Welcome to my weekly photo prompt! Every Monday I will share a photo which I like, and taking it as a starting point, I’ll endeavour to come up with a piece of creative writing. This might be a 100 word story, a poem, haiku, limerick or long piece – I’m not setting any rules apart from committing to a regular writing challenge to exercise my brain. If you like the image I’ve shared, please feel free to use it as a prompt for your own work, give me a pingback and I promise to read and give my feedback.
The photos I use will be either my own or taken by my snap happy husband, so you have our permission to use them for the purpose of this writing prompt. If they aren’t our own photos, I will only use them with permission and credit them to their source.
So without further ado, here’s this week’s photo, and my take on it:
“You have the memory stick?”
Pollard handed it over. He didn’t make eye contact with Vickers, who was inserting it, almost hungrily, into the laptop.
“The agents are in place. Once the Foundation have this data… it’s just a matter of time…”
Pollard looked out of the window, the light fading fast in the winter sky, the thin covering snow on the muddy field where he’d played football as a boy. Those memories seemed like they belonged to someone else now.
“Pity to think all this will have to go…” he muttered.
“Not getting cold feet Pollard? Because you know the Foundation doesn’t accept resignations.”
Pollard turned back to the book-lined room, and looked directly at Vickers, standing in front of the fire, whisky glass in hand. The open laptop on his desk showed that the data upload was complete.
Let me know what you think in the comments, and if you’d like to share your own piece of writing in response to this photo prompt, I’d be delighted to read it!
5 thoughts on “Weekly Photo Prompt: House”
Vickers stashed the memory stick in his man bag and started heading towards the door.
“Just hang on a bit,” said Pollard “I need to check for messages before we go! Can you just switch that lamp on so I can see properly?”
Vickers leaned across and toggled the switch and was immediately thrown across the room by the electric shock. He landed in a heap at Pollard’s feet, stone dead.
You really think memories don’t matter then, he thought. He picked up the glass full of whisky, threw it in the fire, and went out as the room burned!
Brilliant! Serves him right for whatever dastardly plot he was up to with his memory stick and his single malt…
Pingback: Derelict – Becoming Unstuck
This week’s photo prompt inspired me to write this: detoutetderien2015.wordpress.com/2016/06/03/derelict/