The New West Writers Photo Prompt is a twice-monthly challenge for writers of all genres. It’s easy to participate — and we encourage everyone to do so. Just spend a moment with the image below and write whatever comes to mind. A couple of lines, or a couple thousand words. Prose, non-fiction, poetry, even a six word story, if you like.
There are no winners (we’re all writers sharing our words) and no rules. Well, one — be respectful with your words.
You can announce your post with a link in a comment below, or if you link to this page from your post, we’ll publish the trackback link in the comment section of this page. Add an “nww photo prompt” tag to your post and we’ll also provide a link to your response in the next challenge. This post outlines these few simple steps.
To get you going, one of our writing group’s members will have the first go at the prompt. Base your post on theirs or go a completely different way.
Just like so many others within the Commonwealth, my father went to war under Canada’s version of the Union Jack. After the war we grew into an independent nation, and one day Canada had its own flag, seemingly the next, a constitution.
We were complete, we were a nation. However, since Mr. Harper’s arrival, there is more a sense of being American. We are giving away our morals as country and adopting another’s. And when examining the political landscape with its attack ads and lack of attention to policy, it gives cause to change.
I like being a Canadian, I like playing the role of the mouse living next to the elephant. It makes me hold our French Canadian brethren with greater reverence as they are a defining characteristic of this nation. And it makes me hold Multiculturalism closer to my heart.
All of that and more, makes me say no, to Stephen Harper.
His pontifications of dependability come from a man whose government has failed to balance the budget in seven, possible eight, we’ll know before we vote, tries.
His attempts to terrorize the country with stories of terrorism running rampant without him, poppycock, simply tails from a bully. The claim of bringing more Syrians here is just air, hot air. He hasn’t delivered on the first promise.
Change might allow us to return to who we are… Canadians.
Such a wonderful thought… isn’t it?
Here are the posts written in response to the August 1st NWW Photo Prompt: (If we missed yours, please let us know!)
The door is a weathered dark oak, with a worn cardboard open sign, dangling in the glass. My right hand grasps the well worn brass doorknob, I turn it slightly to the right and the door swings gently inward with the light tinkling of a bell. As I walk though the entrance, I am greeted with the pungent aroma of fir, the pitches long since dried. The planks of the floor of the entrance way are hollowed out from the years of foot traffic. Stepping further into the building, the floorboards yield a wonderful creak with every step that I take.
I remember one Christmas. I received a gift, a book. As soon as I saw the cover, my eyes became filled with tears, and they began to run down my cheeks. There was something familiar about the author and its context. I didn’t know who he was but the image on the cover and the title made an extreme impact on me and I hadn’t even opened the book yet. I could feel warmth from the words reaching out beyond the cover. I felt strange inside, uneasiness was stirring. It was as if I had known him for many years and that we had shared a life together at one time. The sorrow that I felt was that of loss. I continued to weep.
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I have always taken
the road most traveled,
safe and familiar.
As I traveled these roads
they have become
more and more narrow.
I wish I had chosen
that other road
stepped into mystery
I can not go back,
the road behind
I wait for another
fork in the road
and hope I have
the courage to
explore the unknown.