Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
I just dreamed about it, we were there, and on the first morning we walked in the park nearby. It’s exactly as we imagined – or remembered – a cool island in the middle of the city, early joggers, people taking in the fresh air, reading on benches, discussing their plan for the day with friends.
And then there is the cascade, and the god at the bottom, near the usually busy street. We walked past it, followed the avenue, at that time of the morning there was yet little traffic. We came back through the quiet street that leads to the “quartier”, and took the stairs.
When I woke up, you were still asleep. I was in a different city, an hour behind the one I’d just left. It was time to make coffee, and look again at the floor plan. We will get there won’t we?
Image: Neptune, Viktoria Park, Berlin Kreuzberg, © Honoré Dupuis
This week, the photo prompt is a tower, stark against a clear blue sky… what secrets does it hold…and what mysteries might it conceal?
She crouched behind a short spiky bush, and waited for a sound. There was none, not even the usual discrete footfall of small creatures in the dark. A hawk could be seen, circling silently around the dark silhouette of the tower.
“So,”she thought,”This is where you died, so long ago even the stones have forgotten your name, the colour of your hair, the strength of your arms…” She relaxed her grip on the sword: there was no-one there, perhaps not even the spirit of the hero, who, in eons past, had died defending her ancestors, in this forsaken and deserted place, alone against multitudes of demons.
But she had to find out. Cautiously she started moving toward the ruin, one step at a time, a fluid and silent motion that only supernatural eyes could have observed.
Yet she sensed some presence, somewhere, closer to the tower, cloaked in darkness. Now she heard the voice of an owl hunting.
Grey skies, westerly winds, crowds in the malls,
Sometime a new life: as Spring will come
Blowing away the fogs of the past year…
the year of forgiveness and love
Image: Edouard Boubat – Jardin du Luxembourg, Paris, 1952, via http://oldalbum.tumblr.com
I will never know if you remember, wherever you are now. It was already autumn, and the chill in the air reminded us that soon the cold winds would sweep through the plains and our city.
We stopped the car, I wanted to take a picture of you: I wanted to stop the clock, capture this second of eternity, your smile, the nice clothes you decided to wear on our special day…
In truth I should not be here to tell the tale, but this is what happened:
We kissed, a long, passionate kiss, I remember losing myself in that kiss, and I could hear my heart – or was it yours? Wherever you are now, you surely remember that feeling.
For soon I felt the pain, my skin being cut, so lightly, those sharp incisive, your beautiful white incisive…
Thus I became who I am now, and you are gone.
She’s a workaholic, always on the move, alert, unstoppable. To meet her is an experience, her smile contagious, and this feeling of a hard mind behind her long eyelashes. She travels, she comes to you, she’s punctual, the tools of her trade in her long bag, full of marvellous attires. One guesses her luggage contains more…
A committed professional she is, of the sort that cares only for business, really, while all the time making the customer feel he – mainly “he” – is important, and it works. For it is impossible not to like her, even admire her, her energy, her skills, at what amounts to seduction, of a very temporary type.
Here, there, everywhere, how does she maintain the balance, keep healthy, even glowing? She’s a sexy woman of character, her strength well hidden behind irresistible charm. Men are forgotten as quickly as won: she’s a model, much travelled, and fully booked.