One's imagination is as unique as the body that holds it. I posted a stunning picture at Loud Whispers this weekend and asked people to just come up with a couple of sentences about it. What story did they see when they looked at it? What emotion did they feel?
The answers were amazing and some of the stories they came up with NEED to be told. I hope they will allow the picture to inspire them further.
I've decided to try it here. It doesn't matter if you're a reader, a writer, or just a fan of imagination. Don't hold back. Tell us a little about this picture:
SIS Barb aka Elle J Rossi
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13 comments:
I think of an angel caught between two forces. The fog symbolizes the struggle within his/her mind and emotions. The dense forest and earthly setting depicts to struggle is now and in the concrete place. I think definitely paranormal with spiritual elements. Way too much thought for not enough caffeine this morning. :-)
Great photo.
I see someone who's stuck in a place too small for her and needs to spread her wings and fly away.
Mary Jo,
That's good for having a lack of caffeine! Paranormal all the way. It just has so many possibilities.
Edie,
That place could be the confines of her own mind! Now that is something you can definitely build upon.
I'll try one...
The only thing worse than an angel with broken wings is a broken angel...
Surrounded my the misty morn
She cries because her soul is torn...
Great one, BJ!
Why is her soul torn?
In her pain, the Angel of Lacareco stopped to rest. The arrow had penetrated her leg. The shooter was usually a better shot, but her spirit had warned her. Stopping in mid flight it had hit her leg instead of her heart.
The mortal pain was nothing compared to the spiritual pain of being stopped by the unexpected. Darth Rohan wanted her gone from here. His plans would never survive if she kept saving the ones he wanted to eliminate.
But she was sent to protect the descendants of Motohall at any cost. They must triumph over the evil Darth Rohan. Her hand travel over the wound and the light from her fingers healed the abrasion.
“Go now,” the voice of the forest told her. “He moves onward and the heirs must journey swiftly to the Mountain of Peace.
Oh, Jordyn... (hands cupped around my mouth calling your name)
You've done it again. I'm super, super impressed. I read this small scene and I want to know more. Will she prevail? Will he? Will they find love in the midst of the war?
I think both pictures are the start of a new story. Keep sending me pictures, it's fun to write with just my senses and not knowing where I am going. Thank you, Elle
You got it, Jordyn! This is fun for me as well. It keeps the creative juices flowing and it inspires me to get this book done so I can move on to the next one.
The war was over. Whether Heaven or Hell had prevailed was unclear at the moment. Seraphina raised her head and slowly scanned the foggy, desolate forest surrounding her. A slow smile curled her lips as she rose to her feet, wings spreading wide as she took to the air. The battle for her soul had been won, and to the victor went the spoils.
Krys,
First off, I love the name Seraphina. It's actually very lovely. This is a great depiction of this picture. Complete opposite of how I see her. And that's why I love to do this!
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