The Old Tower – #writephoto

Christa walked along the path way sullenly lost in her own thoughts. She’d been desperate for a child for years now, several doctors’ visits resulted in nothing, there was nothing wrong with her or her husband but yet years later and still no baby had appeared. Her husband had bought her a dog, whom she did adore but it hadn’t taken the yearning for a baby away. Then this morning he had hit her with the news that he would be working away, 6 weeks on, 3 weeks off. Well, how was that supposed to help her conceive?

Out on their usual morning walk, they had started to hear the strange mewling sound for what felt like miles, or rather, the dog had. Jess had pulled relentlessly to be let off her leash, not a habit that was entirely unusual but the relentlessness was. Eventually, Christa gave in leaned down and let Jess off but was not expecting her to take off with such a spirit. Crazy Dog, Christa laughed but when Jess showed no signs of slowing down she gave chase. As she ran after the crazy dog Christa became aware of the odd noise growing louder and louder.

High-pitched and piercing it permeated the air, her heart leapt when the sound became recognisable. It was a baby. Following Jess’s lead, she ran through a gap in the trees and then stopped to gaze up upon an old tower. Jess ignored her hesitation and was whining and scratching at the closed door at the base of the tower, but as Christa approached the door slowly opened.


I haven’t completed this story but already I quite like it already 🙂 What do you think will happen next?….

Originally written in response to Sue Vincent’s Writephoto prompt – Tower

Advertisements

Mask of the Gods – #Writephoto

Griffin stared at the dancing fire. Allowing its constant energised movement to fill his soul. He required as much energy as he could consume before the ceremony would begin. The mask in the pocket of the ceremonial robe felt like it was pulsing. Or was that the music? Or his pulse? It didn’t matter all sights and sounds merged to this one heightened moment.

Slowly those around him began to sing. Their voices low merged with the throbbing pulse that seemed to fill the air. Griffin tried to make out the words but nothing was coming through clear. It didn’t matter he only had to know his own words, the words that would change his life, the words that would bring his wife back to him. Even the thought of her made his entire body ache, he was desperate to bring her soul back to the earthly plane. He had traded empires to find the powers to do it, to find the Mask of the Gods. Mask fire image by Sue Vincent

He had never had faith in religion before, not in this day and age, when the zest for life, for living, was too strong to stop and thank some unknown God for it all, that hadn’t seemed to make sense. That all changed when his wife passed, he needed to understand, he needed a reason why he had survived when she hadn’t. He had been so lost in his sorrows he had hardly registered the stranger who had helped him home from the bar and told him of an ancient relic, a relic that had the power to bring back the dead.

Griffin had started to research, started to follow, started to obsess, maybe the world worked slightly differently than he had suspected, and maybe there wasn’t just the one god but the many, and maybe the gods made mistakes, just like humans? Griffin began to wonder if he was chasing the mask or if the mask was coming to him, but little by little the chances unfolded and he had grasped them. At first, it had seemed so unbelievable, the mask was in his hands. Then the agony began, waiting for the blood moon to perform the traditional ritual.

Suddenly the night filled with silence, the others voices had stopped and leader of the group lifted his arm and pointed at Griffin. Griffin froze to the spot. Now? He took the mask from his pocket lifting it slowly to his face and placing it on. He found the words slowly building inside him.

revertetur a morte, uxorem, audi vocem meam, veni ad me

                       Griffin closed his eyes behind the mask and repeated the words louder and louder. The crowd once again began to chant in a low voice. The throbbing sound grew and grew in the night. It felt like the forest around him had joined in the chant, birds singing, bats screeching, frogs croaking. All sending their summons out into the night.

All at once the sound of silence filled the air and only Griffin’s voice was now permeating the darkness. He hesitated to open his eyes but the group leader nodded into the night and with a little more confidence Griffin repeated the summons.

revertetur a morte, uxorem, audi vocem meam, veni ad me

        The flame grew higher, the light blinding, Griffin could no longer see the others in the circle. It was just him and the fire. It seemed to grow hotter and hotter until it was a burning white flame. Griffin’s throat grew so dry he had to break the chant to swallow. The light became so intense he had to shield his eyes. In that moment of solace, he heard a gasp from the crowd followed by an uncomfortable silence. He opened his eyes to see the form of his wife standing where there had just been flames.

