For the visually challenged writer, the photo shows a man riding a bicycle in the bike lane in a large city.
He stood there for a long time watching them through the window. His grandchildren were gathered around the dinner table and enjoying the meal. His son and his wife were busy talking, probably about their jobs, and their young family. A fleeting moment of regret gripped his heart and a few tears flowed from his eyes.
With resolve showing in his cobalt blue eyes, he shook those regrets aside and got back on his bicycle, and headed back towards home. The Greyhound bus which he passed him on his way back reminded him of the numerous vacations they had taken as a family when his son was younger. Now the rift between him and his son was unbridgeable. He hadn’t met his daughter-in-law or grandchildren in a long time. The quarrel with his son had caused a blockage of family feelings, resulting in total estrangement.
Mathew wanted to reconcile with his son but he was afraid of rejection from him. Perhaps, he should show courage and ask for forgiveness from his son and his family. After all, he and his late wife were to be blamed for this situation.
He took out a cotton hanky and wiped his eyes. Perhaps he will visit them again tomorrow and this time he will knock on the doorand give the children the presents he had for them in his backpack.
For the visually challenged writer, the painting shows a young girl sitting on a bucket in her bedroom looking at her reflection in a full-length mirror. She seems to have a fashion magazine open on her lap. On the floor next to her left foot is a doll on and some make-up brushes.
She sits in front of the mirror and dreams, dreams
The bittersweet pain of growing into an adult seems imminent
A fever of desire grips her young heart and leads her
Into unknown territory, where she feels both empowered and impotent
Playing with dolls is a thing of the past, now it’s time to experiment
With different looks, different styles, makeup, and dresses
A new world is waiting for her but she feels apprehensive too
She may not be able to understand or navigate the kinky road of pronouns
She want the time to stop so that she can go back
And seek the reassuring hug of her mom and her words
For the visually challenged writer, the photo shows a large group of people, almost ghost-like, in a surreal, party-like setting.
The lights were behaving erratically, making his eyes hurt. He closed his eyes and applied pressure to the eyelid over his cornea in an attempt to ease the pain. The photons of energy behind his closed eyes felt like tiny thunderbolts.
The sight on the dance floor was very surreal, the shadows moving with a high velocity, and the scene looked like it was from a black and white movie, blown out of proportion to real life.
He felt that this was a historic occasion, where this new technology was being inaugurated and he and the few others present were privileged to be here. How else could he ever dream to experience this unique technology, wherepeople in shape of holograms were meeting, mingling and dancing with each other, without being in the same room.
Suddenly there was a loud blast and everything went dark. He could now hear screams of those trapped in the nebulous ether, unable to go back to where they belonged. The scientists failed to warn the participants that it wasn’t just their projected images that were here but a part of their physical form too. So that they could experience the physical touch too.
He turned towards the exit and quietly left the building. His job was done here.
March 20, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about shots fired. Where is this story taking place? Is there urgency or surprise? Who is there? What happens next? Go where the prompt leads!
The first salvo was fired under the guise of friendly advice, the pointy spindle hidden in the syrupy sweet advice, given presumably to ‘improve’ her habits and social graces.
Their evil was obscure, hiding in a whine and teary face.
She was no sleeping beauty, being exposed to these backstabbers since she was old enough to understand their hidden agenda. She’d rather they clobbered her on her head with their true intent, rather than poison her mind with sweet venom.
Indeed, foes in disguise of family were worse than an honest enemy.
The image for this week is a mixture of colours, possibly paint with shades of yellow, green, blue, grey and white on a black background. The image is cropped so that the drop appears as a semi-circle on the right of the image.
The spring equinox has always been a time of renewal for all life, andI especially enjoy the moderate temperatures and the colorful array of flowers that delight my sight whenever I go out.
I set up my easel and placing a blank canvas, proceed to mix colors, all the while my mind is busy in introspection on the meaning of life.
The swirling blues and greens help me meditate, awakening reflections that calm my agitated mind and peace replaces where there was chaos before.
My therapist is happy with my efforts and praises me for sticking to my art therapy.
It depicts three girls of different ages/heights dressed in pink and blue aprons and bakers’ caps. They are standing behind a table that displays a wedding cake, cupcakes, and various other baked goods.
It was time that the girls learned to live and behave like a family. They all came from different homes, and Joni and Sam were trying to create a serene balance in this newly created family!
Coming from foster homes, Joni and Sam thought that instead of having their own children, they’d adopt kids in need of a family and home from foster care.
The only thing standing in their way was the sarcastic attitude of Jane, the eldest girl. She’d endeavor to upset the other two girls perhaps because she felt insecure.
It was Joni who came up with the baking sale idea. The parents promised the kids that they could keep all the money they generated by sales, their only condition being that they wanted happy and smiling faces at the end of the day.
They considered it a success, when no one was hurt or maimed at the end of the day. They could see a few shy smiles passing in between the girls and were hopeful and happy.
It depicts an open appointment book/ organizer on a table. Pink flowers in a vase and a glass candy jar are also visible.
She journaled every day. There was little news that brought her any joy. War, death, famine, and the pestilence brought on by the unhygienic conditions people were forced to live in were what she was forced to record every day.
She dreamed of the day when she would write of the human conquest, its victory over all these hardships but day after day the only news was of these sorrowful events.
If she could, she would quit her job as the recorder of events but she didn’t have that luxury. She was bound to this duty as her ancestors were.
The only solution she saw was that by some miracle, these people would take control of their lives, make drastic changes to their lifestyles and finally overcome the obstacles in their way.
Maybe one day she will write about that glorious day too!
In response to FFFC # 208, hosted this week by Paula
It depicts a woman sitting on a bed in the dark with her back to us and a flash of electricity next to her. She faces a window where glowing planets are visible.
The commander said, “Lock this place down and I need every available unit to look for Rebecca. With her powers, it is vital that she is on our side rather than the enemy’s.
Rebecca was a gifted woman born with the ability to influence time and space. In front of her, the extraordinary seemed insipid, no matter how valiantly others try to underplay her powers. And in addition to her seismic powers, she also had a beautiful heart.
So where was she? And what were her plans? Nobody else knew that she had decided to go underground, for her powers not only put her in danger as the evil people wouldn’t stop at anything to make her do their bidding but it was also putting their world in grave danger.
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