Tag Archives: #writephoto

Chess #writephoto

Photo by KL Caley

Oswald stood at the window, stroking his strawberry blond beard as Eathwing gave the field report.  A casual observer might think he wasn’t paying attention, but Eathwing knew that the king’s mind was taking it all in and planning the next move.  Although known as a hot tempered man, Eathwing knew that this king was perhaps the greatest strategist of his generation.  That was how he, starting as a thane of a small town, now had one of the largest kingdoms on the isles. 

When the report was finished, Oswald swung around, eyes flashing under the flaming red eybrows.

“Gather the knights and let them know we ride at dawn with me at their head.  We will join the siege of Domnall’s sea fortress.  I feel it is about to fall and if I ride there, it will surely topple.  That is the last defence on the sea route, so if it falls, Domnall the White will not be able to withstand our advance.  We will have him yet!”

“A squad of Domnall’s best foot soldiers stand between us and our men on the siege.”

“Those pawns?  My knights will wipe them out!  We will taste victory!”

Eathwing nodded.  “As you wish, sire.”


After talking to general of the king’s knights, Eathwing went down to the deepest dungeon, the one others called “The Wizards Coop”.  Making sure nobody saw, we went into a secret side room.  A giant chessboard was set up, a game in progress.

Eathwing waved his hand.  The red king and one of the red knights lined up against a white castle and three white pawns.

He scanned the board.  Yes, if they took out the pawns and the castle they’d have the white king in check, but could they force a checkmate?

It all depended on how Domnall moved his own men.

Oswald the Red may be on the right track, but this game of chess was not over quite yet.


This was written for the writephoto challenge that is hosted by KL Caley. The photo at the top was given by KL, as well as the key word, “Chess”. Hope you enjoyed :)

Ceiling #writephoto

Photo by KL Caley

The last of the adults were long in bed when Timmy snuck out to explore the castle. 

When he had heard “castle”, he thought cold stone walls with perhaps a tapestry or two.  What he found was closer to a late Renaissance palace with fancy plaster foliage and trompe l’oeil painting. 

His favorite was the fake dome full of figures in the great room.

That was his destination on his little midnight exploration.

“Are they all asleep yet?”

“Yeah, we should be good.”

To Timmy’s surprise the voices were coming from the ceiling of the great room!

“Arg, that is awful.  I can finally stand up and stretch.  I’m so tight.”

“You’re tight?  You’ve been sitting on your fat behind all day!  I have to keep this idiotic pose with only a bit of wind-blown cloth covering my privates.  Ugh, I need to sit!”

“And I need to wrap something around me!  All of those gross men staring at my stone-cold breasts.  Terrible.”

“Ha! Your breasts?  No, they’ve been staring at my bare bum, that’s what they’ve been looking at.  And this idiotic club is getting heavy.  Who in their right minds thought someone would be swinging such a thing when they are so exposed?”

“Enough, everyone.  I think I’m the most ill-used, listening to your complaints every night.  Gar!  Hey, Champ, Hero, chase those birds away so we can eat in peace.  There’s a couple of good pups.”

Timmy snuck into the room and looked up.  The figures were all moving about, now fully clothed.

He involuntarily gasped.

One of the dogs in the ceiling started barking at him.

The king, no longer nude but wearing a heavy purple robe, pointed down.

“You there!  Yes, you!! What are you doing?  Come here for your judgement!”

Timmy stood and ran for the door.  Just as he was about to go through, he had an odd sensation of flying through the air.


“Have you seen Timmy?”

“No. But have you seen this ceiling painting?”

“Painting?  Your son didn’t come down for breakfast and when I went up to check I see he didn’t sleep in his bed all night and all you can talk about is some stupid painting I’ve seen a thousand times before?!”

“I’m sorry, I’ll ask the servants to keep an eye out and…”

“I already did that!  Why don’t you go look for him?”

“I will, in a moment.  But as to that painting that I’ve seen a thousand times before, I never noticed the boy in it.  Funny, he looks just like Timmy.  Come and look…”


This was written for the writephoto challenge. The writephoto challenge was started by Sue Vincent on March 3, 2016. Yep, seven years ago to the day. We all miss Sue very much, but the challenge lives on through the prompts KL Caley has been posting the last two years (give or take). This week KL posted the photo at the top with the key word “Ceiling”. In her challenge post she paid tribute to Sue.

Cannon #writephoto

Photo by KL Caley

The last coach has long departed.  No voice of tourist nor even of costumed interpreter can be heard.  Peace has descended and we can emerge to our natural places.

I stand by the cannon, spirit soaring as I look out at the Wallace and remember days gone by.  Ah, being by the great man’s side…  I relive that day in my mind over and over. Yes, I was wounded and taken to the castle to die, but it was the height of glory! We would drive the English out!

Manning the cannon as he had in 1746 is Thomas, making sure that Bonnie Prince Charles can never take the walls and security in the strategic castle. An unlucky hit made it so he didn’t witness the Jacobite retreat with living eyes. To him, preserving the union of kingdoms was worth it.

Our aims in life may have been opposite, but together in death we get along alright.

We watch over the cannon and talk of times old, new and in the future.

But the night fades and day arrives too soon.

The staff arrive, including the costumed interpreters.  Too soon the first coach ascends from the small town.  Once more the sacred castle is filled with the voices and the tourists.

Thomas and I fade with the night.  We’ll meet each other again at his cannon as we have for almost three hundred years, a place where I have stood guard for 700 years.


OK, I could not think of a good story, but I had to write something, having recently stood where KL had taken that photo. Anyway, it has been ages since I joined in the writephoto challenge. This is now hosted by KL Caley. She provided the photo at the top and the word “Cannon”. Oh, here is the place from a different side.

Turning around from the wall where KL was (she might not have been that spot, but… you get the point):

Fog #writephoto

Image by KL Caley

Bran sat down at the river’s edge.  He picked up a small stone and tossed it in, without paying attention to where it went or the splash it made.

Why did Drest always treat him so rotten?  It wasn’t fair.

As Bran sat, staring at nothing on the outside, every slight the older boy had ever given him, real or imagined, came up. 

A deep heat rose from the iciness.  He’d show him!  Why, the next time they met, he’d take care of that bully.

Bran didn’t notice his teeth gritting nor his breathing becoming heavier and ragged.  He didn’t realize that his fists were clenched nor that his face was red.

Images of what he’d do with Drest flashed through his mind.  They began to swallow all other thought.  With the violent, angry thoughts, came darkness.  All light was blocked by the mental fog.

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The Bucket #writephoto

Photo by KL Caley

I’m not the type to relax on the beach, and I would never think of sleeping.  I might sit for a minute and people watch.  I might even read for a few.  But relax?  No, relaxing is walking or swimming, or exploring or, well, just about anything in the world other than just sitting.  Sitting on a hot beach was my personal idea of Hell on Earth.  The idea of sleeping on a beach was repugnant.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up.

Of course it took me a moment to establish were I was, and then another moment to recall sitting down to dry after a quick swim.  How had I fallen asleep?

I have no idea why it took me so long to realize that the beach was completely empty.  

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Door #writephoto

Door – Image by KL Caley

Another day, another dozen old buildings.  A lot of them were called “castles”, some “towers” and then there were the ancient manor houses, though anything newer than 15th century was right out.  This struck me as strange since most of the restoration jobs made these places about as authentic as Disneyland.

OK, I’ll admit, my sense of romance had worn a little thin after the first dozen.  As I entered, my first thought went to lack of indoor plumbing and how cold and damp they must have been.  Brrr. 

And let’s face it, it wasn’t just the castles.  I had lost the romance over pretty much everything in life. 

Life.  It had become a bore and a challenge.

No.  Romance was something for children.

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Den #writephoto

Image by KL Caley

What did they always say?  One of us hairless apes needs just water, food, clean air, shelter and clothing to survive?  Something like that?  And what do we do when all of those things become contaminated?

I think they also used to say “man does not live on bread alone”, but, you know, that’s pretty much all that is needed to survive.

Along with water, shelter, etc., etc.

But I am getting a little ahead of myself here.

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The World as a Kite #writephoto

Photo by KL Caley

People watch us as if we are full of whimsy, a temple to childhood and carefree days.  Maybe, but after losing the first baseball game of the season and being charged a nickel to be ridiculed for my loss, I am now stuck here, wrapped by string around this evil kite-eating-tree!  Ah, Peanuts, I wish I was old enough to use proper swear words!


This was written for the writephoto challenge that is run by KL Caley. She provided the photo at the top of the page and the key word, kites.

OK, I will write more, maybe much more about the story than the story length itself!! Of course a lot of the words came from the photo – The building looks like a temple and, to me, looks like what is called a “whimsy”. It appears to be early spring and there are kites in the air, though the people are surrounded by bare trees. And, as most of you know, the comic strip Peanuts follows Charlie Brown as he loses baseball game after baseball game, is harassed by many in his town, including Lucy, who charges 5 cents (a nickle) to “psychoanalyze” poor Charlie, which usually means she just has another way to make fun of him and charge him money at the same time. And then, to relax, he goes out and flies his kite, that almost always gets caught in the kite-eating-tree, as, on too many occasions, is Charlie. And some people think childhood is all fun and games! No, it is a dark dangerous business!

The Fairy #writephoto

Fairy – Image by KL Caley

“Mommy, look, a fairy door!”

“Yes, Timmy, someone was very clever putting that so high up and yet so highly visible from the path.  Now let’s go.”

“Not someone, a fairy…”

“Sure, Timmy, a fairy…”

Twinkles left her hiding spot after the humans were out of sight.  She inspected the door.

Sure enough, someone had put a spell on it so the humans could see. 

Not knowing what else she could do, she went over to visit Glower, the sour fairy, to ask his advice.  Much to her shock, his door was visible as well!

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Island #writephoto

Island – Image by KL Caley

“Avast, Matey!”

“Come on, Tom…”

“Captain Tom!”

“…Captain Tom, your honor, sir, I know Matt has been getting pretty fat lately and must out-mass an elephant by now, but isn’t calling him “vast” a little mean spirited?  I mean, just asking…”

“Shut up Kyle.  OK, let’s launch the ship…”

“The SS Sinker.”

“…The Dread Pirate Ship Black Skull!”

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