He ran to her but she retracted before he could embrace her.

“Oh no, Griffin… What have you done?” her gasp filled the silence of the forest.


My response to Sue’s wonderful photo prompt. Couldn’t resist toying around with this photo, definitely something mysterious about it! I loved it. Managed to combine it with the daily prompt of traditions too. Obviously, all these ancient traditions, I made up! For those that want to know the bit in the thing Griffin chants is a bit of googled latin – “Return from the dead, My Wife, hear my summons, come to me” – or something along those lines. 🙂

If you want to give the prompt a go too, head over to Sue’s Page Thursday Photo Prompt – Mask – and join in the prompt. KL ❤

Nessie – #writephoto

She had left the house, tears streaming down her face once again. But she allowed no noise to escape. She would not feel weak, not feel helpless, allowing the noise to escape would be admitting defeat. She had held it all together, been holding it all together for months as business had got quieter and quieter. Who could blame the visitors, there had been nothing here for years. Sure it was a beautiful drive, and when the weather was hot you couldn’t help but want to be near the cool blue water of the loch.

Science. She could blame science. People no longer wanted to believe in magic, the supernatural, the unknown. When she was a child she had listened in wonder at the stories the grown-ups told, kids these days scoffed and headed to their phones to the internet, they forgot to enjoy the present. That magic could lift your heart just a little even if it wasn’t true. These days it seemed to be gone.

She lifted her legs heavily climbing up the hillside away from the loch. Away from her sleeping, snoring, drunken husband. She blamed him too. Once their little bar had been the busiest on the loch, people loved to stop in for a drink and a chat. She had loved it too, but as things grew quieter her husband’s patience had grown thin and when she could no longer offer him comfort he turned to the bottle. She’d never admit it, but that hurt her too.

She found the quiet place she was looking for and sat down, watching the slow moving fog above the loch. The sun was barely visible. What time was sunrise? She couldn’t remember, yet the darkness wasn’t carrying its usual weight, it felt fresh. The crisp cold air made her salty wet tears sting a little on her face, but she liked it. Reminded her to feel. As her eyes followed the lazy movement of the cloud a lump formed in the middle. She rubbed her eyes, certain the tears and tiredness had got to her, but when a second hump appeared she knew what she was seeing. What she always longed to see. Nessie.

twilight fog by Sue Vincent

She reached in her pocket and pulled out her mobile phone, her gaze never leaving the shadowed form amongst the fog. Lifting the phone high in front of her she swiped the little screen and the light of the camera came on. Drat! She knew having the flash on wouldn’t work so she pulled the little screen towards her to fumble with the setting, her heart now beating fast that the sight before her would disappear. Cautiously she clicked. Just to be certain she clicked again. Then before her very eyes, the two lumps disappeared, back down into the fog, back down into the loch, back to the legend.

She stood up and raced down the hillside, it was a sign, she knew it. A sign her struggle had been worth it. When people saw her photo they couldn’t not believe. What else could it be? Nessie.


My response to Sue’s wonderful photo prompt. Sorry Sue, couldn’t resist with this photo, definitely something mysterious about it! I loved it. 🙂

If you want to give the prompt a go too, head over to Sue’s Page Thursday Photo Prompt – Twilight #writephoto and join in the prompt. KL ❤

Circling Above – #writephoto

The sound woke me. My head throbbed as the screeching sounds pierced my brain. What was that? I blinked. The light above me scalded my pupils in the few seconds my eyes were open to the sunlight. In fact, as I lay there with my eyes closed

birds wings photo by Sue Vincent

I became aware that I could see the brightness through my eyelids. And the shadows moving beyond the closed veil. And the noise. The continuous noise continued to screech and echo inside my head. There was no way to block it.

I forced myself to open my eyes again. Longer this time. I had to figure out what was going on. As I looked up at the sky the black shadows moved above me, screeching, and swirling like dementors ready to suck out your soul, I had read about those in a book one time. When? I didn’t know.

