The tunnel – #writephoto

Sue’s prompt today for #WritePhoto

Man caught in the light at the end of the tunnel

“Hello?… Hello!..”

Becca rubbed her eyes and allowed her sight to adjust to the pinpoint of light that was streaming down on her.
It wasn’t quite clear, but she thought she could see someone standing there, at the end of the tunnel.
Summoning up all her energy, she tried to shout out.

“Hello! Help me!”

It wasn’t more than a whisper leaving her mouth.
Four days, she had been stuck in this cave. Four nights of pure darkness and four days of muted light she had endured with no food or water, and an excruciating pain in her leg, hip and shoulder.
She had gone for a walk to clear her head.

The arguments were starting to really wear thin now. Jack was getting increasingly paranoid and it took something as simple as her working late for him to start questioning everything from where she was, to why she was wearing certain clothes… even though he knew exactly where she had been.
She knew she wasn’t in the wrong, but how long could she fend off accusations and snide remarks? If he loved her, he wouldn’t do this…
Caught up in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed the mouth of the cave, and didn’t see the unearthed root sticking up at the entrance.
Before she knew it, she was tumbling down a shallow tunnel, before coming to a wall. She had landed awkwardly and hurt her leg.

After calling out until she felt hoarse,  and trying to gently ease her way back up before realising that her shoulder hurt too much and that her leg couldn’t hold her weight, she had all but given up…

The days and nights were starting to blend into one another.

Surely Jack would have alerted the authorities. Someone must be trying to find her…

Her eyes were starting to close again when she heard something again.

A rustle, and what sounded like movement close by.

She felt herself being moved gently and reassuring voices calmed her.

As long as Jack believed where she had been, she had no wish other than that…

#writephoto

Twilight – #writephoto

Sue’s #WritePhoto prompt this week.

Twilight.
It was that time again.
The mists rolled over the hills.
The sun had lowered below the horizon, darkness had yet to envelop the world.
That time… when humans feared the hills.
That time… when loved ones went missing.
That time… when the creatures felt safe to roam.
That time… when they feasted.
Before their eyes failed them in the inky black of the night, the creatures scoured the hills for any living thing, be it a four-legged mammal, or two.
They didn’t discern between either.
The sound of a heartbeat alerted them to their next meal.
They sensed the blood pulsing through veins, calling out to be drained.
Sated, they crawled back to their hiding places, to recharge… ready for the next Twilight…

#writephoto

Wings #writephoto

Sue’s #WritePhoto prompt this week.

Birds fly overhead
Unrest is shown in the air
Echoing my life

Ritu 2017

Sorry if you were hoping for a sequel to the last prompt entry… I’m afraid I wasn’t feeling it, as a follow-up! Maybe next week!

#writephoto

Thursday photo prompt: Derelict #writephoto

Sue’s #WritePhoto prompt this week.

“Full of potential, so it says. Rustic.  Close to nature.  Compact.  Minimalistic in a traditional way. That’s what the message says.”
John read back the details that the estate agent had sent him. Then looked up at the property.
Now he knew why the guy hadn’t sent a photo. He should have waited a few more days, but Lucy was obsessed with them getting this ‘country weekend home’ sooner rather than later and she was convinced that any properties worth having were snapped up straight away
“Potentially full of damp. Rusty. Nature’s taken over. Shoebox. No plumbing or amenities. That’s what it should have read! Seriously Lucy, let’s just get back in the car and head back. It’s not even wor-“ He stopped.
Oh dear God, he knew that look. Lucy was staring at the ramshackle cottage with a look of pure love.
“Oh Johnny, it’s perfect! Think of what we could do to this place!” She turned to give him the puppy dog eyes… and he had never been able to resist that look…
He felt his wallet lighten with every step towards the building…

#writephoto

Inside-out #writephoto

Sue’s #writephoto prompt this week. We’ve been spoiled with two photos today!

 

Ginny looked at the window sill.
Drat! Another leak!
It was strange.
There hadn’t been any rain the last few days, in fact it had been surprisingly pleasant for a February.
She went off to go and tend to the guests they had staying at the Manor House this week.
A rather rowdy, but well off group of gentlemen, footballers, she thought they said they were. Well, you would have to be well off to rent out a Manor House like this for a whole week!
It was a ‘stag do’ they said, celebrating the last few nights of bachelorhood of one of their number.
Youngsters nowadays, Ginny thought. Back in her day, the men popped to the local for a quick pint to ward off the nerves of the Groom-to-be. Now they celebrated with days of drinking and eating and rather raucous music and behaviour!
They had taken to congregating in the large attics that had been converted. Apparently the acoustics were much better there, for their loud music.
Really, had this been twenty years ago, Sir Rotherham would never have allowed this type of jaunt on his property, but since his death, young Master Rotherham (she still couldn’t call him Sir… ) had taken to finding any way to make money from their estate. No scruples, that young man.
In fact, while this bunch of famous louts were wrecking the place she had looked after for the last fifty years, Master Rotherham was firmly ensconced within their group, enjoying being surrounded by all this ‘money’. He kept talking about selfies with various names she had never heard of, and being ‘liked’ on Insta-chat, or Snap-gram, whatever it was called!
Talking of Master Rotherham, she could hear his voice. He sounded rather high of spirits… probably due to the amount of spirits he had consumed. Never was good with alcohol, that boy…
Ginny went to look out of the window, where she felt the voice was coming from.
Gasping, she took a step back!
Well, that was a part of Master Rotherham’s anatomy that she hadn’t seen since he was a whippersnapper! And now she knew what that ‘leak’ was all about.
Really! Sir Rotherham would be rolling in his grave if he could see this!

I hope you enjoyed my silly tale!

#writephoto

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