Footprints – #writephoto

A revisiting of sorts

In response to Sue’s photo prompt.

“Hey Boss, have you seen what Mary’s been writing?”

“That footprints in the sand woman?”

“Yeah her”.  Jonah scratched his head and laughed.  “Did you have anything to do with it?  I know what you’re like, whispering in their ears like you care”

“Look, I never asked to get stuck on this planet ok, I never asked to be immortal and I certainly never asked to be anyone’s lord and saviour. He continued, quite vexed, “2500 years I’ve been here. I get bored.  Not once have those upstairs even bothered to so much as pop in and say ‘Good Job’ or  read one of my reports, I’m sorry”

“What did you do?”

“Ok so I popped into her dream and I gave it all that ‘I was carrying you ‘ business.  I also gave her cancer.”

“Boss, you’re such a dick.”

Time and time again #writephoto

Sue provides the picture, the rest is up to you!


Sue provides the picture, the rest is up to you!

I walked past your window today

with it’s sun bleached glass and flaking paint

memories of fingerprints and noses pressed against it

as seasons passed slowly one into the next


Laughter long passed into time remembered like yesterday

Words lost like summers past

but clear as day I hear your voice

closing the window and heading in for tea


I stand and wait now as I did then

light filtering through roses wild and untended

a warmth like summer sun

from the heart and hearth within


and as I walk away I recall too well

how time has taken its toll

but memories live on where we turn to dust

and in our hearts are carried until sunset

Out of the blue #writephoto

Just a thought or two on Sue’s photo prompt something that could be the start of something else


The cold waters dripped from his body as he stepped slowly towards the shore.    The sunrise peeked through the gathering clouds as he emerged from water to land, the rocks cold and hard beneath his feet.

Standing in the shallows he looked down at himself and then around at the world laid out before him.  All was quiet bar the sound of his breathing and the beating of his heart deep within his chest.  Surrounded by the still waters and unyielding earth he looked to the skies as the first rains began to fall.

He smiled instinctively as the drops of rain started to fall onto his skin, mixing with the waters from the lake, and the noise of rain falling onto the rock and water filled his senses.

Stepping onto the shore he reached down and placed a hand onto a smooth rock, whispered quietly to himself and watched a carpet of dark green grass spread before him dappled with small white flowers.

He smiled again.  There was much to do.

The light

Turner opened his eyes, sat slowly upright and looked around.  He was in a long corridor, a bright light shining from a door at one end.

In response to Sue Vincent’s Writephoto Challenge.  I misread or got confused or perhaps did not pay attention and thought it was 99 words only.  Oh well, I’ll stick with it anyway.

Turner opened his eyes, sat slowly upright and looked around.  He was in a long corridor, a bright light shining from a door at one end.

“Where am I?” he wondered getting to his feet feeling inexplicably compelled to walk towards the light.  He could hear singing.

Slowly he walked, reaching the door, and without knocking pushed it open revealing a tall bearded man in a long white robe.

“What the hell get out of my flat” The man shouted wildly pushing him out.  “Dorris you forgot to close the bloody door again” Turner heard him shout, shuffling away.



Salamar raised his hands to the sky, his eyes closed, mouthing incantations in a language long forgotten

In response to Sue Vincent’s Writephoto Challenge.  I will admit, I loved the photo but found this piece so hard to write.  I know where I wanted to go but I just could not really make it work in a way that I was satisfied with.  I don’t like binning stuff though, and may revisit it but I got it done in spite of myself.


Salamar raised his hands to the sky, his eyes closed, mouthing incantations in a language long forgotten.  Icy water swirled around his feet, the current pulling and tugging at his robes with silvery fingers.  The great waterfall boomed and thundered with echoes of the voices of the ancients now returned to the embrace of the earth as storm clouds began to gather, blotting out the sun..

He lowered his hands slowly and dropping a handful of lilies into the swirling waters he called upon the great water spirit to be revealed.  Long forgotten by all but the oldest of the stewards, and only summoned in the darkest of times, he spoke its many names and compelled it to be revealed.

