Tell The Story Challenge

Published on by ortensia

I have been nominated by my friend Sandmanjazz to take part in this challenge.
The rules are: 1) write something in response to the picture you are given; 2) pick a picture of your own and nominate to three people.

Melissa used to run along the lagune every day after work. She loved the quiet and most of all she loved the ducks and geese gathering together on the patch of grass before the water.
She still remembered when she was a child and the grass was everywhere and so were the ducks and the geese
Her dad was stationmaster at the station on the opposite side of the road. After school, she used to walk to him and together they were crossing the street and bring the birds crumbled old bread.
Despite how beautiful that spot still was, Melissa could not wonder how much more beautiful it would have been if they had not built everywhere around and paved most of the ground.
Sure it was handy to run and stroll on a proper path, mainly for the busy moms and their buggies; and the few coffee shops and newsagent were sure appreciated by the commuters and the random travellers and tourists crowding the train station. She knew she sounded a bit nostalgic, but it was hard not to compare the two scenery…..both beautiful in their way.
Every day she still carried a little bag of crumbled old bread in her pocket to feed the birdies. She didnt needs a big bag like when she was a child because now she was not the only one to feed them. Every child who could stand, even barely, on his feet threw food at the animals.
Over the years the rumour of the free food had spread and when the tied was low, in the afternoon, an army of ducks, geese, and at times swans, walked out the water. At the beginning they were staying on the grass but, gradually, they started to cross the lawn and meet their feeder on the path or by the bench where they were sitting.
The birdies got accustomed to the human as much the humans got accustomed to them, and they peacefully shared the park.
Unfortunately, the city council decided that the birdies had dangerously outnumbered the humans and big signs warning not to feed them appeared along all the park.
The ducks and the geese and the occasional swans started to disappear, and the beautiful park by the lagoon was only another sad grey stripe of concrete with some green patch and water on the sides.
Melissa had stopped to go running there but one day, tempted by particularly nice weather for a winter afternoon, she went back to the once so loved park. She was strolling around when a strange noise attracted her attention. It was coming from above her. She turned the eyes to the sky and she saw it: a flock of ducks were flying above the park in an unusual butterfly shape. Swans and geese to follow completed the fairytale choreography.
Melissa stood up from the bench where she was sitting and started to scream: “Look, everyone, they are back”…..all the people around looked up with their mouth half open in a mesmerised expression.
It didnt take long before more and more people were attracted to the park, all hypnotised by the incredible scene above their heads.
Now Melissa knew what to do: she ran to the nearest cafe, she bought few lemon muffins and started to crumble them. She ran back to the park and went close to the first of the ” no feed the birds “signs; she eradicated it from the ground and started scattering the crumbles. The ducks were at first shy…..too much time had passed since last time they were fed and they were not sure they could trust the humans again but in the end, one by one they won their reluctance and started to land around Melissa followed by the geese and the swans.
The other people in the park was astonished and didn’t know what to do until one brave old man took the initiative, and with all the force he still had left eradicated another of the signs while his grandchildren went to buy muffins too. In a matter of minutes, no more signs forbidding to feed the birds were left in the park and no more cakes were left in the coffee shops nearby.

And this is my photo and I challenge whoever wants to participate.

Enjoy your writing🤓

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30 thoughts on “Tell The Story Challenge”

    1. Not actually but where I live before at the far end of the harbour I always brought food to the swans and ducks with my girls and my stepdad every night religiously crumble the left over bread in a bag that then the following morning scatters on top of the house fence wall for the birds.😀

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      2. I don’t really have a cold actually,just a terrible upset stomach and today headache too…….but at least I had the excuse to sneak into bed for a couple of hours and read😉😘

        Liked by 1 person

  9. Hi Sabina, I really enjoyed reading your story. I was there feeding the birds. It took me back to when I used to take my son to the lakes and feed the ducks. Loved your involving description. I’ll have a go at the picture. I love trains and it’s a good kick start for the imagination, as I plan on writing for five hours today. It might be four hours, as hubby wants to watch a film later and it is Sunday and a writer needs a bit of rest too.

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  10. Elephant grey and cotton wool clouds of coal smoke, puffed from the steam train. Behind were silhouettes of faded mountains and the memories of the man she’d left behind. Lines of tall bottle green trees swept past her eyes and the smell of fresh pine sap filled her nostrils.
    Marina stared and blinked through the dusty glass, as she sat on the thread bare leather seat. She craned her neck to see as far back as she could, hoping her lover might be running after her, in a desperate attempt to stop her from leaving. But that looked impossible, the tracks were long and lonely and the large metal wheels turned faster gaining momentum with shunting sounds, which deafened her ears.
    Her fingers trailed down the window making lines of dusty regrets. Tears soaked her porcelain skin, as a breeze blew the smell of coal and black dust, to cover her finger trials, and in her mind her lover was gone forever.
    Alone in the carriage, she took a letter from her pocket. The envelope was dirty and stained with tears. This was the first love letter in her life. She read it over and over and cried. He’d promised he’d be waiting for her on the wooden platform, but she’d found a letter on a bench instead. She’d recognized his writing and looked discreetly left and right, as she whipped it into her pocket.
    She gulped back her breath in disbelief. Their affair was over. She needed to go home, back to her husband and he needed to find another lover.

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