Visual Dare – Crumbling

Source Visual Dare

She couldn’t bear the shaving brush and foam on the bathroom windowsill, and his cologne still clung to the sweater gripped between her fingers. Martha buried her anguish within his scent and memories as she clutched his jumper to her face.

Six days was too long, far too long.

She shrugged his sweater over her head and ignored the cawing birds as they flocked beyond the cliffs. Their mournful cries served only to intensify her grief and choking sobs.

Two uniformed figures walked towards her; they’d known she’d still be there, down on the beach. Their gait slowed as the salty gale assailed them and their shoulders sagged. Black boots kicked the sand as they walked and as she watched behind her trembling fingers, the oldest removed his hat. Tears trickled and she knew what they’d say.

Six days was too long, far too long, and now – too late.

(149 Words)

Written for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare – One week, 150 words, one black-and-white photo that could spawn a hundred different stories.

Go take a look at the stories in her comments, each a different take on the picture above!

Visual Dare – Candid

Photo Source and Vis Dare

I remember childhood tinged with yellow. Fields behind my house, long grass with ox-eye daises teetering on the breeze and scratchy corn itching my back as I lay staring up at gold-edged clouds between pages.

Then there were rosy sunsets and flushed cheeks and hands clasped tight as first love blossomed.

I wished for bouquets of red roses and a white wedding dress. I wanted teal bed linen and seafoam walls, and trails of green ivy climbing the brickwork. I wanted pink wine and black coffee, and multi-coloured years, merging into the silver of growing old together.

But life’s palette will be never more than my crayon box colours as I rest in a lost, brambled corner of the field behind my childhood home. My bones are bleached by time and the sanguine pools beneath me long consumed by mother earth as my first love became last.

(147 Words) 

Written for Angela Goff’s Visual Dare – One week, 150 words, one black-and-white photo that could spawn a hundred different stories.

Go take a look at the stories in her comments, each a different take on the picture above!

Visual Dare: Voice

Photo Source

His stomach still turned even after they set foot on land. Nausea rose in waves and he held his hurting belly in his hands. His headache spread right into his eyes and reeled every time he tried to gaze past the dense thickness of bodies. Interminable days and nights squeezed below deck had stiffened him, and now his little legs could barely manage movement.  “It’s good. We’re safe, we’re safe…” he muttered over and over again. No one would ever try and steal his father away again.

His mother’s hand gripped his like a vice and noise overwhelmed him, but he tried to smile and ignore the anguished and tired cry that left his mother’s tight lips. He gazed through the crowd with sunblind, salt-stained eyes. “Where are they taking Papa?” But no one heard his desperate voice above the cacophony of fear and his mother’s hand slipped through his.

I haven’t writen Flash in a while, too busy editing, but this picture from Visual Dare spoke to me, especially with all the news features about European Refugees and Asylum Seekers. Just imagine, for a moment, being a small child escaping a country torn apart by war, dictatorial oppression, and/or religious extremism…then being rejected in the very place you hoped to find sanctuary…
If you’re interested this is a great article: 10 truths about Europe’s migrant crisis.

Please, also, take a look at the other stories, each is very different, but very powerful.

Visual Dare: Burden

Photo Source

It’s heavy, so heavy, a bone-crushing weight that sits squarely on his shoulders. It sleeps within his heart most days, but when it wakes – it screams at him in silence.

He works in the garden, tending, pruning and caring, the same as he does indoors. The wind whispers in the leaves and the soil warms his fingers as he works. He loses himself, out there beneath the sun, heat softly stroking his back.

Indoors, his heart threatens to explode within his ribs, his mind caught within the web of knowledge and his burden growing with every passing moment.

She smiles, and his heart swells and his eyes glisten. Today she knows who he is. Today, he grips her liver-spotted hand within his wrinkled fingers, and kisses her soft skin. He smiles back.

Tomorrow is another day, and he doesn’t know what it will hold. The weight sits heavy, and heart-breaking.

(150 words)

An entry for Visual Dare over at Angela Goff’s Anonymous Legacy…this picture spoke to me of my own father, and a burden of knowledge…

Check out the other stories…

Visual Dare: Precocious Spirit

Photo Source – Photo by Juliana Manara

Mists swirled and danced, and Qilaq kept moving despite the sugared ice flurries that numbed her nose. The road was long and she tightened her fingers around the wagon’s rope. Her arms burned, but her snowy white llama sat as still as could be. She moved steadfastly on, followed, as always, by her faithful animals.

A hawk swept by, disturbing the roiling mists, crying as it circled, “Keee-arr, keee-arr…follow, follow…”

Qilaq glanced up and grinned.

A tear slipped down her cheek, turning crystalline, and for a moment she paused. Her heart ached – especially where the bear’s claws had torn through so many layers – and sorrow filled her, but her journey was almost finished. The next life was within sight and as her spirit-guide, her beloved hawk, soared through the narrow mountain pass, Qilaq quickened her pace, heading for the light that beckoned her. Heading for Spring as her Winter passed.

