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Thread: Picture Prompt!

  1. #1
    Mexican on the loose! DamaNegra's Avatar
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    Picture Prompt!

    Okay, let's do a picture prompt! I'll post a picture and you have to write a short story revolving around it, okay? No word limit but please no novels! This is all for fun.

    Okay, here goes:

    Ac in topehuaz in itlaxillo in ihuicatlan?


  2. #2
    Banned persiphone_hellecat's Avatar
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    Come on, Fluffy, I've told you this one a million times already. A flush beats a full house.

  3. #3
    banned as an incurable tosspot davids's Avatar
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    Do not scratch me there-how many times have I told you-even I have my limits-fold by the way-you aint got nuttin. Yah I know it is more of a caption I suppose!

  4. #4
    This is my BEST side! threedogpeople's Avatar
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    Oh, look, Fluffy, you got get well cards from the mailman and the paper carrier.
    Anybody miss me? I'm B A C K....




  5. #5
    Agent of Doom Unique's Avatar
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    "You're doing great kid but lose the smile or everyone will know we're holding aces. Do what I do and think about flea baths. It works every time."
    Eat right, exercise, die anyway.

  6. #6
    "Look, Tippy! These are the naughty ones I got in France. See? Here's Orlando Bloom in his skivvies!"

  7. #7
    Banned persiphone_hellecat's Avatar
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    Hey look! These are those dirty playing cards that Persi has on her avitar!

  8. #8
    Banned persiphone_hellecat's Avatar
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    The morale of this story -- never play poker with reflective surfaces behind you. It's one thing when YOU know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em, but its quite another thing when your opponents do, too. How are we going to explain to Mom that we just bet the farm?

  9. #9
    Agent of Doom Unique's Avatar
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    "These are the little business cards of Jesus. They always pass them out at funerals. I collect them all over town! Just wait til I put these on e-Bay; we'll be rich!"
    Eat right, exercise, die anyway.

  10. #10
    Banned persiphone_hellecat's Avatar
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    Dammit Fluffy, the paparazzi is following you home now!

  11. #11
    Mexican on the loose! DamaNegra's Avatar
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    Ok, next picture!!

    (Artwork by Jacek Yerka)

    Ac in topehuaz in itlaxillo in ihuicatlan?


  12. #12
    figuring it all out
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    FIRST CAME CAIN

    Then came the plague that was not the true plague, and then came the cure which was.

    Men could not die, and neither could they live.

    Ralph lifted the old ratty photo to allow the whale oil lamp to cast it's pumpkin orange light on it. It was a picture of his great great great great great Grandmother Cynthia (on his great aunt's side of the family) and her dog TomTom.
    Though the dog was gone, the ancient ancestor was not. She lived on the top floor of the great abode of the family, a place of honor.
    The last time Ralph had visited her she had yammered endlessly of what was lost. Great fields of grass and trees and valleys and other things with no more meaning to him than unicorns. No meaning at all, and he wondered if she even remembered what those things were like.

    While their skeletons remained, trees were as rare as the moth or caterpillar, as intangible and foreign as the God called Death, a distant phastasm, an idea like the dog in the photograph.

    Ralph's stomach rumbled at the thought of dog. He had had it once, thirty years ago, after his father Lone had won the San Fran Archipelago's yearly lottery. He gave his son a quarter of the feast and had commanded him to not talk about it with those who had not partaken. Pride was not always a sin, but boasting was asking for trouble. Many members of the family were hated by half of the others, and there was hardly enough room for love as it was.

  13. #13
    RIP, our sarky besom Requiescat In Pace arrowqueen's Avatar
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    Once those fires hit the trails of gunpowder, the insurance money was in the bag.
    [b][color=darkorchid]Rejection is Nature's way of telling you to write better.[/color][/b]

  14. #14
    figuring it all out
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    "You think my buttocks are funny? You think my buttocks are funny!"

  15. #15
    RIP, our sarky besom Requiescat In Pace arrowqueen's Avatar
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    Harold wondered exactly where the rest of that snake had gone.
    [b][color=darkorchid]Rejection is Nature's way of telling you to write better.[/color][/b]

  16. #16
    Agent of Doom Unique's Avatar
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    "Don't kill me! I wouldn't have laughed if you had been wearing clothes.''

  17. #17
    No, I'm little people now johnnycannuk's Avatar
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    For the Jacek Yerka

    “Hello?” called Sasha, his voice echoing off the walls.


    “Keep it down boy, we don’t know who runs this one,” mumbled Grampa, squinting at the windows and leaning on the wheel.


    His navigation was off again. There was not supposed to be an island here, none at all, but this one appeared out of the fog silently, as if it arose straight out of the ocean. Grampa glanced down at the mouldy chart folded in his hand and shot another look at the apartment block drawing closer, just off The Caliope’s starboard bow.


    “Get the guns lad, we need to land.”


