Category Archives: #WritePhoto

Thursday photo prompt: Wicker #writephoto


Thursday photo prompt: Wicker #writephoto

Sue’s Rules:

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the place during the round-up.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  on Wednesday  each week,  and link back to the prompt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.

All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

Don’t talk back

By Teresa Smeigh 2019

Walking down the pathway Madge, Maisie and Mimi began arguing with Elinor, the head witch. The argument continued as the women made their way from village to village.

“If you three don’t stop arguing with me and between yourselves, I will turn you into something that cannot talk back to me.”

The women stared at her and continued complaining about their plight in life. They didn’t for one moment believe she could or would do anything about their complaints.

Days later their husbands were looking for them. They were nowhere to be found, but the strangest thing happened. Three figures of women showed up alongside the village road and made from twigs. They even sort of resembled Madge, Maisie, and Mimi. Elinore just smiled if anyone asked her if she had seen them.

**************

Tessa

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses, also a devout Christian

Author – http://www.finallyawriter.com (this blog contains my old work mostly although occasionally I do add something new here), new work is mainly on this blog http://www.tessacandoit.com

Thursday photo prompt: Shade #writephoto


Thursday photo prompt: Shade #writephoto

Sue’s Rules:

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the place during the round-up.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  on Wednesday  each week,  and link back to the prompt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.

All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

A Cemetary?

By Teresa Smeigh 2019

The bulldozers screeched to a halt and Mr. Ingalls yelled for the foreman of the job. “Please turn off your engines. I can’t hear myself think. Mr. Swanson where are you?”

“I am right here, what is your problem, Mr. Ingalls?”

“My problem is about to become your problem, sir! Call the historical society and find out who is in charge of old bones found during excavations.”

“What could you possibly mean?”

“Mr. Swanson, the bulldozers just broke through all these thick roots and pulled up bone fragments. It is obvious that these bones have been here for quite some time so we are going to have to bring in the historical society and a specialist to look at them before you go any further with your project.”

“I won’t allow you to stop my project. The housing development must go on. I have a deadline.”

“You also have a missing wife from many long years ago. This project is not going anywhere, anytime soon sir.”

“Marty please call the police,” Mr. Ingalls said. “They need to be advised as well. This could very well be the body of the missing Mrs. Annalise Swanson. We need to find out just how old these bones really are. Those roots have been growing for many years at least, they aren’t recent.”

George Swanson pulls a gun and tells everyone to stay back. “I’ll shoot if I have to.”

No one moves. George Swanson edges towards the bulldozer and indicates to the driver that he is to get off. With Swanson’s attention on the bulldozer, he doesn’t see the police drive up. No lights or sirens were used. Swanson climbs on the bulldozer and was swiftly surrounded by armed policemen.

“Throw down your weapon George,” the chief of police yells. “We don’t want to have to shoot you.”

George shoots and one of the rookies shoots him in the arm he was shooting with. The policemen rushed him and cuffed him. He was yelling he was in pain and wanted to be taken to the hospital.

“You’ll get there soon enough George,” the chief says. “It isn’t life-threatening. You have some explaining to do. Is it Annalise?”

“Oh bother, yes it is. She was just a nag. I couldn’t take it anymore. I set it up that she had taken off with another man she had been seeing and I killed them both and buried them out here. You’ll find two sets of bones.”

“Well, you are about to rot in jail for the rest of your life.”

**************

Tessa

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses, also a devout Christian

Author – http://www.finallyawriter.com (this blog contains my old work mostly although occasionally I do add something new here), new work is mainly on this blog http://www.tessacandoit.com

Thursday photo prompt: Shade #writephoto


Thursday photo prompt: Shade #writephoto

The Rules:

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the place during the round-up.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  on Wednesday  each week,  and link back to the prompt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.

All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

Disappearance

By Teresa Smeigh 2019

Roth was having a birthday party with all his school chums. He thought it was silly to have a party at his age, but his mother insisted, and you didn’t tell his mother no.

His mother had set up a schedule of several different types of games, some for the girls, some for the boys and some for both. She didn’t want anyone left out.

Roth was sulking and after saying hello to all of his guests he disappeared. His parents searched the grounds, calling out his name. There was no response.

The house was huge, and his parents gathered the servants together and had them start to search the house. When he hadn’t turned up there, his father took the servants and the gardeners and had them search the property. They had a huge property and it would take a while to search it. His father kept the search going while his mom told the guests that something had come up and that she had to send them home and so they took turns calling their parents to come get them.

