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THIS PROMPT IS CLOSED.
Hello everyone and thank you for joining us for our newest weekly prompt! This week, we will be featuring a picture prompt. Remember, it is entirely up to you on how to interpret the prompt, which means that you can interpret it as literally or as figuratively as you would like. Just let your imagination fly!
PICTURE PROMPT:
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WINNERS:
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I watched her as she sat on the concrete, letting the sun radiate on her skin; warming herself up from the morning air. She looked across the sea in front of her, letting the waves dance in the reflection of her eyes. Taking a deep breath in, the sea breeze smell slowly wrapped around her, only to let go with her exhale. Titling her head up, she gazed at the predominantly baby blue sky, watching the fleeting clouds lazily go by. Stretching her hand to the sky, she analyzed how her tan skin popped out from the blue skyline background. Dropping her hand, she picked up the pencil in her lap, and began scribbling in the black leather bound notebook.
I made my way to her, taking in the last scenes of her before she noticed my presence.
"Hi" I said, as I took a spot next to her on the warm concrete.
"Hi" she responded, giving a smile that shone like the sun.
"What are you writing?" Noticing the words written in her journal.
"A love story of two people, but I'm not quite sure where they will kiss." She answered, her brows furrowing together in thought.
I leaned in slightly, " I heard this place is a good kissing spot".
She looked at me, letting a smile escape from her lips.
He looked exactly as she remembered: strong and capable, as he dragged the small, rusty boat to the deck, his wild, dark hair swaying with the shallow breeze. It wasn't cold: it was never cold here, but it was always windy. There was something familiar about the way he pulled harshly at the strings on the boat as he secured it to the pole, even though really, they no longer knew each other. They hadn't known each other in over ten years.
She'd heard that he'd taken over his father's company, taking eager tourists on boat rides on the water, and he hated it as much as he'd imagined he would, all those years ago. But when his father died, not long after she left, he hadn't really had a choice. "I don't have you, so what was the point," he'd cried to her on the phone, the last time they spoke. She'd hated herself then, for making him feel that way, and she hated herself now for thinking she could waltz back into his life without encountering any hostility.
For a few fleeting seconds she contemplated just walking away and forgetting all about him and this place. This little part of the world that for one glorious summer had been there's. The faded stone wall where they'd shared their first and last kiss, and the sad looking trees where he'd stood as he'd watched her walking away. But she couldn't bring herself to; she'd been so lonely for so long, and since learning of his divorce last year, she'd been wondering what if... What if what happened when she was a clueless seventeen-year-old girl wasn't the end?
The sun was strong as I sat in a little cafe sipping a cappuccino. I was alone traveling the continent. The little Italian Riviera village was breathtaking. The aroma was a mingling of the sea, fresh bread and coffee.
A man sat next to me drinking an Espresso. He was quite striking and alluringly all male. He smiled at me and my pulse quickened.
To my surprise he said, "Vieni que."
I replied, "No hablo."
I took Spanish in high school.
He laughed and repeated, "Vieni que." Then he motioned me to follow. He pointed to a sign written in English. Before I could read it entirely. He captured my mouth with his. It was passionate and exciting. He was a stranger, but I sighed and participated in the toe curling kiss. Suddenly there was no language barrier. He tasted of coffee and smelled of an after shave that made me feel heady.
When he pulled away he asked, "Tu come ti chiami?"
Not knowing what he was saying, I shook my head.
He pointed to himself and said, "Paolo." Then he pointed to me. Before I could respond his lips were on mine again
Paolo and his Italian kisses would be a highlight of my holiday. I would never taste coffee again without remembering...
