Tag Archives: #writephoto

Sails – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part five of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

So I am now up to part six of the story and there is no end in sight.  All of these are written to Sue’s #writephoto prompts.  Here is part one and here is part two and then there was part three followed by part four.  Last week we hit part five.  OK, OK, I will create better navigation soon!

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I was surprised to discover that the council room was very small and paneled in wood.  When the door closed behind me, the only others still in the room were the wizard, Whindell, the king of the fair folk, and the daughter, Princess Alashina.  After the cavernous Throne Room, the council room was warm and cozy.

The king and Whindell immediately started to argue in a strange language.  At first I listened intently to the music of the fight.  They would soar up and twitter like piccolo before diving down to double bass and bassoons.  But even as music it was nonsense.  John Cage, in his wildest dreams, would never write something as riotously, randomly, cacophonous.

As I sat, being swayed by the mad music, I began to feel a bit vertigo.  I stood up and walked around the room.  To my surprise the walls were not plain, but hid shuttered windows.

It didn’t take me long to figure out how to open the shutters on one of the windows.  Once open, though, I shut it right away.

It couldn’t be right. Continue reading

Mask – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part five of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

— —

The guards ushered us into the throne room.  We were forced to our knees when we came before the king.  The king stood.  He had only been waist high when I saw him before, but he was now taller than me.  I am not gay, but I must say, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.  Fair folk was a very fitting word.

“Rawcliph, what brings you to my domain?” the king asked.

Rawcliph stood up and a guard pushed him back down.

“Well, your excellency, I have news,” the wizard said.  “Glumoric is awake and is planning on causing strife between your people and the humans.  He would like nothing better than an all-out war.”

“Do you think I don’t know this?” the king said.  “Glumoric sent an Emissary.  He reminded me that all of our problems were caused by your meddling.  We could very easily work behind the scenes and drive the humans into an all or nothing war, not against us but against themselves.  We need do nothing but wait and the world will be ours again, not just these musty old tunnels.” Continue reading

Messenger – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part four of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

— —

An ancient raven slowly beat its wings as it rose above the village.  Where was this?  I couldn’t figure it out.  For a moment I thought I saw Cate and Leo, only they were birds, not children.  It quickly grew hazy.  I heard voices and tried to make my way to them.  After a moment, I discovered that the way to the voices was as simple as opening my eyes.

At first I didn’t recognize my surroundings, but I soon realized that I was in the old underground cell, a prisoner of the dwarves.  I must have fallen asleep and had been dreaming.  And yet, I knew that Cate and Leo had been turned into birds and had escaped our prison to find help.

I glanced over at my companion, which was the source of the voices and did a double take.  The wizard was now twins.  Twins?  I looked closer and realized that the little man to the right was the magician I had been talking to, Whindell, while the other one was someone else. Continue reading

Peace – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part three of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous. Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

— —

I was sitting in the corner of the little prison waiting for the kids, my mind racing but getting nowhere, when I heard a cough.  I looked over and saw the old magician studying me.

“What do you know about the human-dwarf wars?” he asked.

“Dwarves are fiction,” I said.  I’m afraid I was a little irritable at the time.

He laughed.  “So those people who took you prisoner are fictional?  No, they are real and have been around even longer than humans.  Humans have known about them and call them many different names, some not so nice.  There are elves, leprechauns, wee people, gnomes, fairies, oh, a thousand more names, but they are all the same.  Different people see them different.  These particular folks, the ones holding us, just happen to be bearded, so you call them dwarfs or dwarves.” Continue reading

Flight – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part two of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

When I awoke, I was in a small rock chamber.  Wondering where the light was coming from, I realized that the walls were glowing.

“Come with us, human,” a dwarf said.  I was surrounded by dwarves.

I followed two of them out into a hall.  It was much bigger than the tunnel I had entered and I could actually walk normally.  I had a guard of a dozen of the tiny people.  The four in front of my all were carrying battle axes while the eight behind had long spears.  Well, they were long for them, being perhaps four and a half foot long.

We hadn’t been walking long when we entered a huge chamber.  It glowed a soft gold, which reminded me of a warm evening on a beautiful summer day.  At the front of the chamber sat a king.  His throne was elevated so that when I reached it, he was at eye level.

