Writing Exercises: Do It With A Picture #4
Heyy there. Welcome to the 4th Writing Exercise, do it with a picture. For those who don’t know what it is, i give you a picture and you can create a story, poem, or describe it artistically.
This week’s picture is…
Have fun and let your imagination run wild!
Check out also:
Writing Exercises #3
It was a long time until I would be done with my journey, but it felt like this was a reward for the distance I’ve already done. The water volcanos were going off below me, making for a bright blue ocean. I would be safe though, as their ‘lava’ and power couldn’t reach the surface. It seemed as if Mother Earth was giving me a pat on the back. The only motivation I seemed to have right now. I couldn’t help but stand in awe of the sights in front of me. It was then that I realized that the stars were shining. I kept pushing along through the vibrant waters, never letting the smile leave my face.
Currently working on. Accidentally pressed stupid button.
Story so far
The Story of the Fallen Children:
Q: What are the Fallen Children?
A: You all heard of them, the ones who disappear in the night, the ones who are never seen again.
Q: How long has this been going on?
A: Too long for me to remember. Everyone knows the stories nobody knows when it started. Only speculation.
Q: How does it feel to be the first to come back
A: Uneasy. The power that I once had feels my body with need. Do you know how it feels when we lose someone close to us? That’s doesn’t even explain how empty I feel right now.
Q: Can you tell us your story?
A: Sure. You might want to get comfortable! It’s going to be a long one!
Like most tales start I would be described as the bad son . The ones who never listen , to the teachers , to their own parents … Well that was me more or less . Being a bad child gave me a reason , a goal to stay alive in this harsh world I lived in .
The day ? OH I remember that day <>perfectly
I rowed the boat as silently as I could, the only sounds were the creaks and rubbing of the wood, the splashes that shot out, causing slight ripples, and my steady heartbeat. The biting cold was quite unnatural, on a night like this it should be fine to cannonball straight in. Wind threatened to tear off my scarf. Fog rose from the depths of the frozen waters. Soon I would reach it and get splashed with a light drizzle. My teeth struck together repeatedly, as some strands of hair recoiled at the sudden blast of icy air. They had said I had left far too soon. I didn’t heed their warnings. I needed to reach my destination at the speed of light. If I had left a second later this would be impossible… but did that even matter? At this rate I would die, stranded in the sea with only the moon and stars as my light, the rough, cold, hardwood, would be my deathbed. I shut my eyes, the bitter reality stung more than the frostbite. Sighing, I picked up the oars again; I can make it, but not if I sit around pitying myself.
Journal of Anneke Askelson
It’s been two days since my crew and I have been separated, food supplies were running low and having some kind of sleep has become impossible.
I’ve been drifting up north and the sea has been rather kind to me. I have seen one of the most gorgeous fogs of all time. The moonlight shimmering through it and the presence of reflection in the water, is a sight to behold. The stars were an added bonus; their presence had only enhanced the beauty of the vast empty space, which surrounded me from all sides. It made me forget my dilemma for that moment.
I don’t know how long it will be before I feel the solidarity of land underneath my feet but I hope it’s soon.
Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate