Thursday photo prompt: Returning #writephotohttps://scvincent.com/2021/01/21/thursday-photo-prompt-returning-writephoto/ He said he would return, and only the faithful understood, and waited. The doubters, the jokers, the cheaters were so confident. They laughed, and mocked those prostrate and grieving souls, in the churches... Then, one bright morning, he was there, standing tall, guarded by a legion of angels. The faithful rose, … Continue reading Return #writephoto
Resolve #3TC
Three Things Challenge #483 Her resolve he could read on her face, her beloved face. He knew they could not push her sideways, she had already decided their fate. Now she was checking her Glock. They did not stand a chance.
New #writephoto
“Of course you will die, when your time comes. For now, look at the star rising, feel the warmth, feel my hand on your shoulder, and don’t wallow in self-pity. I will come back when it is your turn…”
Overwhelmed by sorrow, he called for his guardian angel. She came at once, and took him to the cliff to watch the sunset, just the two of them. All at once calmed, reassured, he looked up to her smiling face: then she said: “I know, you feel lonely, but in truth you are lucky, you had more love than most mortals, and maybe you did not always deserve it…”
“Now is time for you to give grace, for your life, for the children you were given, for this sunrise… And for me to come to you, as I saw your distress.”
He felt on his knees, but she insisted he stood, side by side with her, and he felt her searching his mind, destroying the demons and the false hopes.
“Of course you will die, when your time comes. For now, look at the star rising, feel…
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The Tower… #writephoto
“… 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.”
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…
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Gold #writephoto
I tried to imagine what predators might roam those hills.
Inspired by Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt
I followed the path, to the West, and toward the expanse of water visible on the horizon. The distance was deceptive, the path rose slowly, and, after a few hours walk, it became evident that I would not get to the shore much before sunset. The vegetation was sparse, and did not offer much shelter for the night. I tried to imagine what predators might roam those hills.
After another hour walking through coarse grass and bushes, I made it to the top of a small promontory, high above the sea. The sun was sinking fast on the horizon. It is then that I saw the bird: a wide-spanned eagle, I thought, almost immobile in the golden sunlight, expertly using the air currents to glide, observing, perhaps listening.
Although I was not alone, as the apparition of the eagle showed, I felt a deep loneliness:…
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Messenger #WritePhoto
When time comes I will welcome the Messenger, if not the message. After all, I had a long life.
Inspired by Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt
I know he will come, one day, or, better, one beautiful evening, a calm, unhurried flight punctuated, at dusk, by the black birds’ song, and, even, if I am lucky a nightingale’s.
They know me, they know I admire them, and they keep looking down at that fragile, elderly silhouette, on my walks. Time is soon, of that I have no doubt, for I have seen the signs. So, one of them, I am sure, will be the Messenger.
When time comes I will welcome the Messenger, if not the message. After all, I had a long life.
Decline
There is no regret, only memories, some bittersweet, some funny. He looks back and smiles, all the time listening to the breeze blowing through the bare branches of the trees. He sees the present, but his reality is in the past, although he no longer reads it as the past, rather as a possible future, … Continue reading Decline
Beneath #writephoto
Silent dwarves guard your precious luggage.
The ancient oak ponders unfathomable tales; near the bank, the shallow water reflects the evening sky. A little further the small stones shine, enticing: come to us, stranger, we are worth more than gold… Soon the sun will sink, behind the hills. You observe, immobile, waiting. Your steed, warped in your Lord’s colours, is as still as you. Silent dwarves guard your precious luggage. This is your land, and the lake is where lived the mage, he who knew how to read your future.
A little dusty place
He took a last look at the now empty apartment: between those walls he and his companion had spent some very happy hours, but also known doubts, and even fear. Times were changing, now was the right time to go home, to retrace their steps. Looking for his lost dream had been the goal, and … Continue reading A little dusty place
Choice #writephoto
We have to be cautious, the stones are slippery, a wrong move, we may end up in a past where we are lost, or even worse: in a future where we are enslaved.
It’s a narrow stream, on this side our present, on the other, the past, or an unknown future. What to chose? Staying here, where we are now, is not an option: sooner or later, but maybe much sooner, we have to step on those stones, make up our mind, and chose.
We have to be cautious, the stones are slippery, a wrong move, we may end up in a past where we are lost, or even worse: in a future where we are enslaved.
Of Glass & Paper 