Sometimes, while messing around on the internet, I find a photo that
makes me want to write about what I see and how I feel. This is one
such photo. One photo that makes me feel all sorts of things, and from
that I can create a scene. And that is what this blog post is. This is
a fictional story that comes from my imagination and this photo. I
hope you enjoy.Photo: Old house in snow; Search word: snow
::Start short::
I could feel the cold biting in to my hands. I couldn't believe I was still alive, but I was. I could see my goal, the house. It was more of a barn really, but it would be warm, and out of the elements. But the landscape was tricking me, for every step I moved forward, the house moved backwards. Seeing my breath begin to lessen with every step I took, I knew I needed to keep going. But if only I could rest for just a short while. A small rest wouldn't hurt anything, and then I could be prepared to move forward, reaching out to the house with each step.
Pushing the thought of rest out of my mind, I continued to walk. I had to walk, there were no other options. I knew if I stopped, I woudl die. An easy death, no doubt, as freezing has a way of sending your body in to a type of warmth as the last breath leaves you. I couldn't let that happen, so I continued to move, continued to press forward. If I could just make it to the house, I would be okay.
The snow seemed to get deeper with each step, and I knew frostbite had set in on my toes. I began to dream of the warmth of my home. my home, which I would see again some day, I knew it.
::End Short::
Words: 236
So I got slammed with a migraine where this ends. It was awful and while I thought about coming back to tie up loose ends I realized the point of this exercise is not to be perfect in my writing, but to just write when I find a pretty picture. So while it's kinda abrupt at the end and it's not perfect, it is what it is and that's fine. So there we have it.
Until next time.
photo credit: Meriol Lehmann via photopin cc
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