Burntcore Week 77: Memories

Burntcore
Thursday


Picture 1

Picture 2


Burntcore's Choice: Both

Title:
Memories

As Alana went through the files in her grandparents’ desk, she found a stack of photographs she had never seen. They were mostly of her, but she couldn’t recall them actually being taken. Her grandparents always seemed to have a camera around when she was growing up, so it really shouldn’t have surprised her.

She must’ve been channelling Madonna when the one photo was taken. She was standing in her living room in a black tank top and black hat, somewhat reminiscent of Desperately Seeking Susan.

Sitting back on her heels, Alana reflected on how young she looked, and how different the world was then. Her grandparents were still alive. She wasn’t hearing things or seeing things. The world was at her feet.

Alana flipped to the next photograph, one that was clearly not her. She turned it over and in her grandmother’s neat handwriting was her mother’s name and a year, the year before Alana was born. Cecilia was standing on a pile of rocks on a beach, overlooking a vast body of water. Alana didn’t think it was the Atlantic Ocean, at least not around Maine.

She wondered if she would be able to track down the location of the picture. Perhaps doing so would allow her to find out more about her parents, about what they were like. Her grandparents had done a good job of telling Alana a lot about them, but there was always more to know.

Holding it close to her face, Alana tried to see if she could tell if Cecilia was wearing a spiral pendant. Disappointed, she couldn’t tell and put the photo down with the others.

KekahJ Week 77: Love

KekahJ
Wednesday






Picture 1


Picture 2

KekahJ's Choice: Picture 1

Title:



Love

She stared down at the small blue paper in her hand. The word looked up at her mockingly. If she hadn’t been so angry she would have taken the time to appreciate the intricate workmanship involved in crafting the paper. It really was amazing, she finally grudgingly admitted to herself. She allowed herself to wonder briefly about how he had done it. The words looked almost as if they had been burned into the paper, but she couldn’t figure out how. He had always been so creative and good with his hands.

It seemed so innocent. Just a tiny scrap of bright blue paper. It had fluttered lightly out of the envelope that had been stuck underneath her windshield wiper blade. She’d found it this morning when she came out to go to work. And to think, the morning had started out so promising. She’d actually managed to wake up, shower, and get ready without having a breakdown.

But now, as she stood here in the street, the blue paper lifting slightly and fluttering lightly in the cool breeze, she felt the panic swelling inside her. There was nothing else inside the envelope. No signature, no note of explanation, but she didn’t need one to know who it was from. She could almost smell him on the bright blue paper.

She clenched her fist in anger, crumpling the blue paper, ruining the amazingly intricate design. A sob that had been lodged in her throat escaped as a strangled, choking cry. She opened her hand and sobbed again as she saw that the paper was destroyed. It fell to the ground, now just an unremarkable blue lump.

With another anguished cry, she collapsed onto the ground, becoming as useless as the blue paper was now.

Jessypt Week 77: Through Amber Waves of Grain

Jessypt is our newest author to the Writing Photo Prompt blog. While she doesn't have an assigned day, she will pop in when needed through the week when our other authors aren't able to post. Destynee, our usual Tuesday prompt writer, is bogged down with school but hopes she can have a post up soon.
Meanwhile, here's Jessypt's prompt for today.


Picture


Title:
Through Amber Waves of Grain

The sun was just starting to set, and the air had turned cool. Maeve zipped up the front of her hoodie and waited. Her mind was whirling with what-ifs, and she couldn’t wait for Liam to get home.

She heard the rumble of his pickup before she saw it, and by the time he’d parked in the driveway she was on her feet, running down the stairs.

He climbed out of the pickup just in time to catch her in his arms.

“Woah, baby. I missed you, too,” he said through his laughter.

She wiggled and squirmed in her excitement, causing him to stumble backward and lose his balance. They toppled over and landed in a tangled mess of limbs and laughter in the tall grass beside the gravel road.

She climbed up on her knees, her cheeks pink from laughter, and grinned. “I’ve got news!”

