Writing to the Picture

 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

Writing to the picture

 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.

Picture: old dock, Search word: hate
----Start short story:-----

Taylor looked at the old dock.  He hated that dock.  He hated everything about that dock.  Yet, he felt drawn here after his father's funeral.  He didn't really understand why, he just knew he had to go.  And here he stood, staring at this place where he spent so much of his younger years with his dad.  His dad, oh, his dad.

The man was an enigma, or at least Taylor felt his was.  His father was diagnosed with cancer when Taylor was just a newborn, and yet this man went on to have 5 more kids and live 12 more years.  Who lives 12 years with "terminal" cancer?  But that is just the type of man his father is, or was.

Was, a word loaded with so much meaning.  Was, not is.  Was, the past.  Was, his father.  Taylor had known his whole life that his father was dying.  He knew his father wouldn't be at his wedding, wouldn't walk his little sister down the aisle, wouldn't be there to watch him pitch the opening game for the Atlanta Braves.  But even though he knew, it was still abstract.  And now, now it isn't.  Now his father is a was, not longer an is.

As Taylor stood at the old dock that he hated, he knew he would be back.  Something drew him there, something made him feel more there than he had in the last week since his father died.  Something told him that he would be back.  Taylor turned to go back to the house, taking in the old dock he hated he smiled.  Yes he hated that dock.

----End short story-----
Word count: 272

Well that was a little more depressing than I meant it to be, and it was really short, but hopefully you enjoyed the impromptu story.

Until next time!


photo credit: 'Ajnagraphy' via photopin cc