the feelings she so craved had deserted her. The twisted joy of the night before, gone! 

Fay dressed, looking out on the evening devouring the valley she screamed in frustration and anguish the empty, soullessness that was her norm had returned, but now it hurt!

                 •••••••••••••••••••••

Back at the Witches Tower  Rachel and Lisa were concerned about Hope. She had been disturbed all afternoon and just before dusk she had,  had two fits. Thankfully the child was sleeping the sleep of the innocent now. As the two females looked on they were sure they saw the baby smile.

Lisa was disturbed, everytime she lifted Hope she got flashes of bloody war. Also, and this she could not understand, she kept seeing an old rusty spur hanging on a wall.

What Lisa knew was that war was coming, something had spurred it on.

You can read the story so far here

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