The earth heaved and rumbled, the waters churning as Salamar continued his chant.  Foam horses reared atop the growing waves and the sky darkened and heavy rain began to fall.  Louder he chanted and the roar of the waterfall began to echo his call.  Man and water in unison, the noise built to a crescendo until, in a single moment, everything stopped.

The waterfall ceased to thunder, the rain stopped and Salamar stood still as the surging waters released their grip on him.  Slowly before his eyes the water gave way to the ancient creature, it’s body emerging from the dark waters as the storm clouds parted, shards of light causing the rippled waters to sparkle.

It raised itself from the water, the body of a snake and the head of a lion, but wholly covered with the most verdant lichen, moss and meadow grasses.

It slithered through the water across to Salamar, dark eyes fixed on him and small wildflowers bursting into life from its grassy mane as it swam, and stopped in the waters in front of him.

“Who summons me” came a voice like the rolling thunder as the waterfall again began to pound the rocks below, “who wakes me from my slumber?”

Salamar bowed his head in submission.  “Great Spirit, we call upon you in our time of need “ he said “The Darkness has once more returned as foretold.”

The spirit said nothing for what felt like forever.  “So it is time” it said calmly, it’s eyes fixed on Salamar. “The final days have come…”

Just don’t think its my thing.  I think this is though…

A generous portion of life – #Writephoto Challenge

For a while he lay there looking up at the light.  “It really is quite pretty” he thought, “I should get one like that for the hall at home.”

I’m cheating a tad on this and using it for 2 prompts.  I had the idea from Michelle’s writing prompt which I have decided to use to write about robots and such,  but it never really worked until I saw Sue’s photo prompt.

The first thought that went through Terence’s mind as he opened his eyes was “What a lovely light,  it almost feels like I’m underwater.”  This thought was soon followed by a second which considered why the devil he might be lying on the floor and a third one hot on the heels of the second which pondered where exactly he might be.

He attempted to move but nothing happened.  His eyes seemed to be working just fine but beyond that nothing else did what it was meant to. Not one thing.

“Well this is just no good” he said to himself, “this simply will not do at all.”

He strained again but still nothing.

For a while he lay there looking up at the light.  “It really is quite pretty” he thought, “I should get one like that for the hall at home.”

In an instant something about the word home triggered an explosion of memories and emotions inside of him.  He was suddenly overwhelmed by a lifetime of experiences flashing before his eyes, and it all started with her.  She was present in almost every thought and every memory.  She seemed to have been there from the very beginning but for some reason he could not recall her name.  He could feel her touch and he could hear her voice , and she was all at once a stranger and so very familiar.

There were children too, and grand children.  Birthdays, holidays, Christmas and so so much love and laughter.  There was a little house by the sea, and a dog that always barked when the gate creaked.  Memory after memory washed over him as he lay there looking at the ceiling, and as they flashed by she became older, yet no less beautiful.

In between the laughter there were tears, and the cold darkness of solitude and yet always the laughter and the love would return and each time he would see her smiling face.  A great sadness overcame him as he saw her laid to rest, her coffin laid into the ground on a cold grey day.  Terence lay quite still and enjoyed the intensity of each moment until, at last, he remembered how he got here, where he was and why he was looking at the ceiling.

And then there was nothing.

The Engineer crouched over Terence and ran a scanner across his forehead.  He spoke into a small receiver embedded in his grey coverall collar.

“Base 9, this is Henderson, I have found the synth and can confirm that shut down has completed.”

“And what is his Status?” came a response.

Henderson double checked the dial.  “I can confirm that the unit has reached end of life cycle and his memories have successfully downloaded to central.”

“Good work Henderson” came the response, “We will format the content and pass it onto the family, seems the owner’s kids were pretty fond of the unit and have asked for the memories.”

“Copy that.”


Something else perhaps?

Illusionary Dreams: Writing prompt 13/9/2017

The end of times

I tried to say goodbye.









Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Drawn to Sparrow’s not too distant chirps, snake slithered from his hole under the old oak, the summer sun warm on his scales.

Drawn to Sparrow’s not too distant chirps, snake slithered from his hole under the old oak, the summer sun warm on his scales.  “Sounds like trouble” he hissed to himself as he made his way through the meadow, the scent of wild flowers thick in the air.  “I do so enjoy the sound of distress.”

