Tag Archives: #writephoto

Ahead – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

“Let’s stop here,” Merla said.

We were slightly off of the well-worn path and hidden from most directions.  The trail had taken a high ridge, for visibility I was sure, but our path to the side was nearly invisible.  In ways it was risky.  If we couldn’t be seen, we ourselves wouldn’t be able to see those approaching.  But then we decided that, I, who by reputation could hear an ant walking from a kilometer away, would be able detect anyone who approached.  Where my ears left off, my nose picked up.  Friends and enemies both said I could smell danger, whether to face it head on or run from it depended on who was talking.

It was just a short rest to take a little food.  I knew Merla also wanted to plan our next step.  I watched her and let her think.  It was pleasant watching Merla, but I also had to think about how we were sitting in this most unlikely, and very dangerous, spot, just the two of us. Continue reading


Arch – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

No color or chroma reaches my night-dead eye.  The sun sets over the ruined cathedral.  And there is me, awake again, hanging in the middle, with the ghosts of the past on one side and the shadows of the future on the other, dangling between history and destiny, on this arch of time.

The hollow, no longer hallow, walls stretch above me, the marble has been stripped away, revealing broken brick and rubble.

Entering through my secret door, I taste the evening, taste her, taste the world, the world of the everlasting Now.

I walk through the cathedral, once the place of long forgotten saints and archbishops, of king and peasant long turned to dust.  I can still see their faces on the crumbling walls.

How the mighty have fallen, the holy rotted.  Continue reading

Dark – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

With no wizard’s light to guide us, we ran through the darkness.  Occasionally a great leap of fire was reflected on the dark stone, casting an evil red glare across our party, but mostly we moved through a black so deep it seemed a physical force.  On we went, stubbing toes and scuffing hands as we ran in pitch black.

“I see light,” the sharp eyed elf yelled.  “Daylight!”

We ran faster, though us mere mortals could see naught.  I bumped into a man, a common occurrence in this mad dash.  But then something amazing happened.  I could make out his form.  In a few more steps, I too could see the cool blue daylight.  We might make it!

There were guards at the entrance, but they were expecting an attack from the outside, not one from within.  We swept them away without an injury on our part and pushed out into the open. Continue reading

Dusk – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

I hated to do it, but I had to get up and stretch.  After sitting for hours I was getting pretty stiff.  I was afraid, though I knew he’d forgive me if I missed him.  My sister, Martha, gave me a look that was both questioning and understanding.  It had been a very long day.

The sky was just beginning to catch the evening fire as I walked out of the back door.  I went to the edge of the yard, stopped and watched as the sun dipped towards the lake.

I had forgotten how beautiful it was around Mom and Dad’s house.

Memories of my childhood came back.  Playing in the fields just behind my parent’s house.  Swims in the lake.  Hikes in the hills.  I remembered the forts in the woods I made and lazy rainy days watching out of the window.

Dad and I had a major falling out when I was in my early 20s.  It was funny, I couldn’t ever remember exactly what it was about, but the resentments lingered.  As his sunset years approached, I reached out, tentatively at first.  We started to meet over at Martha’s house and last summer he had stayed with me. Continue reading

Between – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

I had no idea where we were.  Sami, who was our impromptu navigator, said we were someplace southwest of Paris.  We had avoided the big cities.  Actually, we even avoided the villages.  We were afraid we would be sent back, sent back to death.

We had passed through field after field of yellow flowers.  Rasha told us that they were rapeseed.  She is the smartest of us and had been a Uni professor when the University was still in session, before it had been made into a rebel base and bombed.

A little dirt access road ran between two rapeseed fields.  The sun was high and there wasn’t a soul in sight.  We decided to take a break and have lunch.

It was a beautiful place, so full of peace.  I said that I wished we could stop here and live in these fields forever.  Everyone laughed. Continue reading

Sanctuary, Part 2 – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

I walked slowly through the garden.  It was greatly reduced from the grand, wild place it had been when I was a child.  Most of the whimseys had been removed, but the most important was still in place.

