Random Photo, Random Story
I found this nice photograph over at Beautifully Profound.
Here's the task for your imagination. Take this seemingly random photo, which could be from anywhere in the world, and give me a story. What is going on? What is happening behind the scenes? Perhaps something is about to happen? Perhaps nothing has ever happened?
Let's see what our collective imaginations can conjure up.
13 comments:
Yes, lets! It surely will be interesting to see what will be imagined.
Here's an unimaginative stab... A middle-aged man is touring a friend's garden. Little does he know that in a moment, the gardener will burst from the stone doorway, knocking him over. The visitor's hat will also fall to the ground, but the gardener will immediately retrieve the hat and apologize profusely.
I know what will happen in this place in the future, right down the very hour. A wedding, the happiest day of my life when Miss BP becomes Mrs Mik.
A middle-aged man is touring a friend's garden. Little does he know that in a moment, the gardener will burst from the stone doorway, knocking him over. The visitor's hat will also fall to the ground, but the gardener will immediately retrieve the hat and apologize profusely.
So, why is the gardener bursting from the door??? Ah, perhaps, because he has been in hiding for the last 20 years. A former espionage agent from the former Soviet Union and a double agent, this so-called gardener had hoped to leave the life of lies and deceit behind. But the gardener sensed something was wrong and spotted a an undercover op. just down the street. The gardener quickly gathers the essentials from his room (money, passports, