(Continues from Purple)
I took the midnight train too far found all
in ruins when I debarked at last call.
Clouds oppressed the green sprawl but I stood tall
listening for the telltale caterwaul
of an emerging story struggling
to break free, be told, show its coiled spring.
The sun picked up its golden head when I stepped off the platform and raised its brush. It tinted the sky as I strode to the walls of an ancient church. One of the bricks wriggled drawing my eye. Hello there fussy masonry, have you a story to tell?
What befell your owners? A plague? A barbarian horde? Circling the walls, I noted the front remained, but the back had collapsed, and so had one whole side. The sky roofed the damaged church with puffy clouds. Through a window missing its stained glass, the sun poured molten light on me. What stories do you have to tell?
“What stories do you have to tell?”
But the church brooded and made no reply. Its silence cut me, and so did its sharp profile standing out against the sea of grass. It was a bastion of the past.
“Fine keep your secrets. You’re not the story I seek. You can’t set me free.”
I walked on leaving the ruins behind. I needed people. I needed stories. And the lights burning on the distant hill offered both. I had nothing but time, so I ambled toward them and homed in on a new story.
All 31 prompts are pictured below.
Thanks to The Writing Reader for the picture prompt.
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