Lighthouse

Photograph by Highlander
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Suggested prompt...
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Include a lighthouse in your writing today.

_________________________

Stand alone
You are seen.
You shine high and bright.
To send me hope
That soon the sun will rise
And I will breathe that much easier
In the morning...

For blue skies.

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.

Single Prayer

Photograph by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Offer creatively one single prayer for today's writing.

Incorporate it in story, or maybe pray in rhyme, any creative way you like.

______________________

To whom it concerns,

I haven't decided whether there's one God or several, whether you're just some cosmic force, a breeze in the trees or the man sitting next to me on the bus. So, I don't know how to address this letter; don't want to offend. I thought, perhaps, God(s) would suffice, but maybe you aren't actually called 'God,' so 'To Whom it Concerns' seems the appropriate salutation.

You know that my prayers aren't frequent. In the past, I've sought you out only when I needed something, when things felt out of control or when I needed you to take care of someone I love. I was selfish then, and my faith was blind. I suppose I thought that prayer was all about taking, about relinquishing control. My prayers never expressed gratitude or thanks, they only asked you to take care of something for me, which was my subconscious way of freeing myself from all responsibility and casting it onto you, my scapegoat.

Looking back, many of my prayers were more like threats meant to put you in a position where it was impossible to bargain with me, to try and be the voice of reason. "If you don't make this happen, God, then I'll never believe in you again." Maybe I thought this extreme statement would make it imperative for you to answer my prayer.

In my young life, I somehow confused prayers with wishes to be granted. I knew I had free will, but I also believed that God could intervene in our daily lives, that he could make things happen. It makes life easier, more beautiful, somehow, thinking that you can give me my way.

God, I wish that there weren't wars over you, only they aren't really over you, but they are about you. They're over which interpretation, which religion is right. This may be presumptuous of me, but I don't think you agree or believe in organized religion. I certainly don't think you favor a particular religion over another. No, I think you probably hang your head in sorrow when you see people battling, when you see that true faith and belief is lost, and religion has really just become political. I believe that you put humans on this Earth to find each other, to believe in each other, to have more faith in themselves than in the divine. You created humanism. Somehow, this notion, this message, got muffled.

God, I don't know whether you have divine powers, whether you're an overseer of life on Earth, but I wish people didn't place all of their faith in you, something divine. Why can't people place their faith in something ordinary, like human nature? If we all believed in the power humans have, human nature would be something extraordinary. We have the power to change things, to change the world, it's just a matter of having the strength and the faith.

God, if you're out there, if you're listening, I want to thank you for human life. Please pray for us. Pray that we start to believe in each other so we can dig ourselves out of the deep ditch we've buried ourselves in.

Cheers,
Tin Kettle Inn

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.

Thoughts of Speed

Photograph by Highlander
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Suggested prompt...
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Offer his internal dialog at this moment.

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The crowd cheers and I hit the throttle to give them more of what they came for, pushing the bike until it's vibrating so hard that my hands start to go numb.

New leather drags over grooved rubber as my fingers begin to slip and I tighten my grip, lean into the curve, and wait for gravity to come out and play.

And then it's here. That moment I've been craving, the one where the world goes quiet and suddenly nothing exists except the bike and the pavement and that interminable moment of helpless freefall before I accelerate through the turn and leave it's grasping danger behind.


That's the high. That's why I'm out here every weekend risking life and limb for some brass plated trophy I couldn't even get ten bucks for at a pawn shop.

And yeah, maybe the ex was right and I'm so addicted to the hum of adreneline racing through my blood that I can't feel alive unless I'm facing death.

Maybe I've got a thing for playing with fire and tempting fate.

Who cares?

We've all got to go sometime. At least my way pays the bills.

Sanity

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.

Boats in the Harbor

Photograph by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Write a tale of a captain going out to sea from 1st person perspective.

_________________

I hadn't expected it to feel like this. Many times I've floated out into the water at daybreak just like today. So why was today different?

Well, today is different because I'm leaving more behind. So many times in the past I've set sail out into this open water, looking forward with so much longing for the sea, looking forward to the many adventures that could await out over that water.

Today I look back. I feel the shore pulling at my heart more than before. I look within myself for the answers.

For so long I've loved the sea. I've gone out with no other desire in my heart, no other place I would rather be. I look toward the watery horizon and the rising sun. The air is crisp and touches my face, as it has so many times before. It is beautiful. Yet it has changed somehow and I am drawn back.

The birth of my daughter changed many things. It made me a father. It made my wife a mother. But that is just what happened on the surface. That is just what other people can see.

My friend comes up behind me and rests his hand on my shoulder with a smile. "Excited to get back out on the water again?" He said. I could hear the old excitement in his voice. The one we used to share.