Through the long grass he wound his way alongside a trickling brook to a small thicket of trees where he came upon sparrow, sat on the ground at the foot of a broad, gnarled sycamore.   “Help me! Help Me!” she chirped.

“Oh sparrow” said snake, his little pink tongue flicking out as he spoke “whatever could be wrong that you would cause such a commotion?”

“It’s my egg” Sparrow said, most upset.  “It’s fallen out of the nest.”

Snake slithered a little closer “An egg you say?”  Snake did enjoy a good egg, they were quite delicious and sparrow eggs were a particular favourite of his.  “May I see your egg, sparrow?” He asked, moving closer still.

Sparrow did not trust snake one bit, and she most certainly did not like the sparkle his eyes as he approached her, his head swaying slowly from side to side.  “HELP” chirped sparrow loudly, spreading her wings over her egg “HELP, HELP!”

“Oh sparrow” said snake, his coils beginning to draw a circle around sparrow as she protected her egg, “you really should not fuss so, I only want a little peek.”

Sparrow reared up, wings flapping frantically. “No!” she chirped loudly, “Leave my egg alone you horrid snake.”

Snake eyed the small blue and brown speckled egg “Oh sparrow” he smiled hungrily “this is no time for name calling, I only want to take a little look.”

“You will eat it snake” sparrow replied “you’re a snake, and snakes eat eggs.  Every animal knows that.”

Snake inched closer and closer still.  “Dear sparrow, if that is my nature then surely you cannot blame me for wanting just a little look ” he replied.

Snake’s coils now completely encircled sparrow, and high up in the branches of the sycamore a chorus of frantic other chirps and cheeps joined those of sparrow.

“I ask only for a little look” Snake hissed and lunched forwards.  Sparrow Flapped frantically “Flee snake flee” she shouted “leave my egg be!”

Snake was now so close to sparrow’s egg she could almost taste it.  He lunged again with a hiss, tongue flicking out.  Sparrow flapped to avoid snake’s hungry mouth leaving the egg in full view of snake.

Snake was about to wrap his coils around the egg when there was a mighty rush of wind and a beating of wings, and in an instant large talons swept down and whisked him clean off the ground and into the air.  The birds in the trees chirped even more loudly.

Sparrow looked skywards as she settled back on the ground next to her egg to see the large silhouette of owl already disappearing into the distance with snake clutched firmly between her talons.

The birds in the sycamore chirped with delight.  “It’s Owl” they cried, “Owl has saved the day!”

A calm descended, sparrow remained with her egg and eventually owl returned, gliding silently through the green canopy of the wood and settling next to sparrow on the ground.

“Oh thank you owl!” said Sparrow gratefully, “whatever would I have done had you not rescued my egg.”

Owl blinked slowly, and quite gently picked up the egg.

“It is my pleasure” she said “but you really need to be more careful with your eggs.”

“I will owl, surely I will ” sparrow replied.

“Jolly good, jolly good” Owl continued, “now let’s get this egg back in your nest shall we, all this fuss does make one ever so tired and I would rather like to take a nap.”

Fancy something else?

Badger and Fox

Mouse and Sparrow


Written in response to Sue Vincent’s write photo challenge




Photo courtesy of winterseitler @ pixabay


End of days #writephoto challenge

Of life and death

Maleban the Elder stands alone, the last of his kind, remnant of all that was but that is no more.  His people are all gone now, returned to dust, and the final fiery moments of this world are his alone to witness.

A slow ascent into a hungry sun is his fate, and as proud custodian of the memories of a once glorious people he stands and calls upon his ancestors, the long forgotten ways of his people and the gods of old.

Eyes closed and arms wide he embraces the end of all days as lifetimes past, present and future disappear and are lost to the universe forever.

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

Want something different?  THIS is different and THIS is way different.  This is …well you probably shound’t read THIS

Brothers #writephoto

Before he knew it Sam had punched him squarely in the nose.  Tom fell to the floor  clutching his face

“I dare you!” Thomas urged, pushing his brother in the back.  “Go on, go in there – it’ll be fine, he isn’t home.”