He sat up, put his hands on her hips, and tugged her a little closer. With their faces level, he brushed his lips softly against hers. “Yeah?” he asked, his nose trailing along her jaw until he’d buried his face in her neck.

She nodded, relishing the feel of his lips against her skin. “Mmhmmm. Are you ready?” She pulled back and waited for his eyes to meet hers.

He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in question. “As ready as I’ll ever be-”

“I’m pregnant!” she blurted out before he could even finish.

His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. She watched the wave of emotions cross his face as he blinked a few times, processing what she’d just said, and then let out a surprised giggle as he leaned forward and attached his lips to hers. It was intense and demanding as he pushed his tongue inside her mouth. She met him full on, her tongue tangling with his in a moment of surprise and celebration.

A celebration of a new beginning.

A celebration of what they’d both long believed would never be possible for them.

As the sun cast a golden hue on the field around them, they lost themselves in each other. After all this time, after so many tries, finally, she had gotten pregnant.

When they parted, breathless, he couldn’t stop grinning.

“Really?” he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She nodded, her arms wrapping around the back of his neck. “Really.”

Kimmydonn Week 76: Reflection

Kimmydonn
Sunday


Picture 1


Picture 2

Kimmydonn's Choice: Picture 2

Title: Reflection

I pulled another cone from the tip of the conifer and began pulling the scales away one by one, shoving the plump seed I found in my mouth and letting the scale fall to the ground. A whisking sound accompanied the drifting litter as it brushed branches and needles.

A chickadee cried, making me freeze. Three warning trills? Something big and bad was headed this way. I rushed for my stash, dropping the cone. Running along a thin top-branch, I almost hesitated as the tip bent and dipped. Kicking myself mentally, I jumped, coasting down slightly, but easily catching a branch from the next tree in my paws and running down the trunk of the tree to the hole I’d found among its roots.

It had been two years since that squirrel had cursed me. In the first year I fell a lot from fear of heights. I was starting to move past that. I still didn’t know what magic had passed my soul through the camera lens and exchanged it with the squirrel’s. He’d been thrilled. I heard my own laugh, loud and clear as my body rose to standing, towering over me, and turned to leave. He had my life now — my wife, my job, my car. How did he know how to take it? Just by watching? We were close to the city here.

So why did that chickadee cry? A hare jumped through the clearing and I started chittering, cursing the stupid bird that had me jumping at rabbits. There were few predators active now that the snow had fallen. I’d be less active as the weeks passed, too, but there were still many cones I could stash.

My chittering echoed, and I stopped complaining, listening for the oddness I’d heard in it. A soft slushy sound. Then there was a growl, a huff, and snow spraying toward me. I dove into my hole and shivered in fear. Whatever it was, it was large.

I recognized barking and wondered if it could be just a dog. Peeking out of my hole, I saw them. They weren’t dogs but wolves, although they played the way dogs would. I tried to slow my normally rapid heart and fight the flight response that was so strong in this tiny body. I wouldn’t be of interest to them, and they were beautiful to watch.

So beautiful, I didn’t hear the hawk cry until the last moment.

Alby Mangroves Week 76: Reflection

Alby Mangroves
Saturday


Picture 1

Picture 2



Alby Mangroves's Choice: Picture 2

Title:Reflection

Sometimes, on days like this, even a woman with no past can become wistful.

The dividing line between the reality of the vibrant fall landscape and its watery doppelganger becomes insubstantial on such days.

The Sol Duc is as far removed from Biloxi as can be, but Alice can’t help wondering if she might have seen a sight like this with her natural-born eyes.

Would it have been more moving, or less?

Beside her, Jasper gives her a pulse of sympathy and his hand to hold.

He doesn’t remember what it was like to see with those old eyes, either.

Burntcore week 76: The Collector

Burntcore
Thursday


Picture 1


Picture 2

Burntcore's Choice: Both


Title:




The Collector

The people milled around the public courtyard mindlessly, swirling and stumbling like a pile a leaves in a breeze. I watched from my vantage point above them, invisible to all except the few that knew to look for me. Even the ones that knew would have a hard time. I liked it better this way. I was not meant to be known or be seen by humans.

