Hanging on Clouds #writephoto

Fantasy, Romance

writephoto-22-feb

Hanging on Clouds (293 Words)

There are some ideas that can only be summed up by a picture. Telling the idea is never as good as the picture itself.

I wish that I could speak you a sunset, but you have to feel its warmth; I wish that I could speak to you the reflection of light on water, but you have to feel that light dazzle in your head. But it has been years since I saw a sunset, since I lost my eyes in the dragon fire that cost so many lives.

Some Things Never Change #writephoto

Fantasy, Humor

sanctuary

Some Things Never Change (167 Words)

It was a monument to the transitivity of things. Someone, somewhere, had made this structure of perfect smooth stone. It had survived wars and weather. It had survived its makers. That dome and those stairs had stood for hundreds upon hundreds of years, the cold shell of a memory.

“Cap’n!”

“Eh wha—”

Captain Ratt’s question was stifled by a face full of snow. The twin moles who had thrown the missile fell around each other laughing helplessly.

Planet Home

Fantasy, Romance

photo-20180205154613659

Planet Home (170 Words)

She only had an hour’s supply of oxygen left. Dr. Burroughs supposed she should be readying herself for the inevitable. She said a prayer and unbuckled an arm clasp she always wore on her missions.

“Come in,” she said, “please.”

Nothing happened.

“Come in?” she repeated. Somehow, she felt even more alone talking to that arm clasp than she had before.

“Kate?”

Fairy Leaf

Fantasy, Romance

cup

Fairy Leaf (198 Words)

“A teacup?” Edwina was surprised.

The fairy man watched her, shifting from first one foot to the other.

“It’s a very nice teacup,” said Edwina, trying to reassure him.

His iridescent wings quivered. “You like it?”

“Yes,” said Edwina. “I feel like Belle in ‘Beauty and the Beast.”

The fairy man snorted.

Roses in the Window #writephoto

Fantasy, Romance

winter-rose

Roses in the Window

When you see a window like this, you want one of several things. If you’re particularly dreaming, you want a fairy or a ghost. A fairy or a ghost should definitely be looking in just such a window, with the medieval ironwork and the glazed glass. If you are a high school student unfortunate enough to be force-fed Shakespeare, perhaps you think unwillingly of Romeo and Juliette—because there is a rose or two and roses and lovers go together, don’t they, like laundry and detergent or coffee and cream.

But if you are me and your picture is larger than a few inches wide, you’d see that the wall the vine clings to is rude and shabby. You’d see the bicycle leaning in the weeds and the patchy lawn. And you’d see that the man trimming the dead leaves is dressed in jeans and a worn-out comfortable shirt, a slim and relaxed-looking man with none of the flare or knock-out beauty of a photograph.