As per my usual, this is an image selected to give the most tantalizing inspiration.
This image is inspiring to me and I hope it is for you as well. Here is what I wrote.
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She hung on his every
word. Watching him in the candle light
as he recounted the tale of the ghostly form that haunted the old house they
lived in. Never once was she afraid as he spoke, until the end of the story when there was a sudden thump
from overhead.
“What was that?” she
whispered.
“That? Oh, never mind about
that.” Her father said calmly.
Meanwhile, she started to
shiver a bit and wrapped her arms around her body.
"Now, you're not scared are you? There's nothing to fear. It's just a story and I doubt if it's even true." He said trying to calm her. But, she was not calm. Something inside her now knew the truth.
Leaving her in the shadowy room, her
father walked to the kitchen.
Alone now, her imagination took a hold of her. She began to believe in the story her father told.
In bed that evening, she lay
in the dark, listening to the quiet. Every
noise, no matter how low, no matter how insignificant, fed her imagination.
Pictures of unknown evil invaded her mind, voices rang in her head, smells and
sounds now confronted her reality.
A voice spoke. Was it real? Was it in her mind? She couldn't tell.
"Come to me child." The voice called. It sounded distant and weak.
"Come and find me." It said, stronger now.
As though in a trance, she rose from
her bed and dressed. Outside, the night air was
warm and humid against her bare skin.
The full moon lit up the landscape and glowed in the few leaves still
clinging to bare branches.
She walked. Barely aware of her surroundings, she walked. With no understanding of what she was doing,
she walked. Her eyes were open, but saw
nothing.
"I'm here!" The voice cried.
"You have found me!"
She stopped. She stopped
and stood. She stood waiting, waiting for someone, something.
There in the moonlight, staring straight ahead, without moving, she
stood.
Her only sensation was the
cold she felt as the shiver went up and down her spine and the night drew close
around her.
In the morning, her father
called her down for breakfast. He
received no answer. She would never
answer him again.
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Despite being pretty busy with non-writing things right now, I do still find enjoyment in writing practice. Lately, I've been writing stories about my childhood. These little snippets of stories are fun to put together and are good practice for writing stories about other members of my family.
Perhaps I'll share some of these with you in the near future.
So what would you write if inspired by the above image? I'd love to share your writing. Please leave a comment.
Happy Halloween!
