Picture it & Write

Tags

candles, creative writing, death, photography, poetry, writing, writing prompt

Welcome to Picture it & Write, a weekly creative writing prompt here on ErmiliaBlog. I invite people to join in to our creative writing prompt. 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 (please provide a translation).

Please continue to write however you’re inspired, but add a tag to the beginning of your post if there’s mature content in order to keep Picture it & Write an engaging event for all of our followers.

 

 

Heat surrounds us. My two sisters and I hear whispers, one sided conversations, prayers. People think we have a loom, a thread, sharp scissors. Snip. Ignorance. Our world is not one of colors and pictures, of tapestries and stories. Our world is one of light we cannot see.

We hear the screech of tires, smell alcohol amongst the smoke. The three of us converge on a set of candles and wait. We watch without ever seeing. I purse my lips. Whoosh. Someone’s light is blown out.

–Eliabeth Hawthorne

Picture it & Write now supports The Girl Effect, a movement empowering girls to break the cycle of poverty in their communities, countries, and world. All profits from the publication are donated to this cause. 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  !

Picture it & Write

Tags

book, books, death, grave, photography, reading, tombstone, writing, writing prompt

Welcome to the Picture it & Write creative writing exercise. I invite 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 (please provide a translation). 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.

Please continue to write however you’re inspired, but add a tag to the beginning of your post if there’s mature content in order to keep Picture it & Write an engaging event for all of our followers.

 

What will my legacy be? What will I leave the world when my bones have turned to dust and I have rejoined the earth? Will it be a pile of leather and dead trees or will my characters and their stories live on in the hearts of readers?

–Eliabeth Hawthorne

Picture it & Write now supports The Girl Effect, a movement empowering girls to break the cycle of poverty in their communities, countries, and world. All profits from the publication are donated to this cause.

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  !

Picture it & Write

Tags

box full of doubt, creative writing, death, photography, poetry, writing, writing exercise

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.

Every fortnight we hope to host a photograph suggested by contributors. So, keep those photograph recommendations coming. Submit your favourite images (with credit) for next week’s Picture it & write!

Image by Zemni

Box Full of Doubt

by Eliabeth Hawthorne

Skeletons don’t always stay in closets. No matter how hard you push the door closed, no matter how well hidden you kept them while you’re alive, someone has to go through the closet when you die.

I found a box, a box full of doubt. It was not in your closet but under your bed, a box full of lies. Lies you told and I believed, things you said were lost or broken, things you said you mailed. What else did you lie about? Like a single loose thread that when pulled unravels the whole sweater, so my reality came unraveled and I began to doubt. How much of your stories were made up? It hurt to doubt you, especially because you’re not here to explain it away.

Then I closed the box full of doubt. I can never close Pandora’s box; I can never unsee what I saw. But, I can choose what I remember. I can choose to focus on the good memories, the cooking lessons, watching movies, listening to your stories. True or not, they are good memories, and focusing on the box will only taint them. It will only hurt me.

FIN

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  !

Want to be a published author?  Contributions to this post qualify for the Picture it & Write Publication.

__quote: I would die for you

Tags

breath, death, inspiration, life, photography, quote, stories, writing

“I would die for you. But I won’t live for you”
-The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand

Have you ever written a scene where this would be an appropriate piece of dialogue that one character would say to the other?  I thought it was a powerful quote that might stir some of the sleeping muses out there.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

life breath.by *M0THart

__picture it & write

Tags

anxiety, children, creativity, death, games, girl, photography, poetry, relationship, writing

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.

Thank you Otheus for your photograph suggestion. I know you provided the image many weeks ago but now that the Blind Sight blog tour is over, we can return back to normal. 🙂 Every fortnight we hope to host a photograph suggested by contributors. So, keep those photograph recommendations coming. Submit your favourite images (with credit) for next week’s Picture it & write!

Untitled By i'm a witch

As a child I never understood the fascination of the game, hide and seek. The pressure of having to find a good hiding spot always made me anxious. What if my hiding spot wasn’t good enough? I would have to be the searcher, a position no one wanted. If my hiding spot was too good, would the other children forget about me and leave? I tried to put my own thoughts away as I played the game with the child I was babysitting.

Maria was a good player and I had been searching for ten minutes without success. An automatic thought was triggered: What if she sneaked out? I started to panic. I ran into the living room. She wasn’t there. I ran into the dining room. She wasn’t there. I ran up the stairs. My heart stopped. Her legs could be seen beneath the curtain, splayed. I threw back the curtain forcefully. Her eyes were open, haunting.

– 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 😉 !

Reflections on Charlie Cox Runs With Scissors

Tags

Bucket List, Charlie Cox Runs With Scissors, comedy, commitment, death, goals, life, Michael McKeever, Midland Community Theater, perseverance, play, theater, tragedy

Charlie Cox Runs With Scissors is a play about a man who has just found out he has a terminal illness.  He’s led a boring life as an editor rather than pursuing writing so in his last months he decides to write his memoirs. Characters representing Love and Death fight for his attention once he finds himself at a secluded motel and fill-up station, in love for the first time in his life, trying to make sense of this cruel twist of fate. The entire play was wonderful, but two quotes require special attention.

“I cried not because I was dying, but because of the life I lived.”

“I can’t be dying because I never lived.”

Man dies from bar bet. Darwin Award?

Tags

bar, court, Darwin Awards, death, drinking, gambling, girl punches rapper in the face, John 'Fatboy' Powell, Tiffany Startz, trial

No this is not a frat brother dead after drinking too much on his 21st birthday but the level of stupidity is close.  John ‘Fatboy’ Powell dies after accepting $5 from Tiffany Startz to punch him in the face.  The resulting punch led to his death and now there’s a debate over whether or not it was a criminal act.  Clearly the intent was not to kill him and with all respect to John’s mother, I do not think she should be charged.  She did not walk up to him completely out of the blue and assault him.  There was no heated argument; if anything there was a business agreement.  She paid him five dollars to punch him in the face, something he agreed to.

I think that is an important distinction.  He agreed, and accepted money, allowing her to punch him in the face.

__summer haze

Tags

africa, aid, children, death, doctor, poverty, short story, writing

Updated 11/10/11

Summer Haze
a short story by Ermisenda Alvarez

I didn’t weep. You can’t. From the moment they throw you into the deep end of this business you can’t be that impressionable. From early you either strengthen your defences or wallow in cascading waterfalls of tears while nursing your experiences. I wasn’t going to become one of those people and I wasn’t going to weep then because you can’t.

Even with numerous friends and nearly all of my family members wishing me not to go forward with my decision I still did. I remember growing up and enjoying the summer haze with my family at our fortnightly gatherings. They would remind me, “you’re a smart one aren’t you?” followed by, “what are you thinking of becoming when your older?” Before I was able to ever answer I would hear the same word repeated by everyone around me, firm nods followed, “Doctor.”