“Dad, Dad!”  I turned towards the familiar voices.  Cate and Leo were being escorted up to me as I stood in front of the king.

“Silence,” the king said.  He studied us for a moment.  “Humans.  The lookouts weren’t wrong.”

A dwarf standing behind the king whispered in his ear.

The king said, “You were caught trespassing in our domain.  What say you?”

“Trespassing?”  I asked.  “We were on my property.”

“Trespassing,” the king said.  “You had no right to enter the tunnel.  In fact, it is forbidden by the treaty of 3427 that any human should enter Dwarf sacred territory.  In return, no dwarf will enter a human structure.” Continue reading

The Tunnel – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

This is the first story of the “Towards the Light Series.  The Table Contents is here.

— — — —

“Dad!  Dad!”

Cate and Leo came running up to the back of the house, where I was doing chores.

“Whoa, calm down, what’s the rush?  Being chased by a hornet again?” I asked.

“Dwarves, Dad,” Leo said.  At eleven, he was Cate’s elder by two years and often the instigator in their little escapades.

“Dwarves?” I asked.

“Mmm-Hmm, Daddy,” Cate said.  “We saw them.  Four of ‘em.”

“Dwarves, like ‘Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho’ Snow White style, or dwarves like The Hobbit?”

“Snow White,” Cate yelled simultaneously with Leo yelling, “The Hobbit!”

“So, tell me a little about these dwarves that are part of cartoons and fantasy books.”

They looked at each other for a moment.  Cate nodded to Leo.  I hid my laugh.  They usually aren’t quite as transparent with their stories. Continue reading

Twilight – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

The trail was little used anymore, but it looked great.  I thought that having a guidebook from the early part of the 20th century would be useless, but soon discovered that little had changed in the last 100 years.  Of course, the trail brought me what I craved, solitude.

It was the second day out, just approaching twilight, and I knew I would soon have to stop for the night.  I hadn’t seen a building, nor even another living person, since early morning so I was fearing I’d have to brave the night under the stars. A light fog began to fill the low points, making finding some sort of shelter imperative.

And then I spotted the little cottage.

My knock was answered by the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.  She wasn’t young, and yet radiated youth.  She wasn’t old, yet I could feel the weight of deep wisdom.  I was frozen by the vision of loveliness.


Her words loosened my tongue.  “I am sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but I was wondering if you had a room that I could rent for the night.” Continue reading

Wings – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

“A group of crows is called a murder, who know.”

Melanie had an odd glint in her eye as she watched the large flock swirl around us.  The big black birds were gibbering, as if speaking to each other in their own secret language.

“Yes, I’ve heard that,” I said.  “Do they know something that we don’t?”

Melanie laughed.  “Of course they do.  Can’t you hear them whisper their threats and spells?”

“Whisper?  That racket is anything but whispering.”

She just smiled at me. Continue reading

Inside Out #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

After working with the raw materials of life in the charnel houses, I discovered that there was more to the state of being alive than the simple physical constructs of bones, tissue and organ.  However, try as I might, I could not place it.  Modern science had not given me the secret and my instruments did not give me the power to look deeply enough to discover this secret.

It may seem obvious to the normal person that once a spark of life is created from a seed, be it the seed of a vegetable or the seed of an animal, the growth of that life is somehow predestine.  Each and every one is unique and it is impossible to mix and match between species, let alone members within a given species.  What is this germ of an idea that makes each life and individual?  I am a man of science and say it must exist in the structure of the matter, not just a God-given trait.  There has to be a scientific explanation for how this process works.

Yet science failed me. Continue reading

Child – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

Typically I try to avoid the nursery.  I know exactly what effect it will have, and sure enough, as I stepped inside and looked at the carefully tended, but mostly neglected, toys, tears sprang to my eyes.  I thought of her and the what-might-have-been.

We were in the spring of our lives, young and in love.  We had a special, deep, relationship that seemed to transcend anything placed in front of it.  We believed our love would have sustained us even if we had been penniless, living in a hovel, but luck, both good and bad, had placed us her ancestral home, a sprawling mansion on a hill overlooking the town.

Together we transformed the old place into our home.  We paid attention to every detail, forming the house to fit our personalities.  It was our joint love offering.  A testament to our bond that was supposed to last forever. Continue reading