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

[Words to Image. A randomly chosen image that prompts a unique thought inside my mind. I write what I feel it says to me] Every evening, Pantilily would submerse herself in the waters of Eastern Gorge. Its healing powers brought about comfort and escape for her damaged body. She would wade in, sit, and allow the warmth of the setting sun to whisk her away until she fell asleep. By morning she would hopefully be healed. Troggery's task was specific, but to this day, he hasn't

[Words to Image. I've noticed that a lot of my thought process in writing pivots on something I will refer to as 'Beautification Within the Beast.' It's the act of taking something many will call dark and disturbing and find the beauty within it. Call it a silver lining, call it optimism. Take, for instance, death. The epitome of dark and disturbing. But can one find beauty within it? -As the autumn leaves began to die, the foliage cast a rainbow of colors across the mountain

[Words to Image. My take on a random picture. The story it screams is the story I write] Lindy lived in a world of silence. She had no siblings. No friends. Her parents would forget about her the entirety of the day. If she was off busy doing anything, she wouldn't be a burden for them to address. With no one ever to talk to, she held her thoughts inside. They never made it past her teeth. Lindy dreamed daily of a world outside of her quiet prison. She imagined tea parties an

[Words to Image. This little random image creating this little, short spontaneous story for my benefit and hopefully yours] Hank lived by his vision. He allowed his 3rd eye to see things in a different manner than how most people did. A blank canvas was never blank, to him. It was a foundation to a priceless masterpiece, waiting, begging him to breathe life into it. It was a starting point with possibilities that were limitless. If his eye could envision it, then he could mak

[Words to Image. A random image that pulls on my heart strings to give it a story. I allow it to lead me wherever it wants to go, and I type out whatever it asks me to. Spontaneous creation.] Darkness held me tightly. Its arms have been wrapped around my very being for as long as I can remember. It is a familiar feeling. A cold one, damp, and void of compassion. There is no love within its touch. I sit alone in the cool hours of the morning, while the world sleeps, and wonder

[Words to Image. A random picture and the story it asks me to write. This is what my soul imagines, so this is what I share with you] Every evening, the moon would come out to rule over the night. It would shine its light down on this post-apocalyptic wasteland, casting a glow for those who scurried about and creating a shadow for which to escape. Pytolemus understood the importance of this celestial savior. He welcomed its arrival like clockwork. Once the heavenly nightlight

[Words to Image. My take on what I see and imagine it to speak. A 15 minute creative piece of me. I hope you enjoy]   The most feared entity in the land was the dreadful Perplasia. Her cold heart inflicted torment and sadness upon every inhabitant within her realm. She grew to be fiercely jealous of the lovely Marian, in every way. She began to notice her happiness and positive outlook and decided to destroy it. It was something Perplasia could not possess, therefore it must

[Words to Image. Random picture/random thoughts, mixed together to form a spontaneous short story on the fly] Many people jot down their thoughts in journals. They log away their fears, joys, and aspirations to preserve them for future times. A quick flip back, a re-read and one could revisit their own hearts and mind. Pompeii met with the Yakatan every morning to share of himself. The Yakatan would listen intently to everything he had to say and silently record it within his

[Words to Image. A quick little write based on a random picture and my thoughts on what it says to me. Each one of these stories create themselves during a quick 15 minute breakfast. Quick, short, and imaginative] Percy was an overthinker. For ever question, he would imagine a possible answer. Doing so would send him down a rabbit hole of possibilities. A plethora of external reactions followed by a mountain of internal ones to match. Once that rabbit hole was too deep, he wo

[Words to Image. My take on a random picture. What it's speaks to me, I write] Every day at dusk, Tomas would walk about the land and gather the black roses of damaged hearts. He would pick them up from the streets, from the dirt, from every place they had fallen. When a heart died because 2 people failed to try anymore, he gathered them. When a marriage ended in adultery and one or both dropped their hearts, Tomas would be there to clean them up. When someone had to say good

