Writing Exercises #3: Do It With A Picture ✍

Writing Exercises#3: Do It With A Picture

Heyy, there. Welcome to the third picture writing exercise.
I don’t have anything to say, but if you wonder how it works, i give a picture and you make a story out of that picture.

Let’s go…

And don’t forget, let your imagination run wild.

Don’t hesitate to ask any questions.

Also check out:


Ooh, so I’m going to check out the past ones but about how long are the stories? And are they just posted here?


Im totally going to do this one.


No, you don’t have to, just promoting the others in case you might be interested in checking the other pictures and yes, you just post them here.


Ima need a tag for this… for I can get it every other week



I’ll try this out sometime :rofl:

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Lol just writing this on the spot so um… enjoy?

I’d like to think that water likes to touch as back. As the sun sets I tentatively reach over the edge of the calm water, and as soon as my finger lightly grazes the water it sends it into chaos. Well, not chaos exactly. Slow chaos. Peaceful chaos. Is that a thing? I look between the ripples and see myself. I’m leaning over the bridge, hand touching the water. It’s the one time of the year that the water rises up to meet the bridge. I look down at my face, in the water, it looks different… perfect. My red hair is the color of roses, and my eyes bright and blue. Her hand, almost glass-like, follows mine as I hover it over the lake, now still. It looks so… real. A perfect version of the real version I know, but real nonetheless.
“Lola! Dinner!” Mother calls.
I roll my eyes and look back, “Coming!”
I turn back and I smile at my perfect glass-like self and reach out to grab my perfect hand. Maybe it’s to metaphorically shake it goodbye, or hello, who knows. But as I squeeze down, something grasps my hand, my perfect hand, and I fall into the river, and the skyline disappears.


You’re a great writer :joy:

The water at the camp was chilly during the day, so going out near sunset made me shiver just thinking about it. However, if everyone else was going to go, I was joining. I’m not a coward. We grabbed some canoes and paddled out towards the center of the lake. I followed everyone else and sat towards the back of the boat. Two people grabbed the oars and made a show of trying to paddle as quickly as possible towards the center of the lake. I reached my hand out towards the water, recoiling quickly at the cold of the surface. I jerk backwards too hard and rock the boat a bit as I move back. We don’t fall over, thankfully. The sun sets over the forest on the far edge of the lake, illuminating everything with a golden light. The small group of canoes stop, and people start stripping down to jump in the water. I pull off my dress and quickly jump in. The water feels much colder at night, and then sun is setting quickly. As I try and swim around, I feel my foot catch on something in the water. I try to move it, but every jerk of my leg, I feel myself getting more stuck and dragged further into the water. As I try to scream for help, I get dragged under the water. I can’t see anything, but I can feel myself slowing sinking into the water, unable to breathe.


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