(150 words)

 

I loved this picture as soon as I saw it and wanted to write…take a look at the other few tales over at Anonymous Legacy and Visual Dare.

Visual Dare: Enamoured

Source: Getty Images: by Constance Bannister Corp

Molly’s tangled mop of curls shook as she pirouetted beside the car. She jumped and twirled, and I couldn’t help but smile. She bounced and leaped with outstretched arms and balanced on her toes. Another spin with fingers extended, and then off balance, and she landed in a heap on the floor.

Giggles erupted and Molly gazed up at me. She rocked onto her feet and the glinting wheel hub caught her eye as she leaned against it to stand. Her fingerprints faded as she gazed at her reflection. Her mirror image grinned back and her delighted laugh rang out.

“Mummy, look, boo-ti-full me!”

“Yes, sweetheart, you’re beautiful, always beautiful.” My smile crinkled my eyes and warmed my soul. Tears prickled as her innocent recognition of beauty and confidence far surpassed my own, and I hoped it would last her lifetime.

(141 Words)

Enamour – verb: past participle: enamoured be filled with love for…

My first VisDare for Angela Goff in a while…go see the others, enjoy!

Visual Dare: Precarious

Photo Source: Anonymous Legacy Visual Dare

A thin line runs between safety and peril, a narrow path between hitting the right or the wrong note.
Sadie’s thumb throbbed as she stubbed it whilst closing the kitchen cupboard. She took a moment and cocooned it in her hand, clasped to her heart then she continued serving up dinner.
Sadie’s thumb rubbed up and down her arm as she held her arms across her chest, and watched Alec eat. Her eyes followed every mouthful and she studied his hands as he gripped his knife and fork.
Sadie’s thumb moved lightly across her lips as he pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. He smiled, and she scooped up his plate and hurried to the kitchen.
Sadie’s thumb tapped nervously on the edge of the sink as she rested for a moment, relief flooding her tension. Today she is safe.

(144 Words)

Written for Anonymous Legacy’s Visual Dare Week 25: Precarious.
Go look at the other great stories!

Visual Dare: Normalcy

Photo Source

Doris tightened her lips and clenched her buttocks as she strode purposefully forward, under her best town hat. 

The city was not the place for her. 

The bus ride was best forgotten, particularly the appalled gasps of revulsion when her goose evacuated his behind and shook his tail feathers. The marabou plumes on the chic lady’s hat shook with the same shivering rhythm, but for very different reasons, and they’d been politely ushered off to continue on foot. 

The goose followed with a surprisingly majestic gait, but his constant honking strengthened both her resolve and humiliation. She avoided bemused giggles and glanced up at the street sign before turning resolutely onto Main Street.   

Heavy, ornate signage, chandeliers and swirly scripted menus intimidated, but before she pushed through the doors with countryside naivety and offered up her fattened prize, she checked: roast goose and fois gras were still on the menu. 

(150 Words)

Written for Anonymous Legacy’s Visual Dare 14: Normalcy. 

How can you not write about this picture? 

Go and take a look at the other great entries!

Visual Dare: Secret

This piece continues from my last  Visual Dare – Emerging:

Photo Source

“You’re me?” My eyes adjusted in the dim light and I stared with incredulity at the girl who’d invaded my room. 

“Yes, time travel, future you” I stretched out my hand and she flinched as I brushed her fingers.

I let my older-self take my hand and our minds forged! I couldn’t help but smile.

“C’mon, we’re going to have some fun!” I paused for a split second as she got to her feet, marvelling at my own innocence, at the surprise and delight on my young face.

Then she pulled me through the frame and I stepped into the dark, alley. “Where are we going?”

We ran, hand in hand, and I pulled out my key. “Forget Narnia and the Secret Garden, and this is more exciting than going through the looking glass…” I turned the key in the ancient, oak door and silver moon-light lit up our faces… 

(150 Words)

This was written for Anonymous Legacy’s Visual Dare 7: Secret

Go and read the other great entries…

Visual Dare: Emerging

Photo Source: anonymouslegacy.blogspot.co.uk

I ran, trying not to trip over my skirts, and held the swinging lamp as steady as I could.

Staying at Aunt Louise’s stern home for the entire school holiday would be torture. So I lie on my bed and stared at the only interesting thing in the house.  

Not long now, excitement bubbled as I hurried down the cobbled corridor lit only by a narrow crescent moon.

I sighed and blew out the candle. The gilded frame and its mysterious, dark alleys sank into gloom. I turned, only twisting back when an unexpected bobbing light emanated across the room.

I reached the gilded frame set at the cul-de-sac, hitched up my skirt and stepped through and there I was, staring at my intrusion in amazement…

I jumped when the girl climbed through the frame…

“Don’t be scared!” I grinned at my younger self, “That boring summer isn’t boring anymore!”

(150 Words)

Written for Anonymous Legacy’s Visual Dare: 6. 

Take a look at the other entries.