The Docks

She sat down on the docks, her mind as dejected as the wind blowing her hair away. She hugged herself because of the cold as she shivered. The cold usually didn’t bother her, usually, she rather liked the small drizzle of rain that had no indication of stopping. But today was not a usual day for her.

She shook her head to clear them of straying thoughts and did her best to focus on the dark and decrepit scenery ahead. She’d been on these docks so many times before but never had it seemed so bad.

The day’s events kept popping up in her mind despite her valiant efforts to pretend that didn’t happen. Everything kept replaying like a broken record, highlighting the worst parts. Amidst the rain, a few tears streaked down her face.

When the sun rose, her demeanor didn’t change. But as she looked upon the rainbow in midst of such a dreary day, Em smiled despite herself.

april-pearson


Word Count: 161

Written as a response to Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. The challenge is to write a story in less than 200 words with help from the picture prompt above.

Advertisements

Stark #writephoto

Bare for all to see,

Completely isolated

from its surrounding

It stood, just like me.

 

The rare breeze

not doing much

to what little leaves

that dared stay on.

 

The sun’s light

ever shining upon

Yet failing to reach

the trees proper.

 

The powerful rain

always falling

Never harming

never helping.

 

Despite it all,

it stood on.

Tall and upright

just like me.

stark


Written for Thursday Photo Prompt, hosted by the lovely Sue.

Pumpkins

It was pumpkin painting day at school so naturally, Em and Row were thrilled.

Em, despite being thrilled had little artistic talent but she never did let such a small thing deter her. To make up for it, she had imagination in spades, and so she put her whizzing and wheezing brain to use.

She thought hard and hard. And slowly let ideas flow from her mind into the world before her. Everything illuminating with just the barest glimmer, she had so many things she wanted to do.

Row, her ever partner in crime did not deter her. Instead, she helped where her best friend couldn’t. She mixed in colors Em didn’t think was possible and corrected the teensy tinsy mistakes Em did.

They worked hard for the hour and a half they had to work. Both girls giggling and covered in paint. But the most important of it all, they were happy and really really happy.

It was something that was theirs and they were proud of it.


Word Count: 169

Ooh boy, this was fun to write. Photo prompt by Susan on Sunday Photo Fictioner. Bit late in replying to this prompt, I know.

Glimmer #writephoto

distant-lights

Resting against a tree,

she looked on

As the light began to fade,

and night fell.

 

Everything inside her,

getting dimmer

The darkness slowly creeping,

into her thoughts.

 

Shouldering all the doubts,

all her anxieties.

The dim glow of the sun,

egging them on.

 

She looked on as the sun set,

impassive and dull.

The glow leaving the earth,

emptying her.

 

Silvery glow illuminating the aclove,

brightening dark realms.

As the moon glowed in the darkness,

for a brief moment, so did she.


Written for Thursday Photo prompt, with prompt given by the lovely Sue. Her sunset prompts always does get me a little melancholic. Been a while since I’ve last written, I hope I did alright.

Memories

She stared as she felt the destruction of her childhood, she watched as she the home she grew up in got demolished unable to move, unable to do anything but look and weep silently.

Sweeping her eyes around, a new wave of nostalgia passed within her. Vivid memories replacing the desolate scenes they were now. She reminisced for it was the only thing she could.

She smiled as many familiar places jumped at her carrying an undertone of melancholia within them. The fun she’d had once, all the brilliant moments she’d experienced tainted now.

Her eyes rested on two old and decrepit armchairs and despite her sadness, she smiled bitterly. She could see her grandparents sitting there regaling her with tales of old, her tiny self, hanging on their every word.

As a piece of an old tree fell on top of them, she turned away, brushing tears she hadn’t seen fall. She kept on walking, not daring herself to look back, not able to witness anything more.

spf-09-23-18-fandango-2


Word count: 168

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. Been a while since I’ve last written anything so I hope I’ve done alright.

She wore a red dress

samuel-zeller-413072-unsplash

She wore a red dress, mischevious and playful.

She wore a red dress, looking dangerously insane.

