MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “writing prompt”

A single moment on track

©Dawn M. Miller

That autumn day, just when the train was following its tracks under the tunnel into the mountain, with the crispy leaves brushing against the half-open windows, is exactly when she realised her life had changed.

They were playing card games in an almost empty wagon. Their laughter echoed in the wooden cabin. It was the sound of sincere joy.

She was gleaming all over. His eyes reflected her happiness. That innocent pure love of life that belonged to a child. He made her happy.

It was then she realised she was in love. And that would inevitably change her forever.

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Magic waterfalls

©Dale Rogerson

“Look”. She saw his hand rise and point to the source of that calming sound they were hearing a while now. It was still the beginning of winter and the water was flowing rapidly.

She always loved that sound it makes. She found it stole your troubles and drowned them into its soothing flow.

“Listen”. She said. They stood mesmerised with the sunrays bathing their faces. It was a welcome touch in that cold morning.

Whatever happened, waterfalls had a magical way of making everything better. And of bringing them closer together.

Water, after all, is the source of life.

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Where a bridge could lead

under-bridge

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It was under the rubble of an old bridge that it all started. A bright rainbow-filled day that followed a rainy all-nighter. The clear, still water under the bridge reflected their smiling, still shy, faces.

No-one ever really knows what they’re getting themselves into.

At first sight it was all ideal. It was a meeting dominated by charm, delight, humour and those sneaky butterflies that roam around in your stomach when you’re super excited about something.

Intuition was asleep. Or, like us all, wasn’t sure about where all this would lead.

A bridge, though, is symbolic. It joins two parts.

 

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Sculpted memories

js-brand-tree

©J.S. Brand

The things you remember are the things that are strange. The ones out of the ordinary, that are often nothing like expected.

When Mario told her he had a surprise-picnic planned, what immediately sprung to mind was something romantic, in a green field, with tall trees, flowers, silence and plenty of fresh air for them to breathe in and relax. They would also preferably be alone.

What happened though, was something Marisol could never forget. Mario took her to the neighbourhood park, where he prepared a mini-barbecue, under a sculpted tree.

He said this would surely create a lasting memory.

 

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Be the chess player

chess-eyes

©Jeff Arnold

Chess is a game of tactics. One where forethought wins. It embodies life skills.

That’s why her grandfather taught her how to play since she was only a child. He said a chess game resembles life in that you shouldn’t waste even a single move.

At first she could never win a game. But like a Japanese proverb says, “we learn little from victory, much from defeat”.

Every movement of the chess pieces had to be carefully planned. It required independent and cautious thinking. She learned to move in silence and only speak when it was time to say ‘checkmate’.

 

Chess helps you to concentrate, improve your logic. It teaches you to play by the rules and take responsibility for your actions, how to problem solve in an uncertain environment” – Russian chess grandmaster Garry Kasparov

 

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Set in stone

stone-house

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It was part of their family heritage ever since her relatives remembered. But she was around to see it refurbished. The stone walls were whitened and reinforced and the interior completely renovated.

As a child, she pretended it was her castle and she was longing for her prince to come riding along on a white stallion.

Over the years, she stopped being so demanding though. He didn’t have to have a horse. And he didn’t have to be royal.

When she saw him approach, she realised that all that mattered was him being a decent person. And to love her.

 

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The tenant of the clock

jhc-clock

©J Hardy Carroll

It was a present from the global travels of a great uncle. It was a gift passed down each generation. It was one that carried the history of its owners with it.

It was finely crafted and had an essence of another era. It stood out in every home it was placed. But that was its point after all: to remind you that you should stand out of the crowd.

One night in its new location, a faint scratching woke everyone up. It wasn’t the clock ticking.

It was something hiding inside the clock-tower: a tiny kitten seeking a home.

 

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A night view that unites

gah_window

©Gah Learner

Look at that full moon. Just days ago, it was but a slit in the night sky. Barely even visible. And now…it illuminates the darkness”.

She stared at the empty page highlighted by her lamp. Still not a word. She just couldn’t get her feelings out. All the words were swirling in her mind. A hurricane inside that refused to exteriorise itself.

And all she could do was stare out the window at the view. It was an essential part of the house they bought together.

Maybe he too is staring at this very moon now too. Wherever he is”.

 

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Reflecting feelings

nathan-sowers-dawn-millers-friend

©Nathan Sowers

It was the only thing left over from the yard sale. And she didn’t understand why. If she could afford it, it would have been the first thing she would spend her money on. It was plain and “normal”, but sometimes what looks simple is more than that. Plus, it definitely had a story. It must have. Nothing so “ordinary” was every what it appeared to be.

As the sun set, she found herself mesmerised by it. The clear reflection of the garden shed had captured her attention.

Or perhaps it was the flickering light that appeared at its window.

 

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A ritual of light

tribute-carla-bicomong

©Carla Bicomong

It was a ritual held once a year. Usually at the end of summer. Around the time of a full moon. People of all ages would gather by the coast and with almost religious reverence quietly place the one they brought and lit onto the water.

The paper lanterns would first fill the surface of the water like floating candles. In the midst of the night, it was a calming sight.

Then another series of flying lanterns would be released into the sky.

It was a symbol of hope, of light taking over the darkness, of optimism and ever-present life.

 

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