Run.

Not quite The Hemingway Day today, simply because I have too many words and not enough brain power left to edit them. I think I’ll go and plug myself into the mains and get a recharge. If only.

Run.

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Her footsteps blended into the pounding of each rain drop. As each one plummeted down his cheeks, she managed to get further away.

This post was inspired by the weekly photo challenge, and the photo is a still from a short film I made whilst at university, which all seems like a very long time ago now (because I am almost thirty, and very very tired.)

Stranger.

Today’s The Hemingway Day, telling tales of deceptive appearances…

Stranger.

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The pupils peering back weren’t hers.

Thanks to the Daily Post for the photo prompt.

Word.

Day20Triumph

 

The final day of photography101… ‘Triumph’.

Word.

“She stood up, and picked up the nearest cylinder and held it between her hands. It hypnotised her just as it did many years ago, the clear glass filled with spiralling tendrils of time, almost whispering from within.”

 

https://lauragabriellefeasey.wordpress.com/2014/10/03/time/

 

 

Death Sentence.

Day18Edge

Day 18 of photography101… “Edge”

Death Sentence.

Every now and again the glass would chime from the fluttering of limbs as he realised he was still incarcerated.

Fortune.

Day16Treasure

Day 16 of Photography101… “Treasure”.

Fortune.

The gong chimed, a bellowing command came from above, and from all corners they scuttled up the stairs, past the boxed bugs and through the dinosaur bones, onto the streets of Oxford. He hadn’t seen me. I stood looking over the curiosity filled cabinets and antique occupied closets, entirely alone with millions of years of treasure.

 

Hunt.

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Day 15 of photography101… “landscape.”

Hunt.

I edged lower into the rows of grain, willing the ground to be tight-lipped as it clicked beneath every movement of my limbs. A cracking resonated with every footstep he took. I froze just as his shins appeared above the kernels touching my forehead.

26.2

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Day 14 of photography101… “Swarm”.

26.2

The asphalt rolled under every stride, a convey belt of monotony if it wasn’t for the reason he took each footstep.

Bitter.

Day10Mystery

Day 10 of photography 101…’Mystery’.

Bitter.

Little bobbled droplets clung to the tips of my eyelashes, weighing heavily with every blink, but in the distance I saw life.