She wore a red dress, completely enamoring all the men.

She wore a red dress, making her look so serene and strict.

She wore a red dress, one that spoke of unspeakable horrors.

She wore a red dress, looking so innocent and lovely in that dress.

She wore a red dress, something about her so inherently scary.

She wore a red dress, hiding knives in unimaginable places.

She wore a red dress, like the devil with the score to settle.

She wore a red dress, her twists and folds never ending.

She wore a red dress, elegant and utterly charming.

 

She wore a red dress, and as her enemies’ blood splattered upon her, it seemed to get even redder.


Written for the prompt, She wore a red dress, part of July Writing Prompts by the lovely M. Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash

She was magic

She was magic,

all spells and love.

But if provoked,

all curses and thereof.

 

She was beauty,

the prettiest flower.

Gentle and caring,

every day, every hour.

 

She was love,

pure and caring.

But still angry,

when he had it coming.

 

She was the world,

to him and perhaps more.

So drawn was he,

that he forgot she had flaws.

 

She was normal,

except to his twisted views.

She loved him,

so tried to break through.

 

She was determined,

to help him any way she could.

Multiple arguments,

that lead up to nothing good.

 

She was gone,

no one to blame but him.

His life shattered,

everything inside him dim.

 

He was alone,

everything his making.

A love pure,

yet absolutely wrecking.

 

She was an idea,

perfection in a nutshell.

But reality is rarely

covered in pastel.

photo-1500731963505-ab4647276db8


Everybody has flaws, no one is perfect and to see them as such is not doing them any justice.

A response to She was magic, part of July Photo Prompt, hosted by the lovely M.

 

The Gentle Wave #writephoto

Gazing at the deep blue,

Marveling at its wonder.

All the highs and lows,

Making her ponder.

 

Memories flashing in front

Of her deep blue eyes.

Thinking about beginnings,

And sad goodbyes.

 

Waves washing into the shore,

Gently yet so full of force.

Washing away her teary eyes,

Yet her voice still is hoarse.

 

Waves marking their place,

Yet repeating it again.

Drying her eyes of tears,

Gently ceasing the pain.

 

After hours on the rock,

She got up to leave.

Her heart no longer weeping,

She no longer meek.


Written as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt- Wave #writephoto, hosted by Sue at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

 

Serenity

She sighed as she took another sip of her drink her eyes ever so often traveling towards the sun-soaked beach. Giving herself a mental shake, she sighed again. Her eyes drifted towards the decorated clock on the wall. He should’ve been here minutes ago, he’d pay for that, oh he would.

She drifted away again, turning those thoughts away from her mind. Lost in her refreshing drink, she began to imagine all sorts of wonderful things, her eyes traveling outside every once a while.

So lost she was into her own world that she did not see, nor hear a man approaching her.

“Um, miss…” She turned her head towards the relatively overweight man, slowly, purposefully and gave him a once over. He face was strained, his body shaking, and he was sweating, a lot.

She smiled as she gestured over him to sit down. “Well, Mr. Smith, I’m glad you finally showed up.”

His excuses did not interest her. She sat her glass down, a predatory smile on her face. He shivered as she spoke. “We shall talk about your tardiness later. Now, let’s get down to business…”

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Word Count: 189

Written as a response to Sunday Photo Prompt, hosted by the lovely Susan. To read other stories from the same prompt, click here.

Beginnings #writephoto

Underneath the magnificent canopy,

the wind blowing ever so softly,

skies painted ever so beautifully,

sun dying ever so warmly.

 

She sat, gazing at the beauty around,

content with everything here.

Entranced by nature’s splendor,

shoulders light and bright.

 

Past troubles and tensions forgotten,

stress leaving her body.

No more dwelling for future anxieties,

what-ifs or could-have-beens.

 

As darkness grew throughout,

she got up, ready to leave.

To not return to this wonderland,

until she’d bested herself.

 

A new place, a new beginning,

no expectations thrust upon.

She’d build herself from the ground,

and return here once more.

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Written as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt- Beginning #writephoto, hosted by the lovely Sue over on Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.