A blonde woman in a black sweater walked by, looking up as she did. She smiled and continued on her way.

Melanie.

Melanie was one of the few that knew of me. I had inadvertenly revealed myself to her one night when I was attending my duties. Strangely, she was not afraid, saying only that if it was her time, I would not still be talking to her then offered me some coffee.

Me. Coffee.

I was floored. It had been a very long time since I had the pleasure of drinking coffee. My form took different nourisment now, something that coffee would never slake despite its pleasant taste.

I accepted Melanie’s invitation and found myself spending several hours with her in her kitchenette. She never asked about my “job” of which I was glad. The details of what I do were not for the mortal to hear.

While I tried to be disinterested, I found my eyes following Melanie as she walked away from me. Her hips swayed, intentionally I’m sure, as she moved. I may not have been mortal, but I was at one time, and it was hard to fight certain mortal urges.

I jumped down from the window sill I had been standing on and followed her. The people that walked the courtyard still had no concept of my presence. They just seemed to know that something was there, namely me, and avoided the area taken up by my form. Even if humans couldn’t see me, they sensed something was, something evil. It suited me just fine. I preferred not to be touched by humans or any mortal being unless I was collecting them.

Slowly, I allowed my prescence to be physically appareant. To most, they end up blaming themselves for being unobservant. Everyone but Melanie. She knew I was behind her.

Melanie opened the door to her apartment and left the door open for me, not that I needed the courtesy, but it was nice all the same. When I passed through the threshold of her home, she already had a cup of coffee waiting for me.

“You know me too well, Mel,” I said as I accepted the steaming cup from her.

She smiled and squeezed my arm. “Somebody has to, right?” She was the only person I had ever met since I took up this mantel that willingly touched me.

“Not really. Not many people want to know me,” I drawled.

“Well, I do,” she replied and sat down on the couch. “How has your day been?”

This is what I loved about Melanie. She treated me like any ordinary person, even though we both knew I wasn’t.

I sat on the floor and looked up at her. I would be sad when I would have to collect her. She was human, therefore mortal, and her time would come as it comes for all.

“It was another day like any other. I made my scheduled pick-ups and some emergency ones.”

“Are the emergency ones any different?”

“Just messier.”

She winced, at last a sign that she really did know what we were talking about. She was a sport, she never asked when her collection day would be, not that I could tell her anyway. Even I didn’t know. Ironically enough, I got my schedule of pick-ups each day … almost like a truck driver gets his route from his dispatcher. Except my dispatcher was The Dispatcher.

I finished my coffee and took our mugs into her kitchen. While I washed them, she turned the radio on. When I returned to the living room, her back was to me as she swayed to the music. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned into my embrace and we danced slowly together.

I wasn’t sure how I got this bit of providence, but she was the only person ever who did not shudder at my touch but yearned for it. It wasn’t my position but something about me that drew her in. Even when I was mortal, I had never felt as alive as I did now with this woman.

But she was mortal … and there would be a time when she wouldn’t. What would happen then? I sighed and enjoyed the time I had, all too familiar with how fleeting life was. No one lived that did not die, and I collected them all. After all, I was the Collector. I was Death.

KekahJ Week 76: Compelled

KekahJ
Wednesday

Picture 1

Picture 2

KekahJ's Choice: Picture 1

Title: Compelled

The sun was only just beginning the peek over the hilltop, but already the beach was full. There was the usual assortment: surfers hefting colorful boards over their shoulders as they sought to be the one to catch the perfect wave, runners in their skin tight spandex and cross-trainers pounding the damp sand in their quest for physical perfection, and the sun worshipers already splayed across huge towels as they oiled their skin and paid homage to their fiery god of the sky.

But none of these were what caught her eye as she gazed across the beach from her perch on the railing of the beach house’s wrap-around porch. It was the third morning she’d watched him, blond hair blown back as he ran along the beach with his dog. She smiled as he lobbed a stick into the water and the dog cantered into the foaming surf after it.

