If you love writing stories then this contest is for you! Write a one paragraph story about the image pictured above. Be creative, think outside of the box and follow the listed rules!
Hello writers and fellow art lovers! Sorry for the delay in this week’s announcement post, my partner was sick and I needed to nurse him back to good health. He’s actually back to his normal self...but I may end up with his sickness soon. Our family has extreme cabin fever so we decided to venture out into the world and now we’re hanging out at our beloved @caffetto, which is where I’m writing this post.
This image was inspired by a toothache that was bothering me. I hope revealing it’s origins doesn’t ruin it for anyone’s writing. I had another image in mind for this week but I haven’t finished it yet. That’s when I rediscovered this beauty and I was curious to see how others would interpret this drawing.
This started with a loose pencil sketch.
Then I began to shade the face in with the round brush.
I outlined the image in a deeper shade. Coloring in the mouth, nose and eye.
A wash of color to the background.
Deeper shadows to add contrast and to shape areas of the face.
And highlights to give the eyes life and to complete the overall image.
1st // 5 STEEM
2nd // 3 STEEM
3rd // 1 STEEM
- Upvote & Resteem this post.
- Create a separate post with your one paragraph stories.
- Maximum length 300 words. (I’ll be monitoring this closely!)
- Use the #foxtales tag.
- Usage of the current story image in your post is optional.
- Submit your post in the comment section below. (I’ll sharing links to the stories submitted this way in the following Fox Tales announcement post!)
- Maximum of 3 entries (only one story per person will qualify for a portion of the prize pool each week.)
- Deadline is this post’s payout.
WEEK #33 WINNERS & STORIES!
1st place // @seesladen “Heather...”
"Do you know what love is...?" He asked, tightening the blindfold over my eyes. I could almost feel his answer before he spoke, but I couldn't possibly have predicted the words.. "Love, an overused and abused word. Easily uttered, easily dismissed.." I wanted to say something, but the sting of the whip as it hit my back took the thought away from me. "I love you Heather, but I don't want to say I love you.." another sting, I gasped... "The others, surely they said the same to you.." I gasped again as he hit another spot, this time harder... Then I felt him come around me, and place his hands on my cheeks, forcing my lips slightly open. Then he kissed me, gently.. Somewhere between my excitement, I heard the thud of the whip as it fell, and my senses heightened at the uncertainty of what was coming. "How do I tell you I love you without using the word love?" I waited in excited impatience. "You are my soulmate.." I could feel his breath on me as he talked. He was standing close, almost touching my already erect nipples. They ached in anticipation.. "You make me different.." his hands traced circles between my breasts, touching them, without touching them. Desire clawed at me.. "My heart aches at your absence, and races at the thought of your presence.." his hand began to trace down towards my navel. "I can't think of what I'd be without you.." he traced around my navel, and continued downward.. agonisingly close to my center.. "My life is almost literally yours.." down there my warmth rushed.. I held my breath, and arched forward... "I love you..." Then he touched me, and I died a thousand little deaths... "There.." he whispered, "I used that word again..."
2nd place // @cyemela “Untitled”
Just a cigarette and a blindfold, that’s what she’d told herself, now in that place she’d often thought of in her moments of freedom. The motivation, to savor the moment after years of hard fought battles, because now the moment drew near and would become a memory soon. A memory, like the memory of her life, a never ending nightmare that she hoped would end soon. This moment, the turning point after years of abuse with her tormentor now tied to the wall in front of her. His mouth gagged, his eyes wide, and his fear radiating across the room to where she took the last drag from her cigarette. She put it out, and reached for the blindfold. Her fingers grasped the sleek silk ends. No one would see this performance, his last performance, she’d be sure to make it that no matter the depths she might need to go to bring an end to it all. Even in this psychopathic moment it would feel like cheating if the daggers she threw did not strike true to kill him. After all, her break from reality manifested from the stress of having daggers thrown at her for a living. It might be one of the easiest jobs in the circus, to be a pretty woman that gets tied up and spun around on a human sized dart board. Only the threat of your life being taken away from you drove your soul into desperation. And now that desperation had taken control of her actions to retaliate with action. She saved him the degradation of the wheel by tying him to the wall she told herself tying the knot in the silk blindfold that now blocked her vision. Then she began feeling for the first dagger . . .
3rd place // @oscarina “Morando en la oscuridad (Relato)”
Ella alguna vez vio los colores, las formas, el rostro de sus seres queridos. Pero por un revés del destino, dejó de hacerlo; su última visión quedó tatuada en su mente: una inmensa e incandescente luz que a toda velocidad se aproximaba hacia el vehículo donde viajaba. Desde entonces, sus otros sentidos se fueron agudizando, reaccionaba al menor ruido, podía reconocer personas por su aroma o por el sonido de sus pasos… Aquella nueva capacidad de percibir “espíritus” de sentir en su piel la energía que emanan y establecer comunicación con los mismos, era lo que lo que la atormentaba; no le agradaba, le daba miedo. Algunos expertos buscaban explicación a esto, señalando que era una reacción producto del trauma causado por aquel horrible accidente, del cual sobrevivió de milagro. Su cercanía a la muerte había abierto un portal al mundo de lo “desconocido”, al “más allá”. Por algunos años logró bloquear aquello, pero recientemente habían aflorado esas sensaciones… Todo había sucedido muy rápido, un viaje a tierras lejanas, su operación para recuperar la visión, su estadía en este misterioso hotel (no era un “cinco estrellas” precisamente) donde debía hospedarse hasta que llegara el momento de retirarle las vendas. Fue en este hotel donde pudo contactar varias “presencias”, unas mas amigables que otras: una camarera que desesperada había saltado de la azotea y que se negaba a dejar el lugar, y una mujer enojada que buscaba venganza en cada hombre que ocupaba el cuarto donde fue asesinada por su amante, eran solo algunas de ellas… Muchas eran las leyendas que rodaban por allí - Son solo habladurías - le habían comentado; ella sabía que era cierto; y mientras, esperaba el momento de volver a disfrutar de la luz y el color, debía soportar y convivir con aquellos "moradores fantasmas"...