__picture it & write

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inspiration, photography, poetry, prompt, stories, tattooed ladies, weekly writing exercise, 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 will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

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“You have a skull tattooed on your hand? Why on earth would you do that?” My father shook his head as he drove. “You were so beautiful before all these tattoos.”

“I think she looks cool.” My brother shrugged. I gave him a weak smile.

“Why would you put it on your hand like that?” my mother asked, looking towards the backseat where I sat.

I raised my hand and covered my face. The tattooed skull nose overlapped mine and so did it’s mouth. My mother’s brow furrowed and she looked worried. My brother exclaimed, “Cool!”

– Ermisenda Alvarez

__picture it & write

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community, inspiration, perspective, poetry, snakes, stories, weekly writing exercise, weekly writing prompt, 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 will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

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The snake weaved between my fingers. Black and white lattice. A tiny forked tongue sprung out and licked my thumb. I shut my eyes as it slithered. The feeling was strange but welcome. I tightened my hold and it bit me. It was weak and soft. My grasp tightened until the snake burst into ashes. Tiny black scales appeared on my fingers, racing down to my hands and arms.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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inspiration, life, picture it & write, pictures, poetry, stories, weekly writing exercise, witches, writing, writing prompts

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 Kyle Thompson

“I hate them.” The first sister growled.

“Do not let them get to you. They are only stupid teenagers.” The second sister caressed her faded wreath.

“They are obnoxiously loud. Their feet tear up the soil as they stomp.”

“Patience,” the second sister wrapped her arms around her sisters. “They will explore the caves. And we will wait for them.”

The third sister hissed. Her eyes opened and she absorbed the light until it was pitch black. They waited.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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authors, community, fiction, photography, poetry, readers, stories, tear tattoo, weekly writing exercise, 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 will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

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The man’s arm froze in the air. The hammer stared at me. My lip quivered. My body cringed away from him. The intensity of his gaze burned me. Why had I been so stupid?

“You’re lucky that you’re young.” He spat. His eye twitched and so did his tear tattoo.

I swallowed nervously. I knew what the tear tattoo symbolised. This man wouldn’t hesitate.

“I wouldn’t want to add another.” He rested the hammer’s edge against his tattoo.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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books, creative writing, photography, poetry, weekly writing exercise, 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 will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

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I yelped in pain, crumbling to my feet. Xavier spun around and skidded to a stop. My hand flew to the back of my neck. I felt the feeding tube protruding from my tender flesh. The end was caught on a branch. Xavier unhooked the tube and looked at the back of my neck.

“We have to remove it.”

His tube had been torn when we had both set off running from the facility. My lips quivered. I didn’t want him to rip it out. I could already imagine the paralyzing pain.

“It’s going to hurt but the pain will pass. We have to keep running.”

After a long pause, I nodded. I stared up to distract myself. The trees swayed, obscuring my vision of the sky. With my fist in my mouth, I bit down. Suddenly, pain scorched my spine.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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community, creative writing, inspiration, ocean, photography, picture it & write, poetry, sea, stories, weekly writing exercise, whales, writers

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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Tale of Two Flukes by photocase

My mother was in love with the ocean. Sculptures and paintings of mermaids, dolphins, whales, and other sea-creatures decorated the house. It didn’t matter if they were mythical, they all had a place in our home. I don’t know when the obsession started but that’s all I remember our furniture being littered with.

For her fiftieth birthday I decided to take her out into the sea. The boat was small and rickety. I was still in college and hadn’t saved as much as I wanted to. A friend of mine knew this great place to see whales and dolphins from afar and I couldn’t miss the opportunity to take my mother. After an hour of coaxing her out of the house, I finally got her out onto the boat.

What took me by surprise was that it had taken me hours to get her out of the safety of her home, and yet as soon as we were on the water she instantly wanted to jump into the blue. Once we were out in the open, I took out my binoculars. Within minutes my mother had stood up and jumped out of the boat. The boat being small nearly capsized.

I held onto my hat, gripping the boat with my other hand and yelled, “Mum! Do you want to sink us?”

But she didn’t respond. When I looked out to see her in the water, I saw that she wasn’t alone. A chill slithered down my back. My stomach clenched. I could see an overwhelmingly large shadow about to breach the surface from the depths. Just as I was about to order my mother back into the boat, her head disappeared beneath the water.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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books, capture, community, creative writing, critique, crows, escape, feedback, flash fiction, inspiration, nature, photography, poetry, reading short stories, stories, weekly writing exercise, writing prompt

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 DiggieVitt on Flickr

The tall grass tickled my arms but I didn’t stir. Poised in my crouching position, I prepared to leap if the hunter came my way. The loud thumping of my heart against my ribcage threatened to give me away. Adrenaline coarsed through my body, I wanted to run but if I ran too early I would be no more.

Suddenly, I heard a twig snapping. It was just behind me. Then another twig snapped. Not leaving my life to chance, I bolted across the field. A flock of crows, surprised by my sudden appearance, exploded into a hundred directions. The sweat trickled down my face and the wiry hairs of my beard soaked it up. As I glanced behind me, I noticed that the crows weren’t settling down, they were determined to snatch me too.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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book, corrie white, fiction, lady in white, liquid drop art, picture it and write, poem, poetry, stories, weekly 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.

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Quick Note: This photograph has been requested by Joe at Joe2Poetry. I promised him that I would use this picture last fortnight, so I’m very sorry for the delay. I guess you’ll have to use those rotten tomatoes for something else. I pulled through! 😉 Also, this photograph is in fact liquid art and you can read/see more here.

by Corrie White

I pulled my shirt down from my shoulders. The water had plastered it to my skin and it had now become see through. The shirt peeled off my like a second skin and the muscles in my chest tensed. The water embraced me as if it were her arms. I could see her. I continued my journey into the lake until I was neck deep in inky-black water. If I took even another step, I wouldn’t be able to breathe. But I was not hit by fear or panic. My eyes locked onto her form, unable to look away. Then she took another step forward, and so did I.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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eye for an eye and the whole world is blind, ghandi quote, government, molotov, photography, poetry, riots, stories, weekly writing exercise, 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 will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

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Blood for blood. The glass bottle felt cool against my fingertips but the raging fire on the cloth seared my forearm. Arching back, I gained momentum for the throw. These government officials thought they could lay to waste our cities and villages. They thought that the citizens would just lay back and accept all the wrong they had done to us. We wouldn’t. We were the people.

The molotov cocktail flew through the air and smashed against the shields of the police officers. They continued to march on, like robots. My father had always told me that violence was not that answer. Eye for an eye and soon the whole world would be blind, he would quote Ghandi. Well, eye for an eye it would be. I’d rather be blind and know that I had fought for my people than to endure watching the  authorities tear up my nation without punishment.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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__picture it & write

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art, community, delusions, hallucinations, landscape, mountains, photography, poetry, stories, survival, weekly writing exercise, 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 will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

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Floris Van Cauwelaert

I trudged through the snow with my eyes closed. Whenever I’d open them, even the slightest, my retina’s burned with the explosion of light around me. My throat itched with thirst, my feet were raw inside my dirty shoes, and I hobbled with the weight of my rucksack on my aching back.

“Hold up,” I croaked. I was sure the man in front of me hadn’t heard me. I prepared myself to speak again but he turned.

“We’ve been walking for hours,” I began, hoarse. Swinging my arm around to gesture to the crystal landscape around us, I fell. I hadn’t realised just how weak I was.

“We have arrived.” I heard the man speak. I lifted my head out of the snow which scratched my face like glass. He was no longer there. As if a ghost, he had disappeared.

Suddenly, the ground trembled.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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