Once the last guest had left, his mother who was now getting quite upset, joined the search. They were extending the search to the outer edges of the property which contained several lakes. Her worst fear concerned those lakes. Roth didn’t know how to swim and why he would be out here instead of at his party was concerning, but possibly true. As they approached the lakes, they saw something floating in one. His father dived into the water and headed for what appeared to be a body. Turning it over he realized it was just a large stump floating there. Relief momentarily flooded him, but then he became terrified again. Where was his son?

They all headed back to the house and there on the front lawn eating his birthday cake, was Roth. “Where have you been,” his mother and father shouted.

“In the secret room grandpa had showed me before he died. I hide in there a lot.”

“Go to your room, we will have a long talk about this later after I help your mother and the maids clean up this mess and we decide how to punish you. You gave us a terrible scare.”

**************

Tessa

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses, also a devout Christian

Author – http://www.finallyawriter.com (this blog contains my old work mostly although occasionally I do add something new here), new work is mainly on this blog http://www.tessacandoit.com

Thursday photo prompt: Shade #writephoto


Thursday photo prompt: Shade #writephoto

The Rules:

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the place during the round-up.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  on Wednesday  each week,  and link back to the prompt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.

All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

Up to No Good

By Teresa Smeigh 2019

Mary stared out the window of the car as it sped down the road. She wondered if John was going to ask her out.  Why else was he taking her out for a ride during their lunch hour?

They had brought their lunches along with them and when they arrived at the area he had chosen; she was overwhelmed by all the silence and the green of the trees and bushes. There was even an old trough from when the horses had been kept there.

He pulled in and parked. Mary reached for her lunch bag, but John stopped her. “Aren’t we going to eat our lunches,” Mary hesitantly asked him.

“Actually not yet, I had something else in mind.”

“I have noticed that you were flirting with me and I thought we should talk about it. Are you interested in a relationship or not?”

“I like you, but just as a friend.”

“I don’t see it that way. Why were you flirting with me if you just wanted to be friends?”

“John please take me back to work.”

He reached over her and opened the door. He pushed her out and she landed on the ground. He closed the door and without giving her a chance to grab her purse, he peeled out of there leaving her all alone and far from the nearest paved road.

**************

Tessa

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses, also a devout Christian

Author – http://www.finallyawriter.com (this blog contains my old work mostly although occasionally I do add something new here), new work is mainly on this blog http://www.tessacandoit.com

Thursday photo prompt: Decisions #writephoto


Thursday photo prompt: Decisions #writephoto

The Rules:

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the place during the round-up.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  on Wednesday  each week,  and link back to the promt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.

All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

The Sun Shines Through

By Teresa Smeigh 2019

Sunset was still an hour or so away, but the sun was falling behind the trees and darkness was descending over the woods. Scott had been wandering listlessly around the woods all afternoon. He wasn’t feeling well and shouldn’t have been drinking while hiking. He had gotten off the beaten path and had no idea where he was.

He hadn’t started this hike out on his own. His girlfriend had been with him and she was tired of his constant drinking. His backpack must have been full of beer although by the 2nd one it was surely warm. He didn’t care. Susie was royally angry at him for drinking at all, so she had simply left him alone and went off somewhere else. He briefly wondered if she was as lost as he was, but probably not since she wasn’t drinking and was clear-headed.

He came upon a spot in the woods where the setting sun was shining through the trees and you could see it was a grassy area, which is unusual in such a wooded area. He headed towards the grass and took a seat against one of the trees. He needed to rest and think about how to get out of this mess. He didn’t want to spend the night out here. It gets cold at night. He didn’t want to think about the wild animals that might be out there.

Watching the sun as it was dropping lower towards setting for the night, Scott wished he had some food. He had packed all that beer, but only a few nutrition bars, one of which Susie had eaten earlier and one that he had eaten around mid-afternoon. There was no more food in his pack. He reached for another beer. He wanted to drown his sorrows. His hands came across the knife he had packed just in case he needed it. He took it out as night was fast approaching.

Jerking awake at a sound, he saw a wolf standing in front of him. He reached for the knife and lunged at it plunging the knife into its chest. It shrieked and fell. Scott thought that was a weird sound for a wolf. He shook his head and tried to clear it.

There was a little bit of light left from the setting sun and with horror he realized it was Susie he had stabbed in the chest and she was lying still, blood pouring out of her. Her last words were, “Scott, how could you?”

“Susie? Oh no, talk to me.”

Scott in his sorrow and drunkenness took the knife and stabbed himself in the neck. As the blood spurted out, mixing with Susie’s, he fell over onto her body and laid still. The sun set finally.

**************

Tessa

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses, also a devout Christian

Author – http://www.finallyawriter.com (this blog contains my old work mostly although occasionally I do add something new here), new work is mainly on this blog http://www.tessacandoit.com

Thursday photo prompt: Decisions #writephoto


Thursday photo prompt: Decisions #writephoto

The Rules:

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the place during the round-up.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  on Wednesday  each week,  and link back to the promt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.

