Footprints #writephoto

Footprints

footprints

 

We love the long walks, along the shore, the closeness of the sea, the flying birds, the wet land and the immense skies. I watch your steps, the wind blowing your hair, I see you as one with the earth, the waves, the clouds.

I know we will be tired at the end of the day, and yet, we stop and watch: the reeds spelling their ancient story, the cries of seagulls, the bright colours of sand poppies.

For we know: once, long ago, we came from the sea, and our footprints in the wet sand just remind us of that long love story.

Bleak #writephoto

Bleak

glaston4-258

 

We walk, hand in hand, to the shore,

up to the small promontory, and we see our island:

it is cold today, but we don’t feel it.

Our bare feet slide over the rock,

Your empty eyes turn toward me, my love,

asking me, in silence,

if I am ready to start our voyage.

I smile, my frozen heart reaching yours,

for I know we belong there,

you and me, for ever, under the heavy stone,

below the chapel,

where once, long ago,

they burned us at the stake.

On a far away shore… #5words

Inspired by the Secret Keeper’s weekly writing prompt #109

Andromeda-yefremov-cover.jpg
Some time ago, when I was still convinced I’d win the battle for that first novel, I wrote a scene, on a distant planet, with my hero standing on the shore of a violet sea, as she comes face to face with a human being, as she, but travelling on a stretch of time merely parallel to hers. Writing this was a treat, as otherwise I was struggling in attempting to finish the story. It just flew effortlessly, from a mixture of memories of youth, and ancient reading. Unfathomable mysteries of inspiration…

Image: Fair use, Link – front cover art for the book Andromeda: A Space-Age Tale written by Ivan Yefremov. The book cover art copyright is believed to belong to the publisher, Foreign Language Publishing House, or the cover artist, N. Grishin.

Obelisk #writephoto

Thursday May 4

obelisk

 

I must have lost consciousness for a long time. I don’t remember who I am, I don’t know where I am. Was I travelling? Where did I start my journey?

I look up, alerted by the sound of waves. It is dusk. Is this desolate shore my final destination? On whose orders did I come here? Or have I just materialised here, from nowhere, other than a maddening nightmare?

I look up and see the obelisk, the sentinel… In my mind a message is forming: “You were expected long ago.” Expected? By whom? When? Was I on a mission? Have I failed?

On the horizon, the golden globe is sinking. Is this my world? Am I alone? I hear a low humming floating in the air. The temperature is quickly falling. The sound seems to be coming from the monolith…

Is this an alien world?

Shore #writephoto

shore

Inspired by Sue’s Thursday photo prompt, April 20

I opened my eyes, and immediately rehearsed the mission: locate the enemy’s base along this shore, and destroy it. Step by step I checked the multidimensional map, the weapons’ readiness list, and finally my own fitness stats. I was ready; I looked at the rollers, at the white foam forming at the top of the waves as they hit the blond sand. It was low tide. As I slowly walked towards the sea, my personal radar showed nothing. However I knew – somehow – that the enemy had many tricks in its repertoire. I scanned the water running at my feet, as drawn to the depths.

There, somewhere, was my target. I reran the film I was shown, shortly after my arrival, across the portal, when I was given my identity, and briefed on my mission. I had memorised the ugly shape, and the deadly traps that surrounded the structure… In fact I had memorised every detail I needed to help me achieve my goal.

I was now underwater, soon swimming expertly and invisibly from the surface. The gradient was a sharp drop in front of me, and I could see the rocky ground through the clear water. I just felt perfectly prepared for the mission: a sleek killing machine, well briefed and armed… and happily ignorant of her past.

Then the radar alarm in my ear buzzed: I was no longer alone…

Horizon #writephoto

horizon

 

I had to know, and I thought obscurity would help me to hide, retrace my steps, and find the wreckage. If they were any other survivors, someone might have left a message there?

From the walled garden, in the dim light of sunset, I followed the river, past the bridge, then on, along the bank to the estuary, and, finally, the beach. It was low tide, hesitantly I walked, from memory, toward the wreck. There was nothing, only the sound of small waves crashing on the dark rocks, and the far away cries of sea birds.

I paused, I may have walked too far, or, perhaps, the poor remnants of our craft had been washed away by the tide? I knew it was not plausible. After all I had been away only for two nights – or was it three? For the first time in days, I looked at my wrist, my watch had stopped, of course, it must have been the impact. The impact? Yes I remembered it well, the shock in my heart, the sudden spark of bright light…

I looked again around me, and I saw: something had changed, I had now perfect night vision, I could see the details of the shores, the small pebbles, the shells… I could hear too,  the small noises of the early night, voices…

I looked at my hands, at my arms, there was no trace of injuries, not even scratches, just the pale skin… Pale skin? But I had been on holiday, sun-bathing every day, how could I be so pale now?

I looked at the skies, soon the moon would appear behind the clouds. What time was it in this world?

Inspired by Thursday photo prompt – Horizon #writephoto