Inspired by KL Caley's prompt I thought I knew the place, the calm water, the sky, the well-maintained banks. Today no sound of a heavy barge to trouble the silence: but there, the solid reality of the bridge, and no human in sight. How could I have missed it before? Walking along this path it … Continue reading Bridge #Writephoto
Thursday photo prompt He painted on the large canvasses we now see in the Orangery Museum. A quiet man, who took the time to look at the light, the pale greens, the tender colours of the young plants. His garden is a spot for dreaming, thinking back to a time of peace. And then … Continue reading Painted #writephoto
Thursday Photoprompt From her hideout she could see that the water had receded: the shadow of the bridge was playing in the morning sunshine, the world was silent. Did the horror come from the sea, as in a Lovecraft story? Or did it wait for the high tide to reach its victims? She knew … Continue reading Bridge #Writephoto
She runs along the path, admiring the green edge of the canal: this is her territory, austere and silent, in the morning light. On the bank, the tall trees observe her, recognising her sombre and exquisite beauty. Soon she reaches the small bridge, where she seduces and kills her victims.
As I sit at the keyboard I hear your footsteps: you’re standing behind me, and I can feel the warmth of your smile. Turning towards you I see you are already wearing your running gear, the knee-length black leggings, the light blue t-shirt - o my. “C’mon jarhead, time to shake your bulk!” The sun … Continue reading Saturday morning