See Photo Write - Regret

Check out this week's

See * Photo * Write Photo Prompt over at 1st Writes!

 

 My response:

 

Dad,

What was your childhood like?
How did you feel when your baby sister died?
Were you popular in high school or a punk?
Was Grandma and Pop Pop strict as parents?
Where did you vacation as a child?
What did you want to be when you grew up?
How did you meet mom?
What did you think about her then?
What was your first car?
What did you think when I was born?
Did you hold me much?
What do you wish would have turned out different in your life?

Love,
Your daughter

See * Photo * Write

 
Here is my entry for See Photo Write over at 1st Writes!

Source

Jamal heard the village shouts from his place on his straw mat. His looked over to Mama, but she didn't move. He pushed her arm. She only groaned. 

He got up and walked weakly to the hut's makeshift wall and peeked out. His neighbors were running toward a truck that three white men had just gotten out of.

Visitors were sometimes bad, like when the soldiers took his brother, and sometimes good, like when they passed out food and clothes. He thought these white men looked good. He glanced back at his mother. What would she do? He looked over at the satchel. He knew what to do.

And imitating his Mama, he said, "Mama, you stay here where it is safe. I will see what the white men have for us."

He put the satchel on his naked body and had to hold it up so it didn't drag on the ground. Then he ducked under the doorway's black fabric and slowly walked toward the crowd. He only stumbled once.

Mama would be so proud of him. He was the man of the family now -- now that Rakoor was gone.

See * Photo * Write

I'm participating in today's See Photo Write on 1st Writes!
If you'd like to write too, post it on your blog and then head over to 1st Writes and linky to it.  
Happy writing!  

source

My response is below.

Why are we curious for things we can't have?
For fish in fishbowls that we want to grab.
We should be content with our current toys
And focus on what brings eternal joys.

The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you can endure. 1 Corinthians 10:13

This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. Hebrews 4:15

See * Photo * Write

I'm participating in today's See Photo Write on 1st Writes!
If you'd like to write too, post it on your blog and then head over to 1st Writes and linky to it.  
Happy writing!  

My response is below.

Alaylia Gerard was no ordinary girl. She could speak to birds. She learned the language from her great aunt who lived alone in a small cottage in Wharten Woods.

Source

Alaylia was six when she first met Great Aunt Lenore and she snickered, involuntarily, at seeing the lady's great beak-like nose. Her mother, always gracious, smiled at her aunt, and then quietly pulled Alaylia from the room.

"You must never do that again, that was rude. Great Aunt Lenore is very...special." She paused. "She has a special gift. And, she would like to share the gift with you."

They re-enter the room and this time Alaylia did not laugh.

The gift turned out to be lessons in Avish, the language of birds. The gift soon changed Alaylia's whole life. 

See * Photo * Write

I'm a little late getting this one in.

Check out See*Photo*Write Every Monday on 1st Writes! 

Join the fun. 
Write about it and then linky to it.

My response is below. 

Woman in white
Is sleepless tonight.
She stands in a daze
Under moon's silver haze.

Her gown is just so.
Hair and face once aglow.
Now ashen is she.
No relief from her plea.

The love is all gone.
Was she just a pawn?.
Will things ever be right
From being jilted tonight?

See * Photo * Write

Old Man and Cat by Iryna Smolych

Check out See*Photo*Write Every Monday on 1st Writes! 

Join the fun. 
Write about it and then linky to it.

My response is below. 

Russell leaned over and examined the tiny fluffball that was staring up at him.

“Nope, Cat, you ain’t comin’ home with me,” he said.

“Meow, meow,” the kitten said.

“I don’t need no stinkin’, poopin’ cat that coughs up hairballs on my favorite chair.”

The kitten rubbed up against Russell’s low hanging hand. Russell nudged it away. It came back and licked between his fingers.

Russell grumbled, but picked up the kitten. He stowed him inside his heavy coat and made for home.