All of the land for miles in all directions had been owned by my father and our ancestors.  From a slight rise I could see the fields and houses through the trees.  Most were owned by the grandchildren and the great-grandchildren of people who had been my father’s servants.  There also many new comers, though most of those lived in town.

It had snowed earlier in the day, leaving a thin, white blanket over the land.  The branches of the trees still had a coating, causing the woods to appear as a magical fairyland of crystal. Continue reading

Sanctuary – #wriephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

When I heard the news, I went out to search for Lauren.  I did not know her well, but I did feel some responsibility.

From what I did know about Lauren, I figured that she would have gone into the park.  She so often disappeared there.  I occasionally saw her as I walked, playing make-believe amongst the more fantastical “Whimseys”.  She was shy, and tried to avoid me when she noticed that I was watching her.  I understood, and always left her alone, wishing that there was some way that I could approach her, that I could find a way to talk to the girl.  She was only about three years younger than me, perhaps 12 or 13, but she often acted like a small child.

I decided to go into the park to look for her, knowing nobody else would be looking out for her or searching for her.  It had been sunny earlier in the day, but I bundled up, putting on my great coat.  I could see the clouds and feel the damp that meant that snow was in the air. Continue reading

Shrine – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

We were rushed for time and the last thing I wanted to do was visit an old estate.  But I caught a quick glimpse through the hedge of giant manor and something pulled at me.  I had to stop.

“What are you doing?” Vish asked.  She’s our lead singer.

“I want to see if they allow public here.  You know, tours or anything.”

She rolled her eyes at me.

I understood.  We had a once in a lifetime opportunity, six UK concerts.  We rented some equipment and, after our London shows, we rented a “lorry”, though it looked like a small delivery truck to us.  The rest of the guys crammed into the truck and drove to the next gig, but Vish and I wanted to visit some of the great historical sites.  Places that we’d only dreamed about back in the States.  You might not think we’re the cultural type, but I could never pass up an opportunity to visit places that had been made famous by the Stones, The Kinks, The Sex Pistols, The Clash and other heroes.

Manor houses were definitely not on the list. Continue reading

Woodland – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

I crawled out of the wreckage of the emergency pod.  How had I survived?  I couldn’t see any signs of other parts of the ship.  I shouldn’t have been surprised.  At a quarter of the speed of light it would have hit the star around a half an hour after I had ejected.  If it had hit this planet at that speed, well, there wouldn’t have been much left standing.

For the first time I realized I had no suit on, that I was in the open.  I briefly panicked, but then calmed down.  If I wasn’t dead yet, I figured, I shouldn’t worry.  Luckily the atmosphere had plenty of oxygen, so I could breathe unaided.

I looked around, taking my bearings.

I was in some sort of woodland, not too different from how Home must have looked thousands of years ago.  My heart sank.  I knew that there had been no contact with this system, but I had hoped that there was intelligent life and perhaps even a civilization.  I was going to be stuck on the planet for quite a while, if not the rest of my life, and didn’t want to learn basic survival at this late stage.  Give me a good city with some cocktails over camping out any day. Continue reading

Distant #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

My father used to tell me that the stones in the small circle at the edge of the farm were the tolls that Gandalf turned to stone in Bilbo’s great adventure, and that the distant peaks were really the Misty Mountains.  I spent much of my youth tromping around looking for the troll’s hidden gold and running off to find Rivendell.  I am sure that this is what sparked my wanderlust.

I left home as soon as I was old enough and didn’t look back.  “The road goes ever on” I would say as I started each new journey.  I never tired of seeing a new vista, or an old one from a new angle.  The world is a magical place and I always have expected to discover a hidden valley were the elves still lived.

I once tried to settle down and I had a family, but when the road called, I was forced to leave them behind. Continue reading