With every effort I rolled over onto my stomach, the quick roll gave me a wider view of my surroundings. I was outside, on a picnic blanket, but with no picnic. Yet, I could tell I had been with someone. The fuzzy clouds in my brain parted just a little to offer me a filtered flashback of lying on our backs, looking up at the sky, talking, holding hands, did we kiss, or did I just want to kiss them? I wasn’t sure. Who? I shook my head trying to get a clearer picture of the fuzzy picture, any clue, a face, a name, but it was no use.

I forced myself to roll back over, I had to start moving but that small movement alone knocked the wind out of me and sent my head spinning again. Lying on my back I gave myself a countdown. On three I would sit up, regardless of the pain, I had to do this. I lay there and counted, watching the birds swirl above, then after the slow agonising account to 3. At that moment my world went black. Something had been placed over my head, and my arms had been pulled sharply against my back, my wrists held together buying something tight.

“Who is there?”, I asked but the only answer was the high-pitched cry from the birds. I was pulled to my feet, my arms feeling like they were being wrenched from their sockets, and an overwhelming dizziness struck me making me feel nauseous. The grip on my arm grew tighter and I was pushed forward into a walk.

“Where are you taking me I asked?” A low hollow laugh was the answer I was given as I was marched away, the echoing birdsong disappearing in the distance as I walked.


My response to Sue’s wonderful photo prompt. The start of something intriguing but I’m not quite sure where I am going with it. 🙂

If you want to give the prompt a go too, head over to Sue’s Page Thursday Photo Prompt – Wings #writephoto and join in the prompt. KL ❤

The Missing Sound

“What has keys but can’t listen to the beauty it unlocks? A piano” – Jarod Kintz

Piano Cover image by Mike Vore

The old piano lay soundless, covered and almost forgotten. I had hated the sight of it after Geoff’s passing, but I could not bear to part with it either. Sometimes as I sat in our little sunroom, I could imagine his fingers dancing merrily along the keys and the soft tune would escape the walls, drifting out to that sunroom entrancing me. It had been his thing. Tinkering away. Capturing his anger or his joy, in simple melodic tunes. I missed those moments. I missed those rhythms. Mostly, I missed Geoff.


My entry to this weeks FFfAW challenge – This week’s photo prompt is provided by Mike Vore. Thank you, Mike, for our photo prompt! 106 Words this week 😀 – the story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words).

Click on the frog to see more flash fiction inspired by this great image 🙂


 

Spring #writephoto

“Not only the thirsty seek the water, the water as well seeks the thirsty.” – Rumi

spring-image-by-sue-vincent

As I came across the small stream of water, my aching body looked up to the sky with thanks. Falling to my hands and knees I scooped the water into my mouth with a ferocious desperation that surprised me. I scooped and drank and scooped and drank until my belly ached then fell to the side of the spring. It had seemed to rise out of nowhere knowing the exact moment that I would need it.

I had never expected to find myself along this mountain trail but when I had heard that Elena had been moved I just knew I had to follow her. I had faced many dangers along the pathway travelling on my own as I was but the near desperation of thirst had far out-weighed all my fears. Just when I felt weakest I had stumbled upon the spring. As I lay on my back looking up at the sky I gave thanks, for this spring was surely a sign the gods were on my side and championing my quest to find her.


My response to Sue’s wonderful photo prompt. I’m not sure where I am going with this one this week but thought I’d give it a try anyway :). Maybe an opening for an adventure tale?

If you want to give the prompt a go too, head over to Sue’s Page Thursday Photo Prompt – Spring #writephoto and join in the prompt.KL ❤

Related to Royalty

I’m related to royalty you know… well, maybe not royalty but certainly gentry.

My mother told me all about it when I was just a young calf.

I was so excited picturing my gallant grandfather galloping through lands and conquering unknown territory.

As I explore around our lands I think of him, cow-image-by-majesticgoldenrosehe must have been tall and brave.

I keep any wandering peasants off our land – often it only takes a serious stare and they know they shouldn’t be there.

Sometimes a little charge towards them gives them the start they might need.

Sir Loin would be so proud of me.


My tongue-in-cheek entry to this weeks FFfAW challenge – This week’s photo prompt is provided by MajesticGoldenRose. Thank you!

Click on the frog to see more flash fiction inspired by this image 🙂