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activity, art, books, fiction, fire, inspiration, life, photography, poetry, writing
Note: I (Ermisenda) travelled across two continents on the 9th and I may not be available to respond to contributions immediately. That doesn’t mean that I have abandoned you and I hope that we get numerous contributions this week like the others. My response to your lovely works may be delayed but they will come. Thank you for bothering to read this note and hopefully contributing. 🙂
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 has been reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr.
The embers danced along my fingertips. What was happening to me? Something stirred in the hall. I clasped my hands together and hid them between my thighs. The wooden floorboards creaked in agony underneath the weight of my step father. I scrambled into the corner of my room, I tightened the frayed blanket around myself, only my eyes peeped out. The slither of light illuminating the bottom of the door was smothered. The beads of sweat trickled down the curve of my nose. My thighs burned. The pain intensified with each second. Rage flowed through my veins like molten lava. The door opened. My step father’s insidious, glittering eyes could be spotted. Unable to restrain myself or the force within me, I stood. My hands reached out and hate flickered behind my eyes. The flames engulfed him, the house, and me.
– Ermisenda Alvarez
Everyone is welcome to use the button, just link them back to the Picture it & write category or Ermiliablog! 🙂 Share your love for Picture it & write on your blog with the image below. Be proud, and stylish 😉 !
Ermilia 
Dancing fire on my fingertips.
Burning away my fingerprints.
The last proof of my past life.
All the terror and the fear,
Nothing that brings hope near,
a new start with a new identity.
If only you knew what you meant to me.
– Otheus
Marvelous Otheus!! I loved your contribution. Blessings, Terri
Magic!
Yum! I started a story on this that is going to take me some time to write. This really fits the unspoken thoughts in my protagonist’s mind. I love it!
I love this!
Delightful. I thought the image of the burned fingertips was powerful. The poem mirrors the image really well, I felt like you hinted at some romance at the end which was lovely too.I thought the photo was such an exquisite find I just had to put it in Picture it & write. I´m glad you contributed this week, Otheus.
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Well, I see my pingback is already here so I guess you don’t need me to give you my link. I went for the story this time, probably to become my new series, lol! Hope you like. Blessings, Terri
Fantastic, I thought she had just lost it in the beginning but I loved the theme of vengence you wove into the story. It made it much more powerful. I also loved the effortless, conversational quality the main character possessed as they referenced movies and books dealing with self-combustion. Very authentic. Great work, Terri!
Ancient memories stirred within my heart. The world blurred and ran like colours in the rain. Deep within I felt the call of the universe, I felt it burn and coil through my being. Suddenly, without warning, the fire leapt to my fingertips as it scorched through my being called there by some ancient connection to a long lost world.
“Uriel, my fire”, the words whispered through my veins. “Uriel, it is time to remember.”
My cloak fell away as wings sprouted from my spine. Before me the world shrank away, beneath me the soil glowed as fire engulfed my being.
People shrank away from me, the heavens opened above connected with Earth through the pillar of fire I had become. With a mighty heave I lifted away from Earth and rejoined the light.
“Home,” sighed my being.
“Uriel,” whispered the light.
“Uriel,” shouted the masses.
“I am Uriel, Fire of God, and these are my memories. You are my chosen channel to write my words.” The words flow from angel to me.
As I type the fire floods through my veins and lights my keyboard. As it burns my resistance away I feel the power of Uriel merge with my own small being.
What am I? Who am I? What am I becoming??
Lee-Anne
I just love the photo this week, it inspired me and then went somewhere I didn’t expect. Your story, Ermisenda, is brilliant! Wow and wow is all I can say lol.
OOOOOh, fabulous story!! loved it. Blessings, Terri
I agree with Terri. This is where the cloak first took me and “Uriel” just drives it home!
I’m so confused already because I saw Elia’s second post before I saw these.
btw, Ermi, your paragraph… there is stuff going on in your head, girl, we gotta talk about. I love your rage. Not just here but in other posts too. I would say I need it, but it’s more like I just love the feeling of the release!
