Grandmother’s chest – #writephoto


See Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt for instructions

The dust of hopes and longings lie tightly sealed within its vault. Were they realized? Or did they dissolve, warping the edges before escaping to colour those who followed – and who placed their own dreams, gently folded, into Grandmother’s chest.




This is part of Sonya’s 3 Line Tales weekly prompt! Photo by Erol Ahmed.

She paused at the wooden box overflowing with lemons. Their scent always reminded her of home. But then again – it was never quite right; there was something missing, every time. Maybe the ocean sounds, maybe the distinct belligerence of the Costa Brava gulls. Something that kept the memories just beyond her reach. Hmm…she toyed with the fruit, picking one up and then another, gently pressing the flesh between her fingers. With a sigh, she motioned to the stall proprietor. He raised his head from his magazine and began to place lemons into a paper bag.

“Just a few,” she nodded. “For lemonade.”



The Visitor – #writephoto


Echoes seeped through the cold stone: rising; folding like ribbons into the day. Innocent laughter; slender fingers brushing against sealed doors. And the crushing blows that followed. He slipped away from the ruins, sifting back into the trees. He had no further business in the tower.

© Nadia Brown

My micro offering to Sue Vincent’s ( Daily Echo) Thursday photo prompt. Why not join in?

Photo by Daily Echo.

3 Line Tales -The Bridge

photo-1459421458614-23811a6d188bEvery year, he marvelled at the magnificence that bloomed around the bridge in that very spot. Despite the devastation they had witnessed, despite the acid anger that had railed upon them a decade ago, the bushes flowered as faithfully as he held his yearly vigil. Perhaps they sensed his presence.

© Nadia Brown, 2016

This is part of Sonya’s 3 Lines Tales – 100 words or less inspired by a weekly photo prompt!