The first morning she’d been out on the porch by accident, simply retrieving the paper, when she’d noticed him running by. She was pretty sure he hadn’t even seen her, but somehow just watching him made her calmer. There was something about the lean muscles that rippled across his arms and chest as he ran. Something about the way his wavy blond hair moved in the breeze. Something about the almost musical laugh that seemed to come so easily. Watching him from a distance made her feel more relaxed than she’d felt in a long time.

The next morning she’d taken her coffee out to the porch, telling herself that she should watch at least one sunrise during her time at the beach. She’d been staying in her friend’s beach house for nearly a week and hadn’t seen the sun rise even once. So she’d taken a hot mug of coffee and planted herself on the porch. To her delight, he’d been there again and once more, something about him had intrigued her. She’d watched him from a distance for nearly forty minutes while he ran up and down the beach throwing a stick for the big brown lab that ran by his side. She’d even laughed when, at one point, he followed the dog into the surf and the pair of them swam and wrestled in the frothy water.

This morning, she had to face the fact that she had been drawn out onto the porch to try and see him again. Once more she’d felt oddly relieved when she saw him, as if she’d been unable to really breathe until that moment. There was a tiny voice inside her that was screaming that she was insane to feel that way. She’d never even spoken to him. He didn’t even know she existed; yet she couldn’t deny the effect he had on her, no matter how inexplicable it was. Watching him was like a calming balm to her anxious soul.

She could hear the dog’s excited barks from where she sat sipping her coffee, wrapping her hands around the mug, enjoying its warmth in the chill morning air. She sighed, reveling in the strange calm watching him brought her.

After a while, she leaned back against the clapboard siding, effortlessly balancing herself on the porch railing, and closed her eyes. The sun warmed her cheeks as it rose higher in the sky. Opening her eyes again, she scanned the beach. Where had he gone? Had he left and she’d missed it? There were now several other dogs loping along the sand, but none of them were the big floppy-eared chocolate lab that was his. Panic began to swell in her chest as she sat up, leaning forward on the railing, trying to get a better view of the beach.

She nearly lost her balance, almost pitched forward into the sand, when she felt the wet nose on the back of her leg. Startled, she turned and grinned when she came face to face with the big brown eyes and lolling tongue of the very chocolate lab she’d been searching for.

“JB!”

She turned to see him striding up the porch steps towards her. Her heart skipped a beat. He was even more gorgeous close-up.

“Sorry, JB, come on!” he said, patting his thigh in an attempt to get the dog’s attention.

But it was no use. The dog plopped down by her feet. She laughed and scratched his soft velvety ears. “Hey buddy, how’s it going?” she said, running her hand along the dog’s soft flank.

“He likes you,” the blond boy said, grinning at her.

She looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as she took in his brilliant smile. She cleared her throat self consciously and said, “He seems like a great dog.”

He nodded. “He is.” He paused, then stuck his hand out. “I’m Jasper, by the way.”

She grinned and clasped his hand, secretly loving the feel of his hand in hers. Like everything else about him, it somehow calmed her, and she suddenly craved more. “I’m Alice. Nice to meet you.” There was an awkward pause and then she added, “Do you want some coffee?” she asked.

“Sure, if you don’t mind. That’d be great.” He shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

A few minutes later, they were seated around the small whitewash table, both clutching steaming cups of coffee, JB curled around Jasper’s feet. They chatted, and Alice was surprised at how easily she opened up to him, telling him things that she normally kept private and guarded.

As she realized this, she became embarrassed, worried that she was being too forward. “I’m sorry,” she said, staring into her coffee. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I guess I just feel comfortable with you. Like I know you. Does that sound crazy?” She hazarded a glance at him, afraid of what she’d find in his expression. She was shocked to see him shaking his head, blond hair falling in his eyes.

“No, Alice. Don’t apologize. I know exactly what you mean. I find myself wanting to tell you everything about me too. I feel...” he faded off as he searched for the right word.

“Compelled.” The word was said in unison and they both grinned sheepishly at each other.

Alice didn’t know what the future held, but she was sure that she wanted Jasper to be a part of it.