I entered without knocking and found my mother dancing with Uncle Charles. Multi-colored lights pulsed from a strobe as The Dead were spinning on the turntable. In the air, the scent of patchouli. They were drinking tequila, and wearing nothing but love beads.
As her life force left her body, it plunged into a tunnel of excruciating brilliance. Terrifying turbulence sucked it toward shadows and wildfires, thrusting it around and through tight passages until it finally reached the terminus. It pulled herself together and she began to hear voices greeting her arrival home.
Surfer Knewt knew wave vortexes, totally recalls the tubal tidal ligations that beckoned; illuminated neon-argon arced energy braced beams. Enticed, the surfboard sliced-diced into space cut between thunder claps; spasms last go round-up. Luckily, a gnarly umbilical cord rose to surface. He takes a deep breath. Scared.
Kathleen, I save all of our previous prompts on the page titled “Fifties by the Fire” on my Substack. Here’s a link to the prompts if you want to check them out or bookmark it for later!
I've always wondered how often palm readers lie or stretch the truth. I have never gone to one for that reason!! Great story, Justin. I like how you mention the smell of carnival foods. You can picture the boy leaving the colors and lights and scents behind to venture into a semi dark tent or enclosure of some kind to find out what the future holds for him.
Dripping sweat, the vivid nightmare had me as the protagonist in a psychedelic horror fiction movie. Earlier that evening when I processed the results of my ICM photo shoot, the realistic light show eye of a monster unsettled me. I must remember never to work into the small hours again.
I will join with a probe into the dark tunnel tomorrow. Today went walkabot looking at Calif native plants . Give me a night to think of a story to tell.
Everybody’s a Critic
“‘Vitruvian Light Show’,” sniffed Edgar, reading the placard beneath the colorful gyroscopic work. “Yes, I thought it brought to mind Leonardo.”
Kent tried to join in. Waded into the deep end. “I love Leonardo. I’ll go to my grave insisting there was room for him AND Rose on that door!”
Haha! I can see Edgar’s face, and he is not overly impressed with Kent’s response. That’s too funny. But hey…Kent isn’t wrong. 🤣
WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN, CANNOT BE UNSEEN, fiction
I entered without knocking and found my mother dancing with Uncle Charles. Multi-colored lights pulsed from a strobe as The Dead were spinning on the turntable. In the air, the scent of patchouli. They were drinking tequila, and wearing nothing but love beads.
Joining them seemed out of the question.
What a perfect title for your story, Sharron. I love how it clues in the reader before diving in. Eek! There is no unseeing that image, ha!
lol. My eyes!
Oh my...
A little magic for the Geriatric Hippies who may be reading Along the Hudson.
Wormhole
As her life force left her body, it plunged into a tunnel of excruciating brilliance. Terrifying turbulence sucked it toward shadows and wildfires, thrusting it around and through tight passages until it finally reached the terminus. It pulled herself together and she began to hear voices greeting her arrival home.
This is stunning, Sue. What a way to describe the afterlife and the next step in her life’s journey. I loved every word!
Thank you, Justin. The Afterlife has been a huge inspiration to me these days. The possibilities are endless ... so to speak.
I had the same thought here, Sue, but just could not pull it off as quickly as you. Lovely, my friend.
Still, I'd like to read whatever you wrote about this. Let's compare views of the Beyond. Now there's a prompt for the writing group.
Ooh, I like that prompt idea! Let me see if John has any photographs that will pair nicely with “the beyond”.
Hah! Maybe....
Vitruvius Not Met- Fiction
“I want to use the time machine to go back to Rome.”
The instant the words left his mouth, he found himself in a multi-colored vortex hurtling through a time tube of sorts.
When he came to, he realized quickly he was on a battlefield.
“I've got to get home!”
Ahh, I love this, Kim! Time travel stories are so open-ended and such fun to read and write. Great stuff! Thanks for sharing.