I gave him a small smile, but I knew that after this last time on the water together, I was ready to do what my wife had suggested: stay ashore and watch my daughter grow up.

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.

Behind the Door

Photograph by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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There is a story behind that door... write it.

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4/13/09
Out on the street, the shop seems like your typical small town curiosity shop with bobble headed dolls, new age velvet paintings of dolphins arching over a moonlit ocean, incense burners and books on magic. But why are they open only at night? I have often seen people enter the shop and not come out for an hour or two...strange people who only seem to come out at night. No children, mostly middle aged loners...the kind that look down as you pass by, never acknowledging that you even exist.


6/11/09
Down the alley towards the back of the shop is where they come out...never using the front door that they entered. Are they embarrassed about what they did inside? Are they buying something illegal...not wanting to be discovered? The answer lies behind the alley door.


6/14/09
The locals just change the subject when I ask about the shop. They know and they are protecting someone or something. I moved here 3 months ago to start my new life after graduating with full honors from law school. Passing though the town often on the way to Carmel, I always thought this would be the perfect place to start up a practice...no other attorneys...no competition...just me, my naive idealism and the locals flooding through the door so I can serve them.

6/15/09
After three months, it is obvious I am not welcomed in this cliquish, private club disguised as a town.


6/16/09
Tonight I will find out what is going on in the inner circle...I am going in that back alley door that so many exit from each night.

"The Carmel District Attorney has charged Mayor Richards of Salem, California with conspiracy to commit murder along with several other townspeople to be announced at a later date of the brutal ritualistic slaying of John Williamson on June 17th, a local lawyer. The charges were filed after the discovery of the above journal notations in a drawer at Williamson's office. A news conference will be held later today detailing the raid on the "Courious Finds" shop in Salem.

Dan Felstead

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.

Pretty In Pink

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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A poem for a flower.

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Harsh words.
Arms fold.
Backs turn.

Feet stomp.
Door slams.
Car drives.

Cry alone.
Hours pass.
Wait up.

Door opens.
Timid steps.
Soft voice.

Trembling hands
Offer flowers.
Peace made.

Crazy Mo

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.

Castle

Photo by Highlander
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Suggested prompt...
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Write a tale that includes this castle.

______________________

Empty eyes stare out across the headland to the wild waters. Crumbling, aged bones, tired of standing sentinel.

The soldiers of yore are long gone - their spears and cannon no longer trouble the castle. New foes now are wind, rain, sleet, snow and ice.

The succeed where humans failed. Seagulls and terns wheek and cry where lords and ladies once resided.

christine

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.

Ferris Wheel

Photograph by Highlander
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Suggested prompt...
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It happened on the ferris wheel.

____________________

Mary Sue sat alone in the seat. Waiting. "Single rider!" shouted the Carney. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. Just put the bar down and go, she prayed. All she wanted was a ride on the ferris wheel. To see the pretty lights from the top. Feel the sway of the chair.

"Right here," came a voice. It was Billy Wilson. He sat down next to Mary Sue and pulled the bar down, trapping them together. She lowered her eyes and glanced over at him through her lashes. Billy grinned. "I've been watching you," he said, "waiting for the right time to say something." Her heart skipped a little. "Really?" He nodded.

The wheel began to turn slowly, then faster and faster. As the chair rocked back and forth, they talked. About nothing. About everything.

“So when did you know?”

Mary Sue shook herself, grudgingly came back to reality. “What?”

“When did you fall in love with Grandpa? How did it happen?”

Mary Sue smiled wistfully at her granddaughter, as she stirred the cake mix. “It happened on the ferris wheel.”

Crazy Mo

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.

Long Shadows

Photograph by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Shadows from the rising/setting sun.

_____________________

It was more than i could handle as i stormed out of the house slamming the door behind me, and made my way across the lawn. I was shaking with anger, and could feel the tears wanting desparately to escape down my face but brushed them away. This time i was not going to give in to them. I was not in the wrong and i was sick of being made the bad guy.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply calming myself, letting my breath gush out and opened my eyes. The sun had already started to set behind the hills and as it did so it made the shadows of the trees stretch out across the lawn like long dark fingers. I looked around me and for the first time since moving to this house i noticed the beauty of my surroundings. The light played through the trees, like a cheeky child playing hide and seek. The scene being played out before me by the sun and shadows was like watching to lovers dance their last dance before parting ways.

This time the tears did escape. I never heard him come up behind me just felt his arms wrap themselves around me and heard his whispered words 'I'm sorry'. I leaned back into him as we stood in silence and watched the final glimmer of light disappear behind the hill and the shadows merge into darkness.

Unknown

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.

X - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Think of an X as a crossing...

crossing paths with someone, cross the things off your to-do list, crossing a river

use any thoughts that spring to mind creatively.

