Tag Short Story
After Magritte – VisDare 34
Here’s my latest offering for Anonymous Legacy‘s photo-inspired prompt, VisDare. This week’s prompt word is ‘Fearless’. The rules are simple:
150 words – or less.
Post entry to your blog and “link in”.
(Please – no erotica or graphic violence.)
DON’T FORGET to read and comment on others’ entries!!
The photo is below, and my piece follows. Let me know what you think, and give it a go yourself, why not?
– After Magritte –
“I call it ‘Ceci n’est pas une sheep’. It’s an homage to the great artist himself.”
“But I don’t understand. It clearly is a sheep. It’s not a representation, which I believe was Magritte’s point. There is a living, breathing and – oh God! -defecating sheep on the dining table!”
The silence yawned wide between us. I could tell she was terrified that she had called me on my explanation – admirably courageous of her. I suppressed a smile – it was much too soon. Exploring all of these different art forms, sharing them with the media, was doing wonders for my reputation.
“All I will say is that you are searching amongst the obvious. I see you are still learning about this world we call… Art.”
The look on her face as she scribbled down her notes – it will last me a long time. Until we meet again.
Undercurrents – Five Sentence Fiction
It’s time for my latest offering to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, a weekly prompt where there is no word limit, just a limit on the number of sentences. Plus, although she provides a word prompt, it is just for direction only – you don’t have to include the word itself in your contribution.
This week, the prompt is very apt for me, as I will be off on a week’s holiday tomorrow (hurrah!) – TRAVEL.
Do let me know what you think of my offering below – and whilst you’re at it, why not take a look at everyone else’s offerings (I’m sure they’ll be fabulous), and even give it a go yourself…
*****
– Undercurrents –
He had spent most of the past year planning the journey; it had been on his mind every day.
How to conserve his energy, what route to take, how to survive the most desolate of places – it had been a relief to stop thinking and finally set off.
Now at last his destination was just visible on the horizon, and the relief at knowing that he was almost there, that he had survived insurmountable odds, was indescribable.
He scanned the land below; the cities, the deserts, the forests and the seemingly endless oceans were now a distant memory in his mind, to be savoured when he came to rest.
The air whistled past as he adjusted, turned and prepared to land; migration was over, for another year.
Copyright – Freya
Freya Writes... 