Lee’Anne, that was great. I love this phrase to bits ´The world blurred and ran like colours in the rain.´ I was hoping people would take a more godly perspective, I think you executed it beautifully. I´m glad you really liked the picture! I hope to keep choosing the right ones 😉
Haha, Anne. Yes… there probably is something happening in my head. I can´t seem to stray away from the dark themes. They just always seem to strike me as the most powerful and when I write… I always want to make the most impact. Yes that lovely feeling of release, it´s divine. 🙂
I only joined this club with my girl friend about a month ago. Now she tells that what I actually joined was a covan. Witches I looked at her with my eyes wide like in a cartoon and said ” You are joking aren’t you?” she look at me from under thick black lashes with her small little pixie face and cupid bow lips smiled and replied ” No I am not joking, you joined a covan. Oh and by the way we have you commitment cermony tonight.” “Wait my what?” Joanne once again looked at me “I”ll pick you up at seven.”
Oh my God I can’t believe it me a witch. All those scary stories that I had heard at halloween came rushing back to me.
It’s okay Susan just clam yourself not all witches are bad.
Joanne arrived just before six to collect me, my stomach was doing flip flops I was so stressed.
Finally we arrived at the old cottage, I always thought this place looked quaint now it looked eerie.
Once inside they place me in a sliver grey robe , it kinda itched. I was then place in the centre of the circle and the chanting began.
I felt suddenly cold and then just as suddenly warm my hands started to tingle and my finger tips became very hot so hot that started to rub my fingers against each other to stop the sensation.
Next thing I know I flames coming off my finger tips. I just stared at my hands, my mouth hanging open my whole body was shaking.
What I noticed next was that the chanting had stopped and Joanne and the others were looking at me and smiling.
The head witch stepped forward and said in a thoarty voice ” We have finally found her. We have been searching for you for a long time.”
“Why?” I questioned
“You are our last element “Fire”. Now we are all gathered our cleansing of the Earht can begin..”
She turns to the other women gatherd there and says ” Please welcome Fire”
They all start to clap, I proceed to faint.
🙂 Flame on! I didn’t know how to feel about this at first and then when I realized you were ambiguous too, it made the whole piece a lot of fun!
The ending made me smile. A very appropriate response, to faint. I wonder what would happen next in the story! Thanks for contributing this week Peta and I hope to see more of your great stories.
The beggar could not afford a votive candle. The Abbot saw ten flames dance on her fingertips and marvelled at the miracle of faith.
!!!!!!!
Anee´s response sums mine up too. Brilliant! I marvel at your abilities with minimal words. Loving your work, keep it up. 😀
Thank you both. 🙂
Omg I love this picture!!
“Fire is unpredictable, but when it is successfully tamed, it becomes an art.” My master’s words echoed in my ears as I struggled to make the flames dance onto the tips of my fingers. Sparks came out of my hands and fire instantly sprout up. After a week I had managed to control this element, yet I frowned.
I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t sense its warmth.
I curled my palms into fists and sat on the ground.
I would stay in the cold forever.
Sweet! I love the master’s words! I love the frustration I saw in the crumpled fingers!
Ooo, I liked that concept. Being able to control fire and yet unable to feel the warmth, staying cold. Very powerful. Ye the picture is marvelous, isn´t it? So glad to read more of your work, evilnymphstuff.
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Mine is here: http://masochisticqueen.wordpress.com/2011/12/11/__-picture-it-write-9/
It should take you less than a minute to read it 😛
Ermisenda: I really liked how all the sentences operated, this one particularly caught my attention – “The wooden floorboards creaked in agony underneath the weight of my step father.” – very effective in presenting the protagonist’s attitude towards her step father. Strong and unusual ending.
Ha! That’s cool, Eliza!