All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

This Way or That Way?

By Teresa Smeigh 2019

Oceans and oceans of green grass as far as the eye could see. Way off in the distance copses of trees could be seen, but it was a long walk before they got that far. Sandy’s hiking boots were hurting her feet as they were brand new for this trip. Ron was walking fast and constantly reminding her to hurry as they needed to get to some cover for the night as he would rather not set up the tent in the meadow which was filled with stinging nettles here and there.

Sandy wasn’t sure about this spending the night in a tent idea either. Her feet were getting worse, blisters were forming. Why couldn’t they camp closer to home. Why this God forsaken place was beyond her.

Ron looked over his shoulder at her and yelled,” Hurry up and catch up to me. I would like to talk to you, not myself.” This was a crazy idea obviously. He figured she had camped before and they would spend a couple of days roughing it. Ha! He was going to spend a couple of days listening to her griping non-stop instead unless…

Looking around he looked for some idea of where they were and spotted a signpost in the middle of nowhere. The sign noted that a few villages were a couple of miles away. Maybe they should just head there so he didn’t have to listen to anymore griping from Sandy.

Slowly an idea began to form. He still wanted to camp. There was a copse of trees close by and he headed in that direction tuning out Sandy completely. She just continued to mutter to herself while following behind him.

Reaching the trees, he headed in and looked around. The area looked desolate and should work for his purposes.

“Sandy, I think we can set up camp here. No more walking. You can take those boots off now. You don’t need them to set up a tent.” He would use her to help him set up the campsite and then see if she stops complaining or not.

“Finally,” she yelled at him peevishly. This has got to be the absolute worse idea in the world for a few days of fun.

Once everything was set up, he asked her to start cooking dinner. She just looked at him helplessly. “Cook on what? There is no stove here.”

“Over the fire I just built, you ninny!” This isn’t going to work, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to handle several days of this.

He picked up a large limb from the wood pile he had collected. He told her to get the cooking supplies out of the pack and as she turned to comply, he whacked her over the head knocking her out. Checking her pulse, he found none, so there was no need to hit her again.

He found the shovel and started to dig a large hole, big enough for a body, away from the camp. Finishing up he dumped her in with her boots following and covered up her grave.

He spent several days there relishing the peace and quiet and then packed up to leave. He made sure there were no signs of her or the grave he had dug. Throwing brush and stuff over the grave gave it an added measure of not being found by humans. Animals were a different story. He would be long gone, and no one knew where they had camped anyhow since they didn’t plan a route.

Heading back to town he whistled a happy tune. He saw a fellow hiker approaching and stopped to chat. The girl was going the same way as he was and joined him for the rest of the hike. Once in town he told Sandy’s friends that she had gone off on her own that very first day since she didn’t want to camp. He’d check on her later he told them.

**************

Sorry this ended up longer than I was planning on.

Tessa

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses, also a devout Christian

Author – http://www.finallyawriter.com (this blog contains my old work mostly although occasionally I do add something new here), new work is mainly on this blog http://www.tessacandoit.com

Thursday photo prompt: Threshold #writephoto


Thursday photo prompt: Threshold #writephoto

The Rules:

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the place during the round-up.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  on Wednesday  each week,  and link back to the promt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.

All posts will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

Lights Out!

by Teresa Smeigh 2019

In the distance Sandy could see light. Although she was weak from being held without food or water for days, her mind could still work. Light had to mean the exit was that way. Her main problem now was how to get out of there. She hadn’t seen a single person since the man had left her there tied to a huge ship’s anchor. She knew it was several days ago as the light came and went, but she lost count.

She tried to remember how she had gotten here and in this position. She remembered there was a man who had approached her on the beach and wanted to show her something in the cave. Like a fool she had followed him, and he had knocked her out and when she woke up, she was tied to this anchor.

She thought she was dreaming as she heard a little girl’s voice singing, and it was coming closer. When the little girl came into view, Sandy hollered at her to go get help. The little girl eyed her for a while and then said, “okay I will get my daddy to help you.” She left, skipping happily out of the cave.

After a bit she heard the little girl’s voice again. As she came into view, she was holding the hand of a man and said, “in here daddy.”

Sandy relaxed and thought her troubles were over. As her eyes traveled over the man, she recognized him as the man who had knocked her out and tied her up. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Tessa

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses, also a devout Christian

Author – http://www.finallyawriter.com (this blog contains my old work mostly although occasionally I do add something new here), new work is mainly on this blog http://www.tessacandoit.com