Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Dale Rogerson
love
Scotch-taped
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Ted Strutz
When another tragedy sneaked its way into her already fractured world, she tried to pick up all the pieces and hold them together with a scotch tape. It held remarkably well for the longest time.
World moved on at its usual pace and she fell behind. With time she mastered the smiles of reassurement, avoiding those awkward moments when people ask you how you feel, hoping you wont break down in front of them.
Although the scotch tape still holds her together, few little pieces are irreversibly lost and she wonders when will it all fall apart.
For Irena…always and forever.
Elysium
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Gah Learner
“Stay.”
His whisper caresses the scar on my neck, where my new C3 vertebra struggles to settle in. Doctors don’t miss the opportunity to point out how lucky I was. Sometimes I wish they failed to repair me.
Sigurd wishes my crew failed to repair the ship, but wishing is for fools, love-struck or any other kind. Every so often I wonder how our lives would turn if I was of a submissive sort.
He whispers “stay”, but we both know I am gone…long before I walk out that room.
The moon, my lover,
My one faithful companion
Welcomes my tired soul.
Voiceless
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Liz Young
By nature, I am a quiet person. It always felt almost absurd to yell or scream.
That changed when the nurse told me you died. Later I would find out the words of consolement were a lie, that you suffered and they failed to do everything they could.
Lying on a hospital bed, you looked like you fell asleep and that gave me a quantum of solace. But my strength is tested every day, in thousand insignificant ways.
Truthfully, it is not the loss I feel that is unbearable, but all the years that were stolen from you.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
Turn wheresoe’er I may,
By night or day.
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
—But there’s a Tree, of many, one,
A single field which I have looked upon,
Both of them speak of something that is gone;
The Pansy at my feet
Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
– William Wordsworth
I know you will always be by my side, because I will forever keep you in my heart.
From Afar
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Jellico’s Stationhouse
The soft afternoon light follows the shadows waltzing across the wall, like a lover following the one who offers only a heartbreak. Curtains part before a breeze that carries the fragrance of spring flowers and something long forgotten. The music sneaks around the old furniture, whimsically scattered across the room. Two entangled bodies reflect in the large mirror at the foot of the bed, offering a splendid portrait of wasted chances. A long-case clock in the corner mocks the thieves, as the stolen time slips away.
His arms hold me tight.
This wont last.
But I don’t care about tomorrow.
Loré de Orne
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Sandra Crook
“You’ve never been to France? Then why did you give her that name? Loré…it is such a strange name.”
My mother was rarely fazed by unkind questions.
It was a special talent of hers, a secret weapon that she passed down to me, this ability to ignore rudeness and shush people with just a smile.
“Because she is a ray of light and a splash of color in the murkiness of my life.”
Years later she held me close and whispered in my ear: “You saved me, my little sunshine.”
I wish I could have done more.
How To Do The Ignore
Presenting the master!!!
Of many talents that Berta just refuses to show to me, one she is very proud of. Somehow she mastered the ignoring technic, refusing to look at me when I am trying to take a photo of her.
Look at her…it can’t all be the coincidence, right?
But to be fair, sometimes she takes pity on me and gives me her adorable smiles…or at least a side-eye.
Just a bit of silliness for Monday…weekend is too far away.
Silliness
Another month of Monochrome Madness Challenge brings us a fresh theme, this time it is all about Movement.
As many of you with furry friends know, it is almost impossible to capture a quality image when they run and play. It is always blurry, parts of their bodies are missing from the frame, or you end up with dozen of images of their tails. So, I might say I was lucky with this shoot. It is such a silly image, but at the same time the most accurate representation of her character – always a rascal, always seeking attention.
If she could speak, I imagine she would say something like: “Here I am, here! Don’t you worry, my silly human.” or “Whatchadoin?” 😀
For additional monochrome images, visit Leanne Cole’s blog Leanne Cole PHOTOGRAPHY, where every Wednesday she hosts The Monochrome Madness Challenge.
Many Shades of Love
Recently a colleague said to me something that made me think about our perception of the world around us and our readiness to be the judge and jury in other people’s life.
“I don’t understand how people can have dogs, instead of children.”
How to respond to that? How to stop yourself from saying something rude? How to transfer your anger into sadness for the pitifull, narrow view their life offers?
Few years ago I had a conversation with my neighbour on a similar subject. We were exchanging our experiences about complete strangers insulting us on the street, saying we should walk the children, not the dogs, which by he way happens to me too often. I’ll never forget what she said to me.
“They don’t know me. They don’t know that I lost my child few years ago. They don’t know how their words carved another wound in my heart.”
Why are we so quick to judge other people’s choices, when most of the time there was no choice to make? This “dog” issue I am talking about is such a trivial thing, compared to real problems people face every day. Why is it so hard to accept and tolerate diversity? Race, gender, sexual orientation (or rather nature), religion…how dare anyone demand their way is the only way?
There are many shades of love in my life. Family, friends, places, even things…This image is another shade of love to me…It is not more, it is not less, it is just that…love.
As usual, for additional monochrome images, visit Leanne Cole’s blog Leanne Cole PHOTOGRAPHY, where every Wednesday she hosts Monochrome Madness Challenge.
Exploding Suns
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wissof-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – The Reclining Gentleman
“Mom, what is this flower?”
“It is a daffodil, my darling.”
You were my sun, my brightest star.
“Why is it yellow?”
“It is so the bees can find it easily.”
You were the center of my galaxy and my every breath revolved around you.
“Can we bring it home?”
“No, honey. It would wither and die without its roots.”
I don’t plant daffodils anymore. They remind me of your blinding light.
Spinning in this darkness, I long for a black hole to swallow me. Because, everything is better than watching exploding suns bending my universe.
A new issue of Dynamic Range, a magazine featuring women photographers, is out today. It also features my article The History of Women Photographers, third in an ongoing series.
You can buy this and past issues or you can subscribe to Dynamic Range Magazine for one year on Leanne Cole’s page:
Snow's Fissures and Fractures 