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[starkenigma]

Hey, all my readers that write-

Pick one of the pictures below, or find one of your own. Then write about it in a comment. A sentence, a novel, I don't care. Just get those juices flowing.

Comments

First Memories

[one_word_more]

Later, the details would never matter. The boy would forget the toy he had been holding, the scrape on his knee, the feelings of tenderness that had still lingered from his mother's kisses ushering him out the door. The sounds of the other neighborhood children, so prevalent in reality, would in memory fade first to a quiet murmur of laughter and foreign language, then to nothing more than soft whispers at the end of a long corridor

[ryuessence]

She's become a bloody English teacher! I'll write about the babushka with the dog soon's I get more time.

[leaena_parthena]

that first girl has a crazy resemblance to the girl with a pearl earing by vermeer

[smolderingstars]

Because sometimes it's easy to forget that grief can transcend culture. It can transcend time. Faces, places, anything.

Oh honey, oh dear, oh my beautiful blue darling. Please look at me. Your downcast eyes are the difference between sadness and paralysis.

(it's too bad it makes you gorgeous)