#writephoto — Perspective

3FB8307E-BA25-4FB4-8A8D-34805693822D“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Carolyn asked her friend, Ann, after handing her the photograph. “I’m going to have it mounted and framed and hang it in my living room.”

Ann stared at the picture for a moment and then handed it back to Carolyn. “It’s okay, I guess,” Ann said.

Carolyn was shocked and disappointed by her friend’s reaction. “Seriously?” she said. “It’s just okay?”

“Well, I guess it’s got some artistic qualities about it in an avant-garde sort of way,” Ann said. “But I’m not sure I see the same beauty in it that you do.”

“Oh my God,” Carolyn said indignantly. “How can you look at that photo and not see the beauty in it? It’s a goddam work of art.”

Ann grabbed the picture out of Carolyn’s hand and looked at it again. “Okay, sure, I can see the artistry,” she said. “But what made you take a picture of the setting sun being reflected on the surface of a slushy road?”

Carolyn took the picture back from Ann and looked at it again. “Oh for crissake, Ann,” Carolyn said. “You’re holding it upside down.”

975A6C51-D39A-477E-A545-1CC800B02EB5“Oh,” said Ann. “It’s a sunset over the lake. My bad.”


Written for today’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent. And, yes, Sue, it is a beautiful photograph when you look at it from the the right perspective. 😃

#writephoto — The Tundra

C2CD0E1D-F9A6-488A-A3E5-FA39A26B0535Ashok looked back across the frozen tundra toward the snow capped mountains. He had been walking day and night for at least two days, although he couldn’t be sure, since he was somewhat disoriented. He thought he was heading east, as the sun was slowly setting the over the mountain range and he was still lucid enough to remember that the sun sets in the west.

Or was he actually looking back toward the sunrise? He was confused. Maybe he was heading west. Maybe he was walking in circles. He was so tired, so cold, so hungry. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on like this.

How easy would it be for him to find a large rock to sit next to, to lean up against, to close his eyes, and to fall asleep. But he knew that if he dared to do that, he might never wake up.

Days, or maybe weeks, from now someone would find his frozen body and wonder what had happened to him. They’d find the crude, hand-drawn map in the pocket of his parka, see the “x” marking the spot where the loot from the heist was supposed to have been buried. But if they, like him, followed the map and reached the destination, they, too, would find the buried treasure gone, their trek in vain.

Ashok tried with all his will to keep walking, but his will was not quite strong enough to overcome his weariness. And so he found his rock, slinked down next to it, and closed his eyes. For the final time.


Written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt.

FFfAW — The Scene of the Crime

1B7C8338-86D5-4487-AF01-15D64C9B560CSince he was the last person to see her alive, it didn’t surprise Aaron that he was, at first, a person of interest in her disappearance.

He told the police at the time that he and Amanda were camping near the bay and, after a romantic night of wine and watching the sunset, they went to their tent, made love, and fell asleep in each other’s arms. But when he woke up early the next morning, she was gone.

Five years had already passed since Amanda disappeared. No one knew what happened to Amanda, and her disappearance was now a cold case. Now Aaron was back, yet again, at the same spot by the bay looking at the same sunset.

As Aaron gazed at the sunset, he remembered how she told him that she wanted a divorce. The fight that ensued became violent, and before dawn broke, he disposed of Amanda’s body.

They say that the criminal always returns to the scene of the crime. Aaron did — every year at this same time.

(174 words)


Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers from Priceless Joy. Image Credit: Footy and Foodie.

#writephoto — Sailors’ Delight

Jason and his son stepped outside to look at the breathtakingly beautiful sunset. “Red sky at night, sailors’ delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning,” Jason said.

“Are you a sailor, Daddy?” Richie asked.

“No, son. It’s just an old saying,” Jason responded.

“But is it true, Daddy?” Richie asked. “Is a red sky at night good, but one in the morning is bad?”

“It’s based upon how the prevailing winds usually blow from west to east,” Jason explained. “And since we’re looking toward the west, where the sun is setting, it’s a good sign for tomorrow’s weather.”

Richie asked the inevitable question of an eight-year-old. “Why, Daddy?”

Jason sighed. “Well,” he said, “the saying assumes that when you see the rising sun illuminating clouds in the morning, more clouds will be coming in from the west, which portends cloudy weather to follow.”

Richie looked confused, so Jason continued, “But in order to see red clouds in the evening, sunlight from the setting sun must have a clear path from the west. Therefore, the prevailing winds coming in from the west will be bringing clear skies.”

“But why, Daddy?”

“It’s just an old wives’ tale,” Jason said.

“Is Mommy an old wife,” Richie asked.

Jason looked at his watch. “Oh my, look at the time. I think I heard your mother calling us for dinner.”


Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt challenge from Sue Vincent.

The Big Picture

IMG_2492

“Sorry, I don’t see it,” Hank said.

“Oh come on,” Marilyn said. “Look again. Look harder.”

“I’m looking as hard as I can,” Hank responded, his eyes squinting as he stared at the rocky mountainside dark against the setting sun. “I just don’t see it.”

Marilyn was exasperated. “What do you see?” She asked.

“I can’t tell,” Hank answered. “It’s too far away. It’s either a pile of rocks or a tree growing out of a crack. Or maybe it’s someone standing on the summit.”

Marilyn looked toward the huge rocky cliff. “What exactly are you looking at?”

Hank looked at Marilyn. He was confused. “I’m looking at what you asked me to look at,” he responded. He pointed to the outcropping at the top of the mountain. “That thing that is sticking up from the top. You said it looks like a young girl, but I just don’t see it.”

“No!” Marilyn said. “I said that it looks like the silhouette of a young girl’s face has been carved into the side of the mountain.  Look harder. Don’t you see it?”

“Oh yeah!” Hank exclaimed. “She’s sitting down at the top of the mountain and her long hair is blowing in the wind.”

“You know what you’re problem is, Hank?” Marilyn said, shaking her head back and forth. “You can never see the big picture.”


Written for this week’s Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent.