Caught #Writephoto

photo from Sue Vincent

She is bruised on the outside.

Broken on the inside.

And her feet stretch up over her head into the air as the swing reaches the height of its arc. Bare toes blot the daylight rustling through the canopy, and the sun winks through a hole in a tree. A kaleidoscope of light sparkles across her eyes, a vision of angels, a flash and gone.

The swing descends, legs bend, and she leans in, sailing backward.

Long ago, her father had shimmied along the high branch to knot the ropes. When he’d loved her. As a father. As a child.

The ancient maple creaks beneath her weight as she flies forward. Its branch bends and lifts. A rhythm, steady as a heartbeat, slinging her so high that for a moment she is weightless, suspended in green, stretched long, head back, the world upside down, crazy and dangerous.

Then the inevitable fall. The curl inward and backward into another opening, a weightless inhale.

These trees once gathered her dreams. When she was whole among them, a wisp and wish of the world in girl form. She belonged. They are unchanged, sheltering, safeguarding, inviting her to swing. Only she is different. The swing rushes down, catches her, and propels her forward and up. The sun flares through the tree’s round eye.

She lets go of the ropes and flies into the light, a flash and gone.


This is a piece of fiction is in response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday #Writephoto prompt

159 thoughts on “Caught #Writephoto

  1. Vashti Q says:

    Wow. You are an amazing writer, Diana. I loved this piece. There was so much said between the lines and it read so clearly. Well done. πŸ˜€ xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sarah says:

    Reading this reminded me so much of my childhood days spent on playgrounds and swings which I still love. And although there’s that element of uncertainty I have a feeling she transformed into something made of light and etheral when she let go and jumped to join the light.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “These trees once gathered her dreams.” Beautiful sentiment — one I can very much relate to.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. iScriblr says:

    Wow, so gorgeous!❀

    Liked by 1 person

  5. That was breathtaking, Diana! You never fail to impress, but this truly touched me. I used to swing and swing on the little metal swing set as a little girl. Oh to let go of the ropes and fly into the light, and in a flash be gone…
    Hugs on the wing.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Antonia says:

    Sue’s photo is so beautiful. I have a thing for photos of trees from that angle. You really did it justice with your writing, Diana! My favorite line is, “A kaleidoscope of light sparkles across her eyes, a vision of angels, a flash and gone.” I adore your writing, my friend! Happy Labor Day! πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks so much for stopping by, Antonia, and for the lovely comment. Isn’t the tree great – so different from the others. The photo reminded me of the woods where I had a swing as a kid, though without the heartache. πŸ™‚ I hope you’re ready for the start of school. Have a wonderful long weekend.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Jennie says:

    Excellent, Diana. Your imagery is perfect!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Beautiful imagery, as always.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. willowdot21 says:

    A beautiful ending to sad tail . πŸ’œ

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Sisyphus47 says:

    Beautiful and eerie, inspired πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks so much for the kind comment. I agree that it’s a bit eerie and uncertain. That’s the story that wanted to be told – and it didn’t give me a say either πŸ™‚ . Have a wonderful weekend and Happy Writing.

      Liked by 1 person

  11. You’re going strong, D. That is wonderful you finished your prequel as well. Not enough hours in the day! And a very busy new school year awaits. =/

    Liked by 1 person

  12. More fantastical than “The Swing.” πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  13. This is such a profound piece of writing, Diana. It captures well the joy of the swing (oh, how I loved that as a little girl, I spent hours in my tree swing). The bare toes, the canopy, the winking sun is so familiar to me. But there is something else here, and the lines that signal that to me are: “When he loved her. As a father. As a child.” Excellent ending. Very nicely done, my friend. xx

    Liked by 1 person

    • I told my husband last night that I need the extension ladder to hang a swing from the rafters in our barn. πŸ™‚ There’s nothing quite like a rope swing! And yes, a bit of a darker story here too. Thanks for reading and for the lovely comment, my friend. ❀


  14. Lyn Horner says:

    Enthralling, sad piece. Makes me want to know what led her to this unhappy moment and what happens to her in the end. Does she die, does she wake up in a hospital bed? This could be the opening of a great book. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for reading, Lyn. I don’t know what happens but there is some sort of change/transformation there. The story wanted the uncertainty for some reason. It’s what I love about flash fiction – that slice of time without the need for backstory or the next scene. πŸ™‚ I finished White Witch by the way – a great prequel to the series. πŸ™‚


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