    Sasha smiled and bolted for the cabin. Grampa shuffled to the rail and cocked his right ear to the fog bank.


    Nothing. A breeze humming through the driftwood plants on the block and the creaking of the boat under his feet. The bonfires crackling, now only 10 meters from where he stood.


    But no voices, no calls of anger or joy, no pleading for help. Nothing.


    Grampa frowned.


    “Where is everybody, Gramps?” whispered Sasha, creeping in under his grandfathers arm and holding up sawed-off pump action.”I thought we weren’t gonna see anyone on this run?”


    Grampa slowly reached out and grabbed the gun and, without taking his eyes of the building, moved slowly to the bow.


    “Wind must have changed on us, we aren’t supposed to be anywhere near the New York islands…but that is certainly one of them. Might be one of the old Lower East ones, but the shape.”


    He gripped the rail and readied himself for the jump.


    “They’re in there, lad. Beach fires don’t light themselves, even in this unholy place.” He turned and looked at Sasha, his wrinkled grey eyes stern and serious “You ready to use that thing if you need ta? No more cardboard cuts-outs boy, this will be the real deal.”


    Sasha’s excited smile melted away and he turned to look the rusting silver Glauck in his hand.


    “Sure Gramps, I guess..but where are they?”


    Grampa struggled over, holding the rail in his left hand and clutching the shotgun in his right, white-knuckled and still looking at the windows, now looming high above them. He splashed into the water and leaned toward the shore and the roaring fire just beyond the water’s edge.


    “Get that sail down boy and help…help me get The Caliope to shore,” he grunted, weezing against the weight of the boat as he spoke.


    Sasha jammed the gun in his belt and lowered the stained canvas tarp that served as the boats main sail, scurrying across the deck, shooting looks alternatively between the apartment block and his grandfather hanging off the rail. He ran to the front, grabbed the rope and lept into the water on the port side and pulled until he reached the fence.


    The Caliope was tied off.


    Sasha moved around and joined Grampa next to the fire. Grampa was crouching with the shotgun cradled across his thighs, while he warmed his hands and looked from window to window.


    “Who are they, Gramps?” asked Sasha, still whispering.


    “Survivors, Sasha, the Left-Behinds. Not much different than us, except they couldn’t get out when the sea came in.”


    He swept his left hand behind him, toward the open fog enclosed ocean from where they had just come.


    “This whole place, as far as the eye could see was a city, boy. As far as the eye could see. Each of the shoals we navigate around is a roof, each island the top of building that was tall enough not to get covered. There aren’t many of them.”


    He stood and gripped the gun in both hands, ready to pump, his eyes still locked on the buidling and the doorway.


    “When the caps melted and the floods came, thousands were trapped. Most didn’t make it, but a few survived. Of course there was no help for them. The whole damn world had gone to hell by then. I heard tell that whenever a boat came close, the Left-Behinds would call out for help, only to be killed, or worse, by the mauraders. Went on for years before they figured it out. Been about 50 years now and they just as soon kill yas as look at ya. They know there’s no resuce and no help.”


    “But they lit the signal fires. They must want to get help, or call us in even to trade”


    Again Grampas eyes filled with concern and seriousness turned to Sasha.


    “They aren’t signal fires boy, they’re to keep the crocs away. That’s why each doorway and beach has one. That’s why the fences go out into the ocean. They don’t want those ocean crocs coming for them.”


    Sasha spun and for the first time turned his back to the apartment block. To him, every wisp and wave looked like the eyes of a creeping reptilian death coming for him.



    Grampa never moved, never turned.


    Sasha jerked his head to the left when he felt his grandfather’s hand on his shoulder. He was looking at Grampa’s left ear for over 10 seconds before he caught what he was looking at in his peripheral vision. He slowly turned to his left until he was facing the same direction as his grandfather, pulling the gun from his belt and dropping it to his side as he moved.


    In a darkened window on the second floor, the red orange heater of a cigarette glowed, faded and the smoke drifted up into the light of the window above it.


    “Ready boy?”


    Grampa pumped the shot gun and stepped forward.


    “We’re here to trade,” he shouted to the cigarette “We don’t want no trouble.”
    "Never by hatred has hatred been appeased, only by love" - the Buddha

    More on my blog

  18. #18

  19. #19
    No, I'm little people now johnnycannuk's Avatar
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    Amazing what the seredipity of seeing that picture prompt while listening to Sloop John B. by the Beach Boys can conjure up, eh?

    Thanks, glad you liked it.
    "Never by hatred has hatred been appeased, only by love" - the Buddha

    More on my blog

  20. #20
    Somehow he knew that his collection of lolly sticks had taken control of him . . .



    (Artwork by Jacek Yerka)

    [/quote]
    The world revolves, as it always has, around people who Do
    ~ brokenfingers

    Plot is a verb.
    ~ Ansen Dibell

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