http://magpietales.blogspot.com hosts a weekly writing prompt, write a small vignette or poem using the photo below as your inspiration. This is mine. . .
She lay there on the cold hard ground. Her hair was fanned around her like a fire, crackling orange tendrils curling on the dark earth. Sparks of life in this chilling scene.
He felt his heart leap into his throat, the pulsing in his temples threatened to unbalance him as he felt the sweat oozing from hidden pores, it collected in the deep lines of horror etched into his brow.
His voice had gone, he tried with huge effort of will to summon it from deep within him where it had retreated. It came like a train through a tunnel, bursting out into the light .
J a n e! . . . the desperation in his voice released the tension in his body and he dropped to his knees and buried his unbelieving head in his hands.
Oh, hello, I didn't hear you there! What are you doing creeping up on me like that! - I was just trying to get a close up photo of these beautiful colours. Look at that turquoise and isn't the rust a wonderful accent? I thought we could use it in the dining room when we redecorate.
What on earth is wrong? she said, as she finally scrambled to her knees and turned to see him sobbing.