I like to write prose and poetry.... little stories that usually describe a moment in time. I'm not an artist, nor am I a good photographer. Most of the time I wind up on Pixabay trying to find a picture that visually represents what I'm trying to relay, and it's really tough to find just the right image.
For this contest, I'm looking for original art (which can include photography, digital art or any other medium) to complement my original piece of writing, "The Blue Wind's Return", which you will find at the bottom of this post.
Rules:
Please read my piece, "The Blue Wind's Return".
Submit your entry by sharing the link to it in the comments of THIS post.
Upvote and resteem this post.
Use only your original work.
Two entries per person allowed.
I will judge the entries based on originality and my own perception of how the image fits my writing.
All entries must be posted in the comments of this post by 8pm eastern time Thursday, September 14, 2017.
Have fun and thanks to anyone who wants to participate!
If by chance this post performs really well, the prize may be increased at my discretion and/or consolation prizes may be awarded
The Blue Wind's Return
Expelled from the warm depths of a dream, I awaken to a sudden onslaught of coldness.
My pulse pounds for a moment while trying to analyze the contrast of the swiftly fading
Images burned in my mind and the frigid intrusion that is quickly overtaking the room.
I try to calm myself and concentrate on the erratic rhythm of the shutters banging in
Accompaniment to the eerily inviting monody carried in with the blue wind's return.
The night is clad in her blackest glory, allowing not even the slightest bit of light as I gather
The quilt to cover my exposed skin before setting bare feet on the cold wooden floor.
I shuffle blindly in the void towards the source of the merciless influx of autumn air, hoping
To regress to the warmth of the bed and the bliss of sleep within a few seconds.
Using my weight to push down the window and secure the encasement, I let the covers slip
Unintentionally from my shoulders. I reach downward through the darkness then freeze.
The thick veil of night covering my eyes affects a heightening of my other senses, and I attune
Slowly to the sound of shallow breathing that I cannot claim as my own and a spot of warmth on the back of my neck.
My lachrymose mood dissolves, and I am uncertain whether my heart is beating out of control
Or whether it has stopped altogether the instant I hear the velvety whisper of confirmation.
Ⓒ Tina Jordan 2017 All Rights Reserved
*second image via Pixabay
