Your Story: The View

It’s that time again. It’s your turn to write the story for one of my photos.  This is the fifth installment of the Your Story series.  (Your Story, Your Story: Blue, Your Story: Country ,Your Story: Blue Bank )

This is an opportunity to write a story, a poem, your feelings or even just one word about the photo posted below.  So put your mind in creative mode and give it your best shot.  Remember, anything goes.  You can even write in your native language.  I’ll be happy to Google translate it for you.

I am surprised each time at just how talented and gifted you are.  Some of you have even created characters and continued the story with each new installment.  It is refreshing to see just how you interpret my snaps.  Thank you in advance for your time.

To get a better view, click on the photo.  To see more of my work, please visit my galleries.

98 responses to “Your Story: The View

  1. We’re just two lost souls sitting on park benches, day after day… Looking over the same old ground… What have we to hound? The same old gray…. Wish you were away…

    [inspired words from Wish you were Here: Pink Floyd. The moment I saw the pic, the song started playing in my head with altered words. I swear I’m not making this up.]

  2. The spy from the Kentucky Fried Institute was on the phone to his boss. He wasn’t sure if the man on the other bench was his secret contact He was afraid….His boss told him not to chicken out….

    • I was wondering where you were getting KFC and then I saw his shirt. I thought that perhaps it was because they were looking across the river into the state of Kentucky 😉

  3. They are together, and yet all alone. Each contemplating a different perspective of the same view. Deciding on what to do next in the world that spreads out before their feet.

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  5. The day in the park wasn’t going well. The phone was constantly ringing. “What could be that important?” I wondered. But, my larger question was, “why is the town deserted?”

  6. Two different benches
    Two different lives
    Two different husbands
    With two different wives
    One says, “I’m not phoning and apologizing first!”
    One says, “Sorry, honey. I love you!”
    Two different outcomes
    Two different nights
    One returns home for dinner
    One returns home to fight!
    Blessings ~ Wendy

  7. The greenlightlady should make up with her husband or good friend! She did certainly capture a plausible perspective.
    My title would be something like: “Thoughts By the Beauty Yonder Be”

  8. These two brothers haven’t spoken in two years. It all start at a Fourth of July celebration where the one on the right had a little too much to drink and got in a political argument with the brother on the left. Words led to more words, which led to shouting, which led to a punch, which led to the brother on the right being told to go out and ‘walk it off’. He did, and ended up here, looking at the view,but not looking at the view. He was mostly thinking how upset he was that here he was risking his neck in the military for our country, fighting in a war overseas, which his stupid brother in college wouldn’t even acknowledge that maybe he knew something about. It was all so galling. He was doing the heavy lifting, but the country’s conversation was going on without him.

    The other brother, was so upset by the argument that he too decided he needed to go for a walk. They both ended up here, staring out at the view. Each brother felt that perhaps they had been hot-headed and precipitous – though not actually wrong, and so felt that some kind of apology was in order, either from them or the other, but since none started, they just sat there until it got dark and went home.

    Now, every 4th, each of them leaves the family gathering to go sit on this bench waiting for the other to speak.

  9. Braced for Trinidad’s explosive departure, Hugo took his son’s continued presence alone as a good sign.
    For an hour or so, they sat in silence, separated by a tree.
    Finally, Trinidad heaved a great sigh, pulled his cell phone from his sock and began trying to track down the polo team. Hugo knew that his son had reached the Highly Smith-Cortez mansion by the way Trinidad snapped at Highly’s butler, Guy.
    “Then how do you explain the butter churn?” Trin demanded bitterly.
    The butter churn argument was an old one, and Hugo looked away.
    It was his turn to sigh, all right. Briefly, he estimated his chances of persuading Trinidad to inform the Marquis that the polo team had defected.
    Fortunately. the butter churm was safely back in Argentina.

  10. My mind is blank to write something up, but I can’t stop thinking of Jack Johnson’s song “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing”…

    Now I was sitting waiting wishing
    That you believed in superstitions
    Then maybe you’d see the signs
    But Lord knows that this world is cruel
    And I ain’t the Lord, no I’m just a fool
    Learning loving somebody don’t make them love you

    Must I always be waiting waiting on you?
    Must I always be playing playing your fool?

    …..

  11. After saying goodbye to the others and leaving the house in the country, after doing what they had to do there, the two of them remained at odds. The walked along the esplanade for some time exchanging very few words, the younger one did not know why they had not stopped at the two blue buildings, his older companion knew but would not tell. They sat apart without a word; the view was bleak, their mood dejected. What was missing they did not yet now.

