Stir the Pot
The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it. ~Jules RenardBelow are the really great pictures from which a thousand stories can flow.
They are next Tuesday's pictures for Portrait of Words.
The idea is to look at the pictures.
Choose four to six of them and write a story or a poem.
The official Portrait of Words sight is HERE.
But I hoped to get some other people writing so I'm trying to stir the pot a little.
Can't you just see a story or a poem there?
Petrovich's latest driblet. The other people in the Church cleaning crew are not at all sure of what they saw but they are very much afraid of what is coming.
The people who stood on the street and the highway for fifteen minutes seem unaffected by the event. They don't remember anything about it. Their life continues as it did before.
Old Mrs.Pemberthy was watching and old tear jerker on TV and can't understand how she missed the best part but she assumes she fell asleep in her chair. She does do that sometimes.
Tom Olson was watching a football game and can't understand how he missed two touchdowns. He is blaming the network.
The entire town of Pigeon falls and visitors seem to have no recollection of the vent.
Calab says that his friends the bouncing heads have been asking him why he stood on the road but he tells them he didn't. At least he doesn't think he did. They further point out that while he was on the road his mind was closed to them. They tried to contact him and couldn't. They promised him they would study what had happened and try to protect him in the future.