[Words to Image. Random picture, my interpretational vibe, random story] Corbin betrayed his fellow man on a daily basis. Instead of standing on the decency of truth, he chose a world of fiction. Whatever he needed to say to whomever needed to hear it, for gain, favor, or impress, he was ruthless in his words. They were forked and calculated, piercing the trust he deceptively earned. Lies, lies, lies. He would create a dozen to cover up one that was in danger of being exposed

[Words to Image. My mental image inspired by a random visual one, pulled from my thoughts to share with you] Donovan lived a difficult life. He was forced to be strong. Always relying on his determination to carry him through. The universe tested him, though. It sent many challenges his way. Obstacles and trials, heartache and letdown. But Donovan refused to allow it to ever break him. He protected the force inside of himself from ever being devastated, by anyone or anythin

[Words to Image. A random story inspired by my vibes from a random picture] Baron stood before the Orb of Promise and gazed into the unknown. Many times, before he had been here, seeking guidance for the future, petitioning answers and direction. Today was no different. As he gazed into the swirling of colors, the sounds of Knowledge bellowed harsh warnings at him. They pierced the very air, sending ripples that echoed across the plains. He was no longer moved by fear, having

[Words to Image. It's where I allow a random image to create its own story within me. It dictates and I type it. I hope you enjoy] Sven stumbled upon a lost Mayan Book of Words while exploring the ruins of Belize. He quickly satcheled it and vowed to never tell a soul about the priceless find. Once safe from prying eyes, he ventured inside, slowly turning each page, soaking in the ancient marvel of it. Having studied their history and culture extensively, he was able to rough

[Words to Image] Izzabella was beautiful. She was praised by many and loved by all. Everyone desired to be around her. But Izzabella didn't love herself. She spent a childhood distant from the men in her life. She felt like they had always let her down. These feelings of sadness and questions of why molded her into the woman she would eventually become. She found strength in turning her heart from the soft warm instrument that fed her life and housed her happiness into a hard

[Words to Image] Mavrone was a bitter, evil man. He was the cause of everything bad in his life, but he refused to ever accept this. It was much more convenient to claim victimhood and project his grievances onto whomever, whatever, and whenever. Mavrone did not believe in anything positive. Every evening he would sit by the window and stare out at the streetside light and curse it. He wanted the darkness. Complete darkness. Yet, his hatred for the streetlight was too great t

[Words to Image. My mental take on a visual image] I never knew you. Our paths have never crossed. Yet, the connection we share has been one of the most powerful things in my life. I do not understand it and have often asked, why me? Why have you chosen to consume my thoughts the way you do? Are you not at rest? And what am I supposed to do with this? You do not haunt me, yet you do. It is not a fear that I feel. It is extreme sadness and gratitude. Your memory, despite mysel

[Words to Image] Lydia belonged to the underworld. Not death, a criminal organization in south Bronx. She dressed the part that got attention. From her coal black hair, uplifted and crazy with red highlights to the pale white makeup and darkened eyes and lips, she easily received lots of attention. When she walked into a room, all eyes landed on her. She could command an audience without saying a single word. Everybody wanted to know her and discover what she was all about. A

[Words to Image. Tagging a story to a random picture.] Willie D had spent many years playing the Blues. He always quoted the phrase, "You can't play the Blues if you ain't lived the Blues." And that he did. He had spent most of his adult life fighting against the current. Countless nights without any sleep, playing the circuits. Swallowing smokestack amounts of barroom nicotine, despite having never taking up the habit. The loss of a wife. She still lives with her new boo and

[Words to Image. My mental story based on a random image. I suggest you stare at the picture for a good 10-15 seconds, to imagine the scenario you might tag to it, and then read mine. A difference in perspective can be interesting] Arlaic was a captive in his own mind. His past, more horrible to himself than others, ruled his thoughts, his actions, his confidence. He found himself wrapped up in his own shame. His eyes could see nothing more than the mistakes he had made over