Sam turned on his brother.  Thomas was always so quick to volunteer someone else when it came to doing something stupid. “You go, I’m not going in there mum will kill me if I get caught”

“Big baby” laughed Thomas, the sun reflecting off his mop of yellow hair “I don’t know what you’re so scared of!”

“Shut up” shouted Sam, pushing his brother in the chest “you go in there then if you’re so brave!”

“Don’t need to, I have nothing to prove.”  Thomas teased.  He was 2 years younger but already an inch taller than Sam and the scar above his eye was proof that he wasn’t one for caution.

“And I do?” Sam asked “I’m not going in there.  I’m not scared I just don’t want to.”

“No of course you aren’t” Thomas smirked.

“I swear Tom, you’re such an idiot.”

“If I am I’m an idiot who isn’t scared to go near old man Hopkins’ place!”

“You know what Tom” Sam replied, fists clenched.  “Call me scared again and I’m going to punch you in the mouth!”  This always happened – Tom would come up with some stupid game or dangerous idea then get everyone else to do it and wouldn’t shut up until something went wrong.  It always did.

“Ha!  I’m not scared of you Sam!” Tom teased, “You’re the scared one remember!”

Before he knew it Sam had punched him squarely in the nose.  Tom fell to the floor  clutching his face. “You absolute idiot Sam!” Tom roared, blood already trickling from his nose “why did you have to do that I was only joking!”  He wiped his nose of the back of his hand, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Shit sorry Tom” Sam said reaching out to help his brother up “I didn’t mean to do that, honest!”  He might be annoying but he was his little brother.

“Oh you swore!” Said Tom laughing, taking his brother’s hand “just you wait until I tell mum!”

“God Tom” Sam smiled, “you’re such an idiot!  How about we go in there together”

“Go on then, I’ll keep you safe” he grinned.  “Then we need to get home, mum will be worried if we’re late”


Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

The hidden depths of men.  Thursday photo prompt – Mask #writephoto

“All I really wanted to do was spend a bit more time down the pub and read a bit, but you should see my foxtrot, I’m not bad you know”

“If you ask me” Gerald insisted, “feelings are wholly overrated!”  He took a long slug from his beer and stared into the flames. “Jane is always wanting me to share things and open up, but that’s just not me you know” he continued.

“I always try and explain that to my wife” Thomas answered, placing more wood on the fire, “I tell her that I am just not that deep but she seems desperate for me to share some inner most thoughts.  I don’t really have any though.”.

Gerald nodded in agreement.  “You know, once I actually made some stuff up about me having some hidden pain in my past that I didn’t want to talk about”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“We were young, she was hot and I thought it might make me more interesting.”  He finished the beer and reached into the cool box for another.  “She always loved poetry and those arty films and stuff and I figured I might stand more of a chance if I pretended to have some inner demons.”

“Many things you are mate, but deep you are not.  Unless of course you count the love of beer and football and pies as something that makes you whimsical or brooding or whatever the hell it is she wants” Thomas laughed.

“I know, and now she’s forever wanting me to talk about stuff.  She even suggested I see somebody because she thinks I’m repressed.” Gerald said, scratching his head.  “Turns out I’m just not that interesting but 20 years into a marriage I’m not really sure what I can do.”

“So what’s set her off then, has she always been like this, you’ve not mentioned it before.”

Gerald waited before replying, he wasn’t really sure.  “Maybe with the kids being gone we have less things to distract us.  We had Elsie so quickly and the twins followed not long after.  I think she might be bored too.”

“Mate, that happened to us” Thomas said “I ended up taking dance classes with her and writing a travel blog because she thought we needed to enrich our lives more and enjoy the time we had together.”

“Did it work?”

“All I really wanted to do was spend a bit more time down the pub and read a bit, but you should see my foxtrot, I’m not bad you know”

The door to the house opened and Jane’s head popping through “Come on you two, I know you’re probably deep in conversation but dinner is ready.  You can come tell us what you’ve been talking about”



Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

Thursday photo prompt – Mask #writephoto