See * Photo * Write

Check out 1st Writes'  

See Photo Write 

prompt on 1st Writes.  To join in the fun, write about the photo on your blog and linky it or just insert your writing in the comment section on 1st Writes.

 

Below is my response. 

"Put it on, Sissy!" Jake said.

Whitten looked at the large leaf. It didn't look magical to him, just big. He didn't believe Jake and the nonsense about some land called Nordenthal.

"It's just a leaf," Whitten said.

"No, it's not! You'll see. Put it on."

Jake was a bully, but he looked almost scared, which was weird. Whitten just wanted him to go away, so he put the leaf up to his nose.

"See, nothing..."

At that moment the mask stuck fast to his face. The smell of plant decay flooded his senses.

"Oh no! I told you! I told you!" Jake screamed, almost falling, flinging dirt and rocks as he escaped.

Then Jake and the school yard were completely gone. In a blink, Whitten was in a dense tropical forest. He heard voices yelling and then someone grabbed his arm. 

"We've got him!" a man in strange military gear shouted.

"You thought you could run away," the man said to Whitten.

Then the man looked at him oddly.

"You didn't seem this thin before." 

The man shook his head and shrugged, "No matter, you'll make a fine slave for Prince Clatrillian."

See * Photo * Write

Check out See Photo Write photo prompt on 1st Writes. 
 
My response is below. 

Saying Goodbye

by Dawn M. Hamsher

"Martha, I stopped by the fields today. I'm sorry to say that all the passion's just gone right out of me. Today it just looked like dirt. All those years of struggling on the farm. All that time, you stood beside me even when we didn't have two cents.  Remember when I'd come home covered in dust or grease from fixing a tractor? You'd have dinner all ready, but you'd have to clean up my messes first.

Oh, Martha. It's not the same without you. 

Honey, I made a decision. I'm going to go live with John and Ella. I think that would make you happy. I won't be alone and I'll have the grandkids to spoil. You always hated being so far away from them. 

I'll be moving in a couple of days. I just wanted to say goodbye to ya. I'll still be talking to you, but not here at the grave site. Hope that's ok. 

I miss you, Martha. You always were my best friend."

See * Photo * Write

This week's See Photo Write on 1st Writes is a Boo Boo. If you'd like to write using this photo prompt, type your submission on your blog, click here and linky up! The more, the merrier!

My response (a tongue twister poem):

Brayden Brian Beckham-Bricker broke the bike and bumped his ticker. His broken bones, they did not bother. What burned the most? It was his mother.

See Photo Write - Bottles of Lies

Today was my day to post for Monday's  
See Photo Write photo prompt on 1st Writes. 
I wanted some fantasy!  
If you'd like do this writing prompt, write a post and linky it on the See Photo Write link above! Below is my response. 
 
Bottles of Lies
by Dawn M. Hamsher

Alandra's aunt had always been a wild beauty with admirers from kingdoms near and far. Alandra never questioned the beauty until today when Mab stopped by. 

"Oi 'ave a package for Mistress."

"I'll give it to her for you."

"Oh, no young miss. It's only for 'er. Can't leave it, but oi late and Missus Blightly is a right crank, she is."

"Really Mab! Do you think I wouldn't give a package to my aunt?"

"Oh dear, oh dear, o' course you would. Forgive me, Miss." Mab bowed and quickly stuffed a small package into Alandra's hands, closing her fingers around it. She leaned in and her oniony words said, "This be only for your aunt 'n remind her to follow the directions exactly. I best hurry now!"

Alandra carried the package in and unwrapped its silvery paper and twine to reveal a little ornate bottle filled with a pearly white liquid. Attached to it was a hand-written note from the famous potion-maker herself.

Porcelain Skin Potion

Two drops, no more.

One per cheek will make skin like fine china.

As with the others, apply at sunrise.

                                                    --Golweina

Alandra slipped into her aunt's room and easily spotted the bottles on her dressing table. She could tell they were all from Golweina. They all had the same silver bases and slender tops. 