Wow. Such a powerful one line contribution. I´m still partly in awe. Takes a minute to read but a few to process. Awesome work! Sometimes less is more. A fantastic contribution, Eliza!
I posted this under the other picture too… Sex on the Beach.
I agree with Tinc´s comment on the topic. Misleading! Haha, nah it was brilliant. I also really liked that you merged the two images into the one story. A very good idea that resulted in great work. I too see the horny driftwood, but only because your characters mentioned it and now I won´t be able to get that thought of out of my mind! Haha, ah well. That´s good writing, right? The kind that doesn´t escape the mind… or maybe it´s just the mention of sex… Awesome work as always, Anne!
I wouldn’t have seen those images if it wasn’t for Jessi mentioning it either. 😉
Oh beautiful intelligent woman
With sound mind and body
Such perfection only exists
Amongst clouds and mountain peaks
I put you high up on a pedestal
A goddess to be honored and worshipped
My heart pounds when you are near
My spirit soars to lofty heights
My passion and soul yearns
To make love to you in the wind
Your being is terrifyingly supreme
I Fear being consumed in your flames
Ooh, I really like the part between the beginning and the end! Except for the pedestal thing. Haha, you know I’m afraid of heights, Tinc!
Ha…that is good…once you put another on a pedestal you are doomed to be burned alive 😉
btw… Bottomless Hole really gave me a feeling of an ant lion lurking below.
ha ha…you and your mythical and mystic creature 😀
I imagined falling down to infinite darkness…like it was before I was born…I remember before birth is nothingness
Hey! Ant lions are for real! …grotesque little fanged hunters of things creepy and crawly. Your poem had you crawling out only to fall back in, which is how the ant lion ultimately defeats its prey.
Favourite parts were the mention of perfection only existing between mountains and the final sentence. Fire, that theme of passion and desire. An exquisite poem. Compared to many of the other contributions this one really pushes the romantic, passion aspect. At least it did for me, it was a lovely, refreshing read. Hope to see you next week, Tincup!
🙂
Fire has always fascinated me for some reason. I played with matches as a kid. I have no idea why I love to stare at candles. The fire seems so alive and full of life.
Now, I accidently caught my fingers on fire. I thought it would have hurt but it doesn’t. I can’t even feel it. Why is that? I think I will go ask my magic mentor, Mr White. So I blew out the fire and walked over to Mr White’s house. He has a creepy looking knocker.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, redlady.”
“Come.” He opened the door and beckoned for me to come in. “How are you?”
“A little confused.”
“Why?” He sat down and waited for me to state my confusion.
“I caught my fingers on fire but I couldn’t feel it.” I looked up to him to see if he’d have any thoughts. A smile broke out on his face.
“Oh, you have found your gift.”
“Gift? How could that be gift?” I felt so bewildered by his reaction.
“The force gives each person a gift but many people never found their gift. You must have the power of fire. Now, I want you to practice starting a fire with your mind. Be careful to be at a distance from people or animals while you practice.”
I nodded my head and ask, “How?”
“Concentrate on the characteristics of fire. The heat, the appearance, where do you want it to go?” He walked me to the door. “Good luck.”
I walked home and sat thinking about this strange new ability in my life. I wondered what his special gift was. I decided to take a walk into the woods to try to practice. It is a cold day with snow on the ground. I walked out and stopped by some trees. I closed my eyes and thought as hard as I could about fire. Brrr. It is cold out here. I started to think about the snap sound that fire makes while it burns. I feel warm in my fingers but my feet are so cold. I opened my eyes and looked at my hands. They were on fire. I watched the fire on my fingers. Wow, they is so cool. My feet caught fire. Em, I think I should put this thing out. I blew out the fire on my fingers and tried to blow out the fire on my feet. I couldn’t reach it. Let’s try to put some snow on it. The snow melted rapidly but didn’t put the fire out. Oh, Oh, I caught the tree on fire! I started throwing snow at it but it just caught the tree nearby it too. I finally managed to get the fire out. The burned up trees looked almost like two lovers.