_______________________________

Lucy stood on the corner with a tear falling down her face. She wiped the hot salty tear off of her cheek, taking the smudge of her mother's lipstick with it. Clutching her lunch box against her chest, she waited bravely, knowing this would be the day that she would be a big girl. The first day of first grade.
She was prepared, with a box full of pencils and crayons and a pair of scissors and a bottle of glue, all with her name written on them in her own hand writing. A box full of things that belonged to Lucy was resting in her little back pack.
She looked across the street and saw taller girls doing cartwheels on the front lawn of the school yard, took a deep breath, and walked to the crosswalk. The woman in the orange vest came up, took her hand, and led her to the independent world called elementary school. It would be okay.

Kate

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.

T - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested Prompt...

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Twilight

______________________

Twilight arrives like a rapid train tonight. Plans to create my space have to be pushed until the first light. Why did I allow this day to slip on by? Am I that little girl again, fearful to take on a new challenge? Maybe I'm glad that twilight has arrived. I'm walking on a tight rope and too afraid to look down. Twilight wraps me up in my comfort zone. The creative me has to speak before the next twilight descends.

~ septembermom

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.

Misty Morning

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Offer a poem inspired by this image.

__________________


Wet with the mist,
she runs through the ages.

Her tale moves with her,
as she tumbles over rocks.

Nature whispers healing,
as she awaits her love.

Girl of all time,
maiden sees through the haze.

~ septembermom

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.

Quiet Whispers

photo by Highlander

Suggested Prompt -

Why are they meeting tonight?
Use that creatively to inspire your writing today.

_____________________

They met on the internet months ago. They had already talked about everything under the sun, but tonight they will finally meet in person.

Her friends advised against a nice dinner and told her that they should only meet for coffee. But she knew him, she knew all about him. She felt safe with their plans, and she wanted this dinner more than anything.

They sat in the fine establishment ... beautiful artwork on the walls, amazing ambience, divine food ... but all they noticed was each other. Their conversation flowed freely, and he even reached across the table and held her hand. Her heart melted. The evening was better than she could have ever imagined.

The faint music in the background inspired him. He stood and took her hand. Standing there by their table, they danced their first dance. People all around stopped and admired them, these two people lost in each other, unaware of their surroundings.

Unaware that his wife was walking across the room towards them.

~ Faith

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.

R - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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R is for Rescue, use the word rescue in your writing today.

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Vasco dressed by moonlight, lashing buckles and cords in lopsided knots with hasty yanks and tugs. He had no need to look presentable, just the need to flee, to run, to get to her side.

Flora needed him. He knew it. He could feel it. His blood was on fire. Every fiber of his flesh was screaming, reaching for her.
The horse was too slow. Dragging. Even as the trees zoomed past and the forest gave way to sand and the sand met the sea he felt hours dropping past impatiently.

There was no time. Never enough time. He knew she was dying. There was too much blood on that armor. Too much to leave any for her.

Flora. He stopped, jerking the reigns, leaping, running, falling in the surf to cradle her.

'I'm here to rescue you my love. Please, please wake up.'

But she would not stir and she would not answer and he knew, he knew, he was too late but he refused to know. And the horse was too slow again. And the buckles were pulled and fastened in haste. And his bride was lashed lopsided and carelessly to the rear of his mount.

And he looked to the sun, to the setting moon, and he rode as hard as he could across the waves until he could swallow no more of world's tears. And he choked and coughed and drowned in the salt brine of his pain.

Just as she opened her eyes.

~ Sarah

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.

Dark Bridge

Photo by Highlander
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Suggested prompt...
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You are on this bridge late at night...

Tell me the story or use it for a poem.

_____________________

I cross the bridge at night
remembering the day
with memories that fade
with every step I take

I re-cross at first light
that will turn into day
which fades to the night
when I cross the bridge again

Even though I retrace my steps
again and again,
I have walked further down the road

~ TVTommy

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.

Wee Robin

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Offer this little bird your creativity today,

poem, prose... something for this scene.

________________________

The dew is frozen on my window
The frost is crusted along the walk
The lantern's glow above the snow
Is beckoning a happy thought

The robin lights upon the ground
A stroke of red upon his breast
I wonder how the frost must feel
His tiny toes are froze at best

He hops from here to there about
As if to break away the white
His happy dance is filled with glee
Perhaps there's more to his delight

The spring is near, he seems to say
As I wonder at his soft compose
The bite of winter's presence here
Is shown upon my reddening nose

And so I stand upon the step
Outside my wintered walls
Then enter within its warm embrace
And when I peak, the robin calls

"You'll see, you'll see
My human friend
The frost indeed
Is yet to end!"

~ Dani and Jimmy

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.

Walk at Twilight

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Take a walk down this quiet street.