Thank YOU, Justin for the prompt and the hosting this weekly writing “group”.
Geronimo!
The Blank Space
If all her memories were technicolor lines,
etched upon an old vinyl record that played the story of her life,
in colors muted or vibrant like the sights, smells, and sounds each memory evoked,
then there would always be that one spot where the record refused to play—
—couldn’t play.
What a brilliant little tale (and analogy), Cassandra. And so very relatable! Thanks so much for sharing!
Thanks for the prompt and the opportunity to share!
Oh yes, exactly, Cassandra! That one maddening little hiccup...
Eyes of Knewt(fiction)
Surfer Knewt knew wave vortexes, totally recalls the tubal tidal ligations that beckoned; illuminated neon-argon arced energy braced beams. Enticed, the surfboard sliced-diced into space cut between thunder claps; spasms last go round-up. Luckily, a gnarly umbilical cord rose to surface. He takes a deep breath. Scared.
What a fun and clever take on the prompt, Richard! So well written.
Thanks Justin. Just born. Surfing safari. Waves include swimming down the coast boogie board. Pelicans catch. Just happened.
Disco nights
Back in the day, they say things were brighter and better.
Dancing late into the night. Bodies mingling, flying.
Disco balls, reflecting colors on faces lost.
Psychedelic music blasting
young eardrums.
Not a care in the world,
Just looking for the next high.
Until later in life
You’re reading lips.
What an atmospheric piece, Kathleen! I love it. And the progression by the end is beautifully rendered. Thank you for sharing with us!
Thank you, Justin. I wanted to have a little fun with it.
Love it
Thanks, Scott. I have to look for more of these prompts because I really do enjoy them. The pictures really help.
Kathleen, I save all of our previous prompts on the page titled “Fifties by the Fire” on my Substack. Here’s a link to the prompts if you want to check them out or bookmark it for later!
https://alongthehudson.substack.com/t/fifties-by-the-fire
Thanks, Justin, I will check that out.
They are quick and fun for sure
Yes, they are
Towards Destiny (Fiction)
Josh swished his wand around.
“The light show is brilliant,” intoned the salesman happily. “A true Vitruvian Triad. Not many people can do that with such fine definition.”
Josh smiled as he said, ”I’ll take it. Not many can do this either.” He walked through the maelstrom towards his destiny.
Thanks so much for sharing, Bill! I really enjoyed this. It’s intriguing and feels like the beginning of an epic journey for Josh. Fun stuff!
I've always wondered how often palm readers lie or stretch the truth. I have never gone to one for that reason!! Great story, Justin. I like how you mention the smell of carnival foods. You can picture the boy leaving the colors and lights and scents behind to venture into a semi dark tent or enclosure of some kind to find out what the future holds for him.
Right? And which ones have a true gift vs which ones are conning the masses. I’m happy you liked this one, Andrea. By the way, I emailed you back! 😊
Thank you! I read it earlier. It sounds as though you're having a wonderful summer!! I'll get back to you soon.
Love the foreboding
How scary to know your own future.
All I know is that I’m happy I didn’t pursue palm reading/fortune telling as a career. 🤣 Thank you for reading, Mark!
Intentional Camera Movement
Dripping sweat, the vivid nightmare had me as the protagonist in a psychedelic horror fiction movie. Earlier that evening when I processed the results of my ICM photo shoot, the realistic light show eye of a monster unsettled me. I must remember never to work into the small hours again.
Ooh, this is excellent, James. Thank you for sharing!
I will join with a probe into the dark tunnel tomorrow. Today went walkabot looking at Calif native plants . Give me a night to think of a story to tell.
It sounds like time well spent, Richard. These fires burn indefinitely, so there’s never any rush! 😄
Oooh, Justin! I am stung by the fortune teller exhaling her lies, erasing her evil.... It is better the boy doesn't know.
It’s probably better he doesn’t know, right? Thanks so much for reading, my friend!