[WORDS TO IMAGES] Quick 15 minute written stories about random images and my perception on what they speak

[Words to Image. This random image really pulled at me heart strings. And this is the story it wanted me to write.] Every evening at 10:30, Oculani would perch atop her throne of human bones and scribe the names of tomorrow's deceased. She spent the next hour and a half transferring the names from the Ever-Knowing pages onto the Mighty Stone of Endings. Once written, each name burst into flames and scorched the solid surface of the stone, fire carving them into existence for

[Words to Image. In lieu of the approaching holiday and my short hiatus from W2I, I felt the need to combine the two in a random image to random story drop) The Mox Fed thrives on the written word. When creation was in play, one would never see them. As long as a story was being written, on a daily basis, they would stay hidden. But allow 3-4 days to pass by and the story becomes settled, nothing written/nothing happening, the Mox Fed will appear. And they come with a vengean

[Words to Image. A random image pulls on my attention. I choose it, listen to it, and allows it to create a thought/story within my mind, which I share here. This is what I imagined] Morsie returned to her past and found the very mother who made her what she would become. She didn't earn the title because of blood but through her many selfless moments of love. Morsie was a tag-a-long child. Her parents never knew where she was, nor really even cared. As long as she was out of

[Words to Image. 3 ingredients: *A random image *A random inspired thought *The willingness to put them both to words 'Bon appetite'] The nature of how they met was pure destiny unfolding. A simple adventure with a childlike mindset, set in motion the single greatest connection young Kory had ever and would ever know. As he walked down his familiar path, he stopped, glanced upwards, and remembered the awesomeness of wonder and amazement he had known and felt many days long go

[Words to Image. I see it, it sees me, we agree on a quick 15-minute story, and I share it with you] Everybody has a song. One specific song that represents your life. It's not one that you purposely chose or even one from your desired genre of music, but you have one. One you will never know. But there is someone who does ... Death. Every morning, Death sits at his piano and plays your song. He runs his cold boney fingers across the ivories, up through the highs and drops of

[Words to Image. I take a random picture and stare at it. It speaks to my imagination, and I spend the next 15 or so minutes typing my take on it] Cynthia asked to be included, but the others said 'no.' There were no articulable reasons, as to why. It was merely a group denial triggered by one simple thought. A questionable supposition. As time passed, no one remembered the thought or even who spoke it. All that was recalled was a constant rejection was in play and the norm s

[Words to Image. When I look at randomly chosen images, they speak a story to me. They spark thoughts of a scenario and paint a mental image within my mind. I run with it and write it down. This is my perception of what it said] She felt the solid surface beneath her feet begin to give. "What is this?" she wondered. The hardened sand softened, for in its place was now multiple inches of uncertainty, a watery prison that could possibly ensnare her. The depths of where she stoo

[Words to Image. This random picture, my mental take on it, these words below] He asked her an open-ended question and listened intently to her answer. It amazed him that her perspective was quite different than his own. Not entirely, just minimal aspects of it. Their core explanations used the same words and phrases. Their descriptors held similar flavors. Their processes only paralleled each other's part of the time. Other times, they strayed. Ultimately, the two lines retu

[Words to Image. A random image and my thoughts on how I feel about it. What it tells me. What it shows me. What I see] Ariel was born without the use of her eyes but possessed the uncanny ability to see beyond the restraints of what others knew. She wasn't bound by the limits of those around her. Her remaining senses worked together in harmony, creating a real-time image of the world, as it was, people, as they were, situations, and things unseen, unheard, and unknown ... as

[Words to Image. A random image, a thought pertaining to it] Peter stared out at the vastness surrounding him. He saw his past, his present, and his future. It is such a big place , he thought. He sighed. "Where do I fit?"

[Words to Image. I chose this image, and this is what it chose to speak to me] The people of a certain community began to worship a social algorithm. It had an "uncanny way of knowing what we were talking about." Their screens started to suggest this and that, based on their normal viewing activity, baffling them. Little by little these tiny suggestions began to be viewed on a much higher level, something more 'divine.' When two friends shared their hearts desires, back and f

[Words to Image. A random image that could tell its own story. It could be perceived differently, person to person. This was what it said to me] "It says right here that if I trust in his goodness, I will be rewarded with everlasting life. Well, isn't that a real kick in the head? What good is that going to do me now?" "Perhaps there is still hope for you, Sire." The foolish skeleton knew not what he spoke of. Carrera had been banished to the never regions of the Darkness, si

[Words to Image. This image really spoke to me, so I had to give it a very heartfelt story. I hope you enjoy] Creed sighed the heaviest sigh of his entire life as he dropped to his knees. Each kicked up the dust which blew into his tired eyes. He closed them. They hurt. Fitting, in this moment. His entire life had been a fight. All he had ever known was the struggle within. Why must everything be against him, he wondered. He chased his emotions with a second sigh and felt his

[Words to Image. I take the random image and do what I do, giving it a voice. And you take the voice and do what you do, imagine the imagine. 1 story, 2 paths, 1 love] After one million years of constant, the Element goddess, Isis, began to grow weary from her frigid temperatures. She started to show signs of decreased movement and blurred thoughts. The subzero degrees were affecting her zest to freeze the universe where it must be. Her ability suffered. The Element god Fier

[Words to Image. Give me a random image and whatever it says to my mind and heart, I will type it. All things are not obvious. Perception of the mind could be completely different than that of another's. This is mine for this image] Every day, Olivia would lay hands on the Rose of Rewards. She never picked it because of the power it possessed. It gave favors, and to possess it would destroy the magic. The rose gave to all petitioners freely, but only when duly earned. A faile

[Words to Image. When I look at a random image, it tells me a story. I type it. So, I ask myself, am I typing its story ... or my own? Either way, I type it.] Each time the wind blew, it pulled away pieces of the past. Tiny pieces of the good as well as the bad. The gentle breeze would carry the particles away to wherever they landed, they didn't care. As long as they were discarded, it didn't matter where. The two youths had lived short lives but had already experienced many

[Words to Image. I choose a random image and listen to it. What it speaks to me, I type. This is how I perceive the image to tell its own story] Lei always felt as if she was born in the wrong time. Her heart and soul desperately wanted to leap ahead into the future and leave the tasks and mindsets of the old world behind. The rest of the world had evolved, so why must her little community stop the clock the way they do? She grew weary of words like 'proper' and 'duty.' Every

[Words to Image. A random picture, a quick random story. Something different] Every day at noon, Polly ventured out to the middle of town to visit Haircut, as the town's folk called it. Haircut was a twenty-five-foot guillotine rudimentarily constructed from old lumber and refurbished nails. The town's people had decided that a deterrent was needed to cut down on the recent surge of lawlessness, so every abled man volunteered their services to erect this reason to stay in lin

[Words to Image. An image chosen randomly and the story my mind perceives it to tell. This, I type] King Leonardus basked in his riches, daily. The sum of his wealth meant more to him than the touch of a woman, the sound of a babbling brook, or the screech of a majestic bird. He was soothed by the sight of what he possessed. It defined him and blinded him, as well. Twice a day he would summon the guards to accompany him as he strolled throughout the streets, soaking in the en

Words to Image. A random picture that creates a random story within me. Ironically, this fits the jist of my thoughts. I hope you enjoy] When the morning dew was about a half hour away from dropping from the vines, Lilith and Azazel would meet in the clearing between the pines. It was the only forbidden place in the universe that was private, a tiny area that was damned and off limits to everyone. Even the creator paid no attention to this miniscule partial of desolate soil.