Alandra had always assumed that they were perfumes, but had wondered why Aunt Deidre had flown into a rage one day when she caught Alandra looking at one. Now she knew. They were powerful beauty potions, not to be played with.

Alandra set the bottle down with thump and looked in the mirror at her own reflection. She pushed her hair behind her ears. She could easily find fault with her crooked smile, her plain brown hair, and her ears that were a little too pointy. There was a time when she would have tried a potion, but not now. Drayden loved her the way she was. She smiled at that.

She left the potion, with its note still attached, there in front of the others, sitting on top of its silvery paper. She knew her aunt would be angry, but at least there would be no more lies.

See Photo Write

This is my 2nd post today. Scroll down for Sparkfest entry!

Monday's photo prompt on See Photo Write screams science fiction! I've never written that, so I'm excited to give it a try! If you'd like do this writing prompt, write a post and linky it on the See Photo Write link above!

Below is my response. 


Solitary Confinement
by Dawn M. Hamsher

The moon of Lydria was just a sliver on the horizon now. I'd watched this stupid moon for a month now inside this cramped security pod. How long would I have to wait to be summoned for my trial?

The pod, model CELL5800, was a spacious 6' x 6', one of the newest in the Galaxy fleet, so I had been told by the disgusting half-breed Mercenian guard. How lucky for me. There was just enough room to stretch out. Just enough room to go insane.

I have had plenty of time to explore my environment.  I have a luxurious seat, which folds down as a bed and up as a waste disposal unit. I have an exercise bar from the ceiling and I can turn the compartment's gravity on and off whenever I want or set it to the gravity level of my choice. Now that's freedom! 

The pod is installed with a 24 hour voice recorder. I guess they are hopeful that the solitary confinement will cause me to confess. Before being stuffed in here, another detainee yelled to me, saying that the pod will immediately take me to the security base for sentencing if I confess. Good to know. I wonder how many innocents confess just to get out of the box. Most of the time I just sing as loud and as off-key as I can in hopes that Security might tune in and get an agonizing earful.

The pod's autovender is stocked with waste disposal wipes, stale water, and 2 months worth of meals. Great. And first rate meals they are too, all dehydrated. I'd only heard about the brand DexGourmet before this. But now I can say I've had the pleasure of trying all the delicious-sounding meals: Blackened Leon Eel with Churod Rice, Savory Gero Tips and Kuloroots, Silon Pasta with Wild Truffions. Now I know the truth; They taste just like plasteen containers they come in. 

Oh, I almost forgot the best part of the pod. The window. The window with the most excellent view. Well, it was excellent for about a week. Now, I can't stand it. The water never changes. The darkness never changes. Only the moon changes like the slow creeping of time. I wonder how many other poor souls are out here in security pods, living out their own hell.   

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OK, blog buddies, did you like this? I enjoyed it so much I want to write more! Right now I have no idea if my character is male or female or if he/she is innocent or even what the charge is. What are your thoughts? Should I write more?

See Photo Write Challenge - Girl in the Mist

Wow, striking photo on 1st Write's See Photo Write (photo writing prompt) today!

Check it out and join us in writing. Just write about the photo and then linky it to 1st Writes.

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Here is my response:

He watched her as he had so many times before, but today was different. Something was wrong. She walked out on the rocks without her friends today when daylight still glinted on the water. She sat there for hours, sometimes rocking back and forth, sometimes bent over hugging herself. Her usual perfect hair hung lifeless and her perfect preppy clothes were mussed. 

Danny looked out on the lake. He could no longer see the tree line. The mist was coming in and soon he wouldn't be able to see his hand in front of his face. He couldn't let her stay out there. She might slip in. He might lose her.

What should he do? His kind didn't talk to girls like Alisha. His kind watched them and dreamed about them, but didn't approach them. He would be in big trouble if anyone found out. He waited as long as he dared, then walked over by the shore. His heart was pounding and he could barely speak.

"H-hi," his voice cracked. "The mist is coming in. Y-you should come away from the water." He waited for what seemed a long time before she even looked up. When she did, her vacant tear-stained eyes slowly focused on him. 

