PHOTO PROMPT-Copyright-Melanie Greenwood
“What happened?” she asked through the window.
“Nothing.. dear” . The hesitation was apparent in my voice.
” Okay, i will wait” she said.
I knew i couldn’t hold much longer. The chairs opposite me were scattered. I was on the floor with my hand covering my head. The chairs were empty and so was my mind.
“It’s..it’s..”. Before i could complete she was beside me holding my hand. “it’s ok” she whispered, her words soothing the ache in me.
“My mind’s empty, i am blank ” i spit it out looking her way in tears.
She smiled. And in that moment i forgot the world existed.
PHOTO PROMPT Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
It’s said you cannot trap a heart in a place because only a heart has the freedom to roam the world freely.
And yet for Bala it was different. His heart was trapped in his room.
Every instrument there called out for him. They made him forget food, sleep even.
His friends and family wondered what good he was up to until, until the day he died.
One of his friend put up his composition on the internet.
It changed everything. It changed Music.
It created a Legacy.
Dana looked at the sky and however hard she tried, her eyes were transfixed there.
Four mighty majestic birds owned the sky creating patterns that made her spirit strong. As they maneuvered along the sky chasing each other and falling back, she felt a strange sense of feelings chase her own heart.
Little Dana looked at her brother who was watching them as well and wondered if even he felt what she was going through.
As the birds soared higher than her eyes could see and came down one last time she knew it had captured her spirit.
She knew she wanted to be the ones who flew them. She wondered what they called them.
Little did she knew she would be the first woman pilot to fly a fighter plane.
PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright-Björn Rudberg
“I want that” she said looking at this fantastic house covered by green. It wasn’t the angle the house was in or the way it was built, there was something about this house that made it difficult to describe.
I looked at her eyes and at that moment decided i would give anything to go away from this world and retreat there.
I couldn’t change a lot of things but i could change us.
It was her peace that was important.
Peace at the cost of happiness? Certainly.
I vowed we would run, literally too.
Temptation isn’t the art of the devil but the work of our minds.
“Why did you cut the statue father sent me?”
“I can’t answer you honestly dear , so i am not gonna answer at all!”
“Why?? You think i don’t have the right to know?”
“You do , but i don’t have the courage to tell it..”
“Speak the truth!”
“You father is a cruel man , he sent the statue of Lady Cintedarell , the woman i loved before they brutally killed her. The statue remainds me of her pain , her love for me and i couldn’t see her whole. I couldn’t destroy it because your father had commanded that it shouldn’t destroyed. I had no choice, i cut it into pieces.”
“My sorry…I didn’t know that.”
“Don’t be. We are but a captive of our own sorrow.”
PHOTO PROMPT Copyright -B. W. Beacham
“Why is the river dry?” asked my best friend when i was showing him my native-town. It had been a long time since he had visited here and i could see that he was shocked.
“Well u know..because..” i tried to hide off my now apparent sadness.
“Because what?” he asked. Determination was adamant in his voice. I knew i couldn’t escape.
“Because of the company!”
I hesitated a little , i didn’t know how to put it.
“Yours” i said , guilt with a mixture of anger obvious in my voice.