Sorry, I forgot something.
…When I told Mr. White about the fire, he called me Firelady. “What is your special gift?”
“Snow. I can make snow anywhere. Let me know if you ever need me to put out any of your fires.”
I know how the main character feels about being mesmerised by fire. It is so alive, the way it dances. If you ever develop the story further I think you should venture further down the idea of the girl being unable to put out her own fires. It´s an interesting concept. Great way of incorporting both images this week too. I hope to see more next week!
Something about this being a gift just makes me so happy! Then I just love how lost I feel as soon as he says, “Good luck.”
I absolutely fell in love with this picture. It inspired so many concepts and lines of poetry in my head that I wasn’t sure where to take it. Ultimately I settled on this…
Such fierce beauty
In the power radiating from my fingertips
Its price
I paid willingly
Rendering me
Untouchable
Now, I am kissed by the elements
And caressed by the spirits
Residing in the stars
I read the hearts of demons
And find subtle foreplay
In my conversations with the gods
This power
By rendering me untouchable
I now
Touch everything
Hey Toya! Great to see another contribution. 😀 I love how you enforce this idea that the persona was untouchable and yet she is kissed by the elements, caressed by spirits and touches everything. Love the contrast. Beautiful. 🙂
“We are but the ashes we rise from at birth. A phantom coasting along through the idle currents of a lifestyle deemed unacceptable by the founding fathers. This is not a shadow handed to me from the daemons beneath our feet, but by the angels, the gods that so graciously wish for us to branch forth from our tiny cells and fight. Slavery my friends is but a nightmare not a lifetime. With this power with these flames that have come straight from the almighties above we will burn the cities to the ground, from ashes to ashes we will free ourselves from the tumultuous seas that have kept us trapped here.” The raspy voice of the young man bellowed loudly through the prison, the crowd of onlookers draped in rags piss stained and torn gather around him as the gates open up letting in twenty guards each clad in steel armor and helms that covered their eyes. One raised his sword and the back row of guards raised their bows, holding tightly onto the shaft of the arrows that were now laced between the wood.
“Aiden, lord of fire, give me strength, for this in my darkest hour I call upon your power, your fire burning deep within my heart.”
“On the count of three fire.” The lead guard cries out and the crowd curl themselves up around the young man whose hands are burning with the intensity of the words coming from his lips.
“You have given me this gift for reasons that I know by your laws I must find myself.”
“One”
“, and if you wish for me to die as an example to them that they cannot when then so be it, but do not let me die in vain Aiden. Oh master of the burning flame, I beseech you to let this tempest that boils in my gullet to rise forth free from me like a phoenix.”
“Two”
“Let this blaze burn them to a crisp leaving nothing but the ashes that bore them into this land.”
“Three” The young man’s eyes burst into brilliant orange flame, just as the arrows flew, none hit, and no guard stood as a whirlwind of embers engulfed all twenty of the guards, all from the hands of one man.
Thanks for contributing this week, The Sunday Mail. The imagery at the end was beautiful ‘no guard stood as a whirlwind of embers engulfed all twenty of the guards’. Exploring the concept of having a lord (or lady) of fire is interesting and I think it could make a really good novel. I hope to see more from you soon. 🙂
The glowering flame
Bakes the fingers of my hand
to the third degree
The variety of concepts people have is mesmerizing. Thanks for posting this contribution, theonlyjoe.
Pingback: A Toasty Haiku (Picture it and write #8) « The Only Joe
http://rosikifish.wordpress.com/2011/12/27/empress-of-fire/
Tried to have a got at it 🙂
Very strong ending! Fantastic phrase – ‘the ever burning flames clawing in protest at the night.’ You didn’t just try, you succeeded in having a go at it. Very intriguing, I wish there was more to the story! Thanks for contributing, Rosikifish.