Smell the wet pavement, admire the color of the sky,

hear your own footsteps. Now write as you are inspired.

_____________________

The trees were bare, the ground was slick, and twilight creeped earlier every day. I'd long overstayed my welcome. I had even used the rain as an excuse to wait until evening to leave. Looking at Alex walking next to me was chore, trying to dam up the words in my mouth. Not that I ever had to say anything to him. He often knew just want I wanted to say, but he'd make me find the words anyway. But I wasn't going to look for them. I couldn't stay any longer, with my own responsibilities at home, and the second semester almost over. I knew if I stayed to see these trees glistening with ice and Christmas lights I'd never leave. Stopping a few meters from the bend, I unearthed my camera from my bag. Alex didn't say anything as I took three pictures. One of the house behind us. One of him, looking at me. And one of the road ahead.

~ I.N.Kwell

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.

K - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

Photo by Highlander
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Suggested prompt...
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King is in the castle.

Write a story for him.

_____________________________

My feet step upon this aging stone night after night, and becomes my prison. Those that look up to me feel as though I have all that I need, but what I want more than anything is to be free. To walk among them and feel the warmth of their soil, their somber company, share at their table, to feel their pain, so that I might return one day and become the ruler through his people, and bare their passion for life and truly know how to fulfill their needs as people, but here I sit upon this hill and know nothing but the loneliness of a birth right and wealth they cannot imagine could bring down these walls one day...

~ Chef E

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.

Carnival

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested prompt...

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Carnival...

________________________

"FASTER FASTER FASTER!" screamed Dylan.
"THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!" yelled Aidan.
"SHUT UP!" shouted Molly

TORNADO shot up into the dark October sky, and the rainbow colored compartments spun out to the sides. The speed increased, satisfying Dylan's demands. The wind blew past them so hard, that Aidan's azure eyes began to water, and Molly's blonde hair fanned out behind them.

"WEEEEEE!" screamed Molly, grabbing the two boy's hands, and reaching for the sky. Dylan released the popcorn bag he had been tightly clutching in his right hand, and it was whipped out of sight, down to the lingering kids below.

TORNADO turned, and the three teenagers slid to the left. Laughing, Molly fell on to Dylan, as Aidan fell on her. They swung back up, and suddenly, Dylan was falling on Molly, while she was falling on Aidan. As the colors whipped by, Aidan pointed with his free hand, to a bunch of seventh-grade girls who were giggling at the half-full bag of popcorn that had landed on a good-looking eighth-grader's head.

Soon, they were gone from sight. The ride began to slow, and Molly, Dylan, and Aidan stumbled off, the two boys laughing as she skipped around the basketball courts, tripping over her own feet. The two boys ran after her as she bounded up the steps of a jumbo slide, and went tumbling right behind her as she went down it. All three of them landed in a tangled heap at the bottom, shaking with laughter. As they got up, Molly planted a kiss on each cheek, and pulled them after her as she ran to picnic tables set up by the food stands. The trio collapsed onto the benches, and Aidan grabbed a new bag of popcorn off the tray of a passing couple. Dylan and Molly were giggling as they dug into the warm and buttery goodness.

"Let's go," suggested Dylan, after every last piece of popcorn had been consumed.
They moved over to the field at the edge of the basketball courts, and sank down onto the grass, looking up at the black sky, light by neon lights, breathing in the smells of popcorn and an October Carnival.

~ _we_the_pieces_

I really enjoyed all the writing offered for this wonderful picture. Thank you all who offered their imaginative writing here. - LJ

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.

Happy Holiday

Photo by Highlander

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Suggested Prompt

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Giving

___________________

Twas the night before Christmas and Cynthia sat.
She needed more money, there was no doubt about that.
She worked in customer care for a retailer's site
and she picked up extra hours that day and that night.
The phone rang constantly without a single pause
and she felt like she was busier than good ol' Santa Claus.
At one point the phone rang and she answered on cue,
"Thank you for calling, this is Cynthia, how can I help you?"
"Cynthia," the voice of a middle-aged man said,
"I'll bet you're very busy!" Cynthia nodded her head.
"Yes, sir, we have been," she said with a smile
and the man replied, "I'll bet you haven't had a breather in while!
"Do you have some water or a drink close by?
Go ahead and take a sip. I'll wait, I don't mind!"
Cynthia thanked the man and asked what he needed.
"Well, we both need a chuckle and I don't know how you've been treated."
He explained that he had placed an order not ten minutes before
just as an excuse to call in and cancel it and then a little more.
Cynthia canceled the order and asked what else she could do.
He proceeded to laugh and tell her a joke or two.
She smiled and laughed and thanked him for the break.
The gift he had given her was so thoughtful and great.
As they hung up she smiled and was filled with delight.
That one phone call had made Cynthia's whole night.

~ Cynthia

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