"You. You're the one --the one who watches me."

Danny said nothing.

"You shouldn't be here you know." 

He nodded to himself and looked down.

She got up, walked off the rocks past him, and headed back to her parent's lake house.

He shouldn't have talked to her, but at least she was safe now. He followed behind her till he saw her enter the house. Then he stayed till he saw her bedroom light go on. He was about to turn away when he saw her come to the window. Was she looking at him? He couldn't tell for sure. Then her right hand touched the glass. 

See Photo Write Challenge - Sieur de Monts Spring

See Photo Write is a Photo Prompt on 1st Writes! 

Here was today's photo prompt and my response.

Sieur de Monts Spring, Acadia, Maine

Eliza looked down.

They had been courting for two years. George continued to press her to set a wedding date. How could she tell him that didn't love him, that she had never ever loved him. She had been flattered that he had asked her to dance and it was easy to be near him, but she didn't love him.

"George, there's something I need to tell you..."

"Yes, Eliza dear. I am all ears."

"Oh George, I-I don't love you," she blurted.

He took her hand gently and whispered, "Eliza, I know that. I've known that a long time, but I love you and for me...that is enough."

----------------------------------------------------------------100 word drabble

See Photo Write Challenge - Cat Fight

There is a pretty cool photo on 1st Writes blog today for See*Photo*Write Challenge. I'm going to cheat this week and make my entry just 3 words! 

"Bring it on!"

Won't you join the fun and write something for the challenge? 

Just post it on your blog and link it to 1st Writes See*Photo*Write linky!

Touch the Crabby - A Poem

Every Monday, 1st Writes Blog posts "See Photo Write", a photo writing prompt. Anyone can join in! Just post your writing about the prompt on your blog and linky it on the 1st Writes' post OR copy and paste it into the Comments Section. Here is my entry for this week's photo boy and a crab. 


Touch the Crabby
by Dawn M. Hamsher

I touched it once.
I'll touch again.
Why won't the crabby
be my friend?

I want to hold him
close to me,
but he keeps trying to 
pinch me, see?

My mommy says,
"Leave him alone!
You're not allowed 
till you are grown."

But I don't listen.
I'm going to try
to get the crabby
one more time.

Rain

Writing Exercise: Write about this photo prompt. 

From 1st Write's -- See Photo Write. 

Post your writing about this prompt on your blog and link it at 1st Writes!

Photo by Toby Hamsher 2011, Cowan's Gap State Park

My Response:

Wet drops land hard and fast against the wooden planks.

The sudden summer storm catches us unprepared.

In halter tops and flip flops, we wait it out under a camping pavilion.

Rivlets of water trickle through my hair and down my back. 

I shiver at their tickles and catch a chill despite the 90 degrees.

No one talks, we just watch the rain. 

We listen to it pound on the roof. 

We hear it splatter through the tree leaves.

The rain is so hard that it shrouds the forest like a veil.

I breathe in its heaviness. I smell the pine.

I relax and close my eyes. I am there.

Note: This is fiction. I did not go hiking that day. My husband went and took this shot! I wished I could have gone and now I have, through my writing!

See Photo Write Challenge - Indian Dreams of Freedom

1st Writes now has a photo writing prompt, called "See Photo Write" every Monday! You can join in the fun by writing to the prompt, posting it to your blog, and then linking it!  For this week's photo click here! 

Here is my response to this photo prompt:

Indian Dreams of Freedom

by Dawn M. Hamsher

What am I doing here?

I've asked myself this question for 20 years.

I'm a warrior. I'm meant to ride free.

Yet, I'm here. Captured in cement in a schoolyard.

Children swing from my powerful arms.

Rust gnaws on my body and I waste away.

On my face is painted a silly grin, but I'm not happy.

If only I could break out.

I'd climb across one of those ponies I see passing by.

They have wheels, instead of legs, but no matter.

They'd work for a getaway.

And I'd whoop and declare my freedom.

That's what I'd do.