For the visually impaired: Theimage shows a calm seascape in half-light, with a pathway of stone leading through the waters towards the horizon. **Para los discapacitados visuales: la imagen muestra un paisaje marino tranquilo en penumbra, con un camino de piedra que atraviesa las aguas hacia el horizonte.**
This challenge is that of Ms Sue Vincent. It’s a second of a favorite I enjoy.
Growing up, Leylianna couldn’t swim; neither of her parents took the time to teach her. Now that she’s grown, she decided to explore the water. She was determined to teach herself; however, an eight foot pool in her backyard simply wouldn’t do.
When she taught herself to swim, she was going to be one with water. She was going to be in it’s natural location. She was going to wade in, ankle deep, introducing herself to the water. She was going to enjoy the summer sun kissing her skin, as she ran her thin weightless fingers through the cool surroundings.
She wanted to cup the water and splash her face, allowing her pores to open up. She wanted to stroll over to the causeway, and rest on the warm wet land. She wanted to sit in the moment, eager to explore with all her senses. She wanted to listen to the splashing of the waves, always in the gentlest fashion. She wanted to watch seagulls, swooping down and snatching their next meal.
Growing up, the life of a city girl bored her no such opportunities. Though her parents ment well, she left New York and moved to Coco Beach. She longed for that in her soul; and, here, she’s planted roots.
Every Thursday, Beckie, from Beckie’s Mental Mess, blogs about the dangerously increasing issue of mental health. She includes a few questions and an image, encouraging participants to write of that which sparks inspiration. You can check out last week’s submittions by clicking the link above.
I am usually drawn to the images in the prompt. This week follows suite.
The darkness fell upon her,
Just as the sunset faded to night.
She feared these hours, most.
The voices would soon, resonate,
The secrets of her past, horrors of
Her life, and lies about her character.
Quiet Whispers, subtle and familiar,
The haunting familiarity of endless hours.
Her mistakes visited, stared her in the face.
Anxiety attacked every inch of her weakening confidence.
Insecurities surfaced, breaking her down.
The night brought her storms,
Caging her into solitude, fearful of judgement.
She struggled with facing society, functioning normally,
And do so while sensing judgement from every passerby.
These are AMAZINGLY DELICIOUS!!!!! Since discovering the shop Peace, Love, and Little Donuts, my girls and I have made several memorial trips. Every single donut is freshly baked when they open. The decorating is done, at the time of a customer’s request, right in front of them.