This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
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There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
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Write and you are a writer.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Single Rose... Lost

Photograph by Mitch Guy
Visit his site at - http://mitchguy.deviantart.com/
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Suggested prompt...
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Tell me the story of this photograph.



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It was the most romantic night of my life. I couldn't remember being any higher than I was tonight. The moon was out, the stars were bright, and I saw his eyes twinkle as we strolled near the pond, hand in hand. I held his rose in one hand, drinking in its scent now and then as we chatted of life, love, and anything else that we wanted to share. I was closer to him than I've been to anyone. We slowed and embraced. Our faces touched and his lips caressed my cheek.

Then she appeared.

She was crying, holding her face in her hands, and watching us with so much pain in her eyes.

I broke away from him as she approached, mascara streaking down her cheeks. Her eyes were focused only on him. It was as if I was invisible. My happiness was shattered as she grew inches from his frowning, concerned face. She whispered the words "How could you?", and placed something small into his hand now parted from mine. Before she turned, her sad eyes flickered to me and caught my eye. They focused on me for a moment, a glint of anger and hatred appeared, and then something else...admiration? No...a longing envy. She then turned and sprinted away, letting a gut-wrenching sob escape from her lips.

My heart broke for her.

Then it broke for me as he turned away from me, hiding the sparkling object she had given him.

I knew what it was. The rose slipped from my fingers. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to scream at him for her. But instead I walked away. I abandoned him just like I had abandoned the rose that now floated near the rocks at the edge of the pond.

No one touched it.

Dani

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE! If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

9 comments:

SD at "Addicted to The Click" said...

The rose slipped from her hand as the first tear began to fall from her brimming eyes.

Her mind going over and over the last words they spoke, the very last moments they had shared.

And, her heart broke.

Vin said...

i have a doubt...
do you have to write the story in the comments compulsarily or can we write to our blogs and link it here?

Laura Jayne said...

Vin...

Welcome to PP&P I do ask that you offer your story or poem here as sharing writing is what this blog is about. If you would also like to post on your own blog and add that link that is fine to do both.

Kate said...

"Joanna, you have a delivery." I dried my hands and walked into the foyer to see Mark standing there with a rose. "Who sent you this? There's no card."
I looked down at my feet. I had forgotten what day it was. "Mark, we've only been together for a little while, and..."
"Joanna, are you seeing someone else?"
"No. I just, I just can't explain, but no, I'm only seeing you."
I took the rose and walked up the stairs to my bedroom. I slid open the closet door and grabbed a piece of string from the desk so that I could tie up the rose for it to dry. The box from the top shelf of my closet whispered for me to pull it down, so I did. A shoebox full of roses and pictures and memories: 6 years of memories. My fingers felt weak as I flipped through the old photographs. I didn't love him anymore. I mean, of course I cared about him, but those old feelings were finally gone. I was sure.
So I took the rose and went for a walk down to the lake. My memories of him would always exist, but for the first time in 6 years, I felt strong enough to let them exist somewhere else. I laid the rose on the shore, and watched as it floated away. And for the first time in 6 years, I didn't cry.

Simply Heather said...

The Prose of a Stolen Rose

Stealing her away from her soul mate; he saw her beauty and thought that she would be the one. She would be the one he could capture a smile with and the one that he would hear those words with that he so desperately longed to hear.

Out on the boat, the three of them drifted into the centers of the water. He rested her on the edge of the boat, as he knelt down on his knees. She fell into the water, never to return.

She hoped to find the one that he stole her from, as she drifted away with hope.

Dani said...

YAY! I'm so happy to see this photograph here! I was the one that directed Mitch Guy to come to PP&P when I saw this photograph- isn't it lovely! And what a fun concept to prompt lovely writing like those above! I am so excited to see it posted here! :)

Dani said...

It was the most romantic night of my life. I couldn't remember being any higher than I was tonight. The moon was out, the stars were bright, and I saw his eyes twinkle as we strolled near the pond, hand in hand. I held his rose in one hand, drinking in its scent now and then as we chatted of life, love, and anything else that we wanted to share. I was closer to him than I've been to anyone. We slowed and embraced. Our faces touched and his lips caressed my cheek.

Then she appeared.

She was crying, holding her face in her hands, and watching us with so much pain in her eyes.

I broke away from him as she approached, mascara streaking down her cheeks. Her eyes were focused only on him. It was as if I was invisible. My happiness was shattered as she grew inches from his frowning, concerned face. She whispered the words "How could you?", and placed something small into his hand now parted from mine. Before she turned, her sad eyes flickered to me and caught my eye. They focused on me for a moment, a glint of anger and hatred appeared, and then something else...admiration? No...a longing envy. She then turned and sprinted away, letting a gut-wrenching sob escape from her lips.

My heart broke for her.

Then it broke for me as he turned away from me, hiding the sparkling object she had given him.

I knew what it was. The rose slipped from my fingers. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to scream at him for her. But instead I walked away. I abandoned him just like I had abandoned the rose that now floated near the rocks at the edge of the pond.

No one touched it.

cagrowngirl said...

As she raced away late for her curfew
She forgot a lone rose all along

The runner-up walks down the same path
But not in a hurry and sees the rose
One of the winner's roses
She attempts to catch up to the running winner

But cannot

What to do? She says to herself?!

The runner-up now has a winner's rose as well.
When she gets home, she places it in a vase next to her bed.
The last thing she sees when she sleeps.
The first thing she sees when she wakes.
A winning rose for her!!

For blue skies. said...

He dropped it into the empty ocean.
It floated to be remembered.
Let it be someone elses love.