  12. We’re solitary satellites
    orbiting in parallel universes
    travelling at heartache speed
    relative to fantastic
    stellar constellations
    speculating our way silently
    through loud supernovas
    and meteoric divas
    dodging space junk
    and dead matter
    distracted by black holes
    willing spectacular collusions
    for our amusement
    annihilating gravity
    our frequencies attuned
    to unknown distant planets
    our love light years ahead
    ancient as the big bang
    or whatever cosmic freak event
    that set all this in motion.

  13. As the two men looked out …One saw hope, the other despair. One saw possibilities of what could be the other man saw challenges of unsolvable problems. One saw the beginning of his day, the other the end.

  14. Brazilian feeling for English speakers

    Have you ever heard about Saudade
    For sure you have felt this feeling
    Saudade is more than missing someone
    It is not a bad thing but it is not a good one

    Makes you happy to feel, sad to remember
    Brings good moments and the bad too
    But always it makes you smile

    Saudade,
    Someone from far away or even close by
    A moment that just passed or a life you left behind
    Saudade, of you, of me, of us, of them

  15. Do I speak to him or no? Will he speak to me or not? Do I disturb his his thoughts? Perhaps not, I’ll just sit and enjoy the peace. Maybe I’ll talk to him tomorrow if he comes again, then again maybe I wont……

  16. It feels nice to just relax once in a while. To sit back and enjoy the view. This particular day has been tiring, from chasing a newbie con man, catching a serial killer, and not to mention all the paper work (that is still not finished). I guess the word ‘tiring’ is a total underestimation… But I’m on a break now. After all you can’t work on an empty stomach. I’m sitting on a bench (something I find myself doing a lot lately) under a tree, enjoying the scenery and my food.
    “Long day?” A voice from my left surprised me. A young man, probably in his late 20’s, tall, with brown hair and hazel eyes. I just raise my eyebrows as a silent question (and a habit I do when confused). “Oh! Sorry, you just look like shit.” He said nonchalantly. “Excuse me?!” How dare this rude brat talk like that! Does he say that to every stranger -or worse everyone- he sees? “I said you look like shit” He said AGAIN, as if he didn’t say anything wrong. “Do I need to speak louder.” It wasn’t exactly a question. This kid is really getting on my nerves, I should leave before I do something stupid (or maybe I’d be doing the world a favour). Suddenly I have a hand and an annoying brat in front of me. I look at him incredulously. No way am I going to shake hands with him! “The name’s Allan Page. It’s a pleasure for you to meet me.” He said in THAT tone and amazingly un-awkwardly place his hand to his side. Okay, that’s enough! I stand up and glare at him. “What, not going to introduce yourself?” I cluck my tongue loudly (because I want to) and begrudgingly answer “Tyler Kellerman. And no, it’s not.” I don’t wait for anything else to come out of his mouth and turn away to go someplace else, absolutely not missing his oh-so-arrogant smirk.
    I can never get a break and just have a nice time, can I.

    – So, wow, did Allan grate your nerves? He’d like that, absolutely. Anyhow, I felt like it was a perfect time to introduce you to Allan Page (which is actually a main character to a story that I am currently having a kind of writer’s block). He is a VERY annoying, arrogant, all high and mighty guy. And he does it on purpose just to get under people’s skin. But he’s a good guy, I just made him so he wouldn’t be liked (at least at first), seriously. Oh, and he’s rude. And rich, but that’s another story. 😉
    Sorry for the rather rude language and typo/grammar error. I tried to make at least Tyler not to swear, etc, but it doesn’t feel right if Allan doesn’t. Thanks 🙂 (love the pic by the way ;D)

  17. I wonder when trees became decorations?
    Placed in cement the seed is sown.
    Local councils plant a growing declaration.
    To make you forget green has been overthrown.

    Share a bench with a stranger? I’d surely need a designation.
    For without an exterior motive I’d rather sit on my own.
    I yearn for chance encounters, these thoughts of desperation.
    It causes to much dissonance, these thoughts I leave alone.
    I’m much better on my own.

  18. “Yep. He’s sitting on the same spot, looking at the view.
    I think he knows that we’re going to have a surprise birthday party for him.
    But, he’s just pretending that he doesn’t know.
    Have you finished it yet? Already? OK, I’m driving him home. See you” ….
    “Dad let’s go home”

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