I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please 
). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.
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by Nikita Gill
I peer across to the other side of the river. I see only land. The sun is starting to rise, and I must get back to my duties soon. I have numerous water candles in my arms. I place them on the ground, careful not to drop any. I take one, nursing it like a precious baby, and then ease it into the water.
Our people believe that to increase fertility and please the gods, childless women should offer candle lights to the stream. Each candle represents a married year without children. My hands tremble as I drop the eleventh candle in the water. I wipe my tears and look over to the other side of the river. For a moment, I envision my child as an adult on the other side. Just one. Please, just give me at least one child.
– Ermisenda Alvarez
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Ermilia 
So beautiful. I know the pain of infertility, both my children required scientific assistance for conception. My son was born through the invitro fertilisation programme. If I had thought, for just one second, that offering candles to a stream would help I would have done so in an instant. Beautiful, heartfelt and real.
Aw, thanks, Lee-Anne. I’m glad you lived in a time and place where you could get that extra assistance to have your amazing son. 🙂
Really enjoyed your story. I know what it is like to not be able to have kids, it’s quite distressing. Really good and full of emotions.
Here’s my attempt
Each year on the longest day, as the sun sets we send candles on the river to be taken over the waterfall and to the gods. One candle for each member of the tribe. One candle for each of our healths.
But what no-one noticed was that this year they missed one. One person was unprotected. We did not realise until bad things started happening. It started with burns and scraps. Then things got worse, arrows went astray and into human flesh.
How the gods chose who would not be protected I do not know. But they chose me.
Thanks. 🙂 I’m sorry to hear about your struggles. I hope things worked out for you.
Nice and creative. I kept trying to think of ways that the candles could represent different aspects of life. I liked your take on it. I hope the main character doesn’t die!
Thanks I am not sure, maybe she could survive the year 🙂
On the banks of the Rhl’Gore the high priests would stand in the spray coming down from the high falls and say their words, asking the gods for their favour. The legends say that one young acolyte told of needs so urgent and so great that they condensed into balls of hope, glowing bright, that floated across the still water of the river. What happened next differs depending on the source but it is said that a figure of a kindly man appeared on the other side of the river, waved for a second and mouthed clearly “No”.
Was the acolyte downcast? Of course, but he was not defeated for the gods see the entirety of a life and knew from this low would spring great deeds for the acolyte was no other than Rashgat No Ghule, the most favoured of the gods who founded a kingdom, wrote the great book at Zidar’Lem, and built this very temple you are standing in. Never forget that if the gods say no it is not to be vindictive just that they see the world as a whole, its plan laid before them, and in its wisdom or purpose no man may question.
Cool story. I liked the message about the bigger picture. I think those thoughts get people through a lot of struggles. And it’s very easy to focus on the bad things in the present without thinking about how it all ties into the bigger tale of one’s life. Also, if no man can question the gods, can a woman? 😛 😉 Just kidding.
Be still my heart. How sad but not uncommon. ❤
It is so sad.
I find it interesting that I wrote this piece since I’m not very maternal. I never wanted children and only am I starting to come around to the idea a little bit. I’m still only in my early 20s (so times might change) but I genuinely think that I wouldn’t be that shattered by not being able to have children. I can see already between my group of friends that some of us have a much stronger desire to bear children than others. Even though it would be sad that I would have that choice robbed from me, I don’t think it would impact me as much as some others. And although I sympathise with anyone who cannot bear children, I feel the most sympathy for those who really really wanted it.
Yes, indeed. Those that especially suffer the pain of not being given the choice to have children because they cannot is indeed heartbreaking. ❤ You have captured those emotions well.
What a beautiful piece! It’s a very tragic scene you’ve painted — one which I could see an artist reading and then being inspired to do a painting on the subject 🙂
Thanks, Michelle. What a compliment that is. 🙂
The air is cool and damp as clouds of vapor rise. Candle lit boats are sent afloat down the gleaming stream in between earth and heaven. The land of dreams sends its songs to a lost friend called reality. Off they go into abyss, where here they will be missed; out there they will likely snuff out from strong wind or savage sea. One or two may reach the distant shore and that is one more dream that wasn’t there before.
What a beautiful and vivid story symbolises dreams. Loved it!
http://livinglifegreenspeck.blogspot.in/2014/10/memories.html
I love the idea that the boats are memories. Very pretty. Thanks for contributing!
– Ermisenda
Pingback: The River of Peace | johnandmargaret1607
Here is my belated attempt
The River of Peace
by John Yeo (c)
Magically the river of forgetfulness will take all our troubles away. Trouble will float from our side of the river to your side. To balance this we will receive candles from your side containing all your troubles, then blow the flames out. This will destroy the evil and send your troubles away. I light my candle with hope, I fill the flames with my despair. I float the candle to you over there. Knowing you will blow it out and disperse my troubles with the wind. I will receive your candle with a prayer, Then blow your troubles away.
http://wp.me/p2Jp6l-vU ~~~Peace
I like how you elaborated on the candle and the ritual associated. I also like someone else being the person to get rid of your troubles. We always need a helping hand during struggles.
Thtank you for your supportive comment Ermilia~ I like responding to your excellent pictorial prompts. 🙂
I had thought when will the winds change? It’s been so long since I’ve received a letter back. I began to light my candle lanterns and send them across one at a time. I can see the letters tide to the outside. I’m afraid to sleep and miss the south winds. What if I’ve missed the letters you’ve sent?
The other day my hair stopped flying in my face and began to whip backwards. I had dropped everything and scared ma half to death racing out of the garden. She was yelling for me to come back, for there was still planting to be done, but I was flying towards the river. It had been too long. 37 days to be exact. I had stood there till the sun set. Tears racked me that night, ma thought I had lost my mind and I would think she’s right if I didn’t have all the old letters tucked away.
Nobody swims. To swim is forbidden unless you had a death wish. I don’t know how long the people have been separated by this undrinkable water that burns the skin and I worry about what would happen without the rain. I once heard it was the people who lived here long ago that ruined the water. I’ve often thought about taking a boat, but with all the wars you couldn’t just sail to another’s land. What if something has happened to him? What if he’s finally moved on? I hate my blasted skin color. If I was his people’s color then I might have been able to blend in.
I was sitting there hugging my knees to my chest when the wind changed. A small flickering light began to grow and a sob escaped my mouth. I quickly covered my mouth and almost died waiting for it to reach me. If the wind changed I would throw myself in the water. It reached me and I held a candle to the words.
My dearest love,
I’ve waited 37 days. I told you in my last letter we couldn’t do this anymore and that you needed to move on with your life. I threw myself into work. I cried shamefully when I wrote that letter because I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to selfishly keep you to myself, but this isn’t away to live. I’ve decided to make it my goal to end this war. If not for the fact that we as a people would grow into something better working side by side, but for true love. I’m sorry my love for putting you through this.
Love, Henry
I never received the letter he was talking about and I’m glad I didn’t. Seven years later the pact was made between our colonies and we were married.
Aw, what a fairy tale ending. I’m glad they ended up happy. Thanks for contributing this week. 🙂
Thank you, it was my pleasure. I gave them the ending because they deserved it. I hope for every couple that puts in the time, effort, and love that they will also have a fairy tale ending.
Pingback: Waiting on a letter… | My Fictional Truth
Hiya, so I posted my reply on my page and linked it back to your page. I changed the end from the one I posted here.
I saw that someone else had done this on one of your other picture it and write prompts. I hope this is okay. If you have any objections I can remove it asap!
Thanks again for helping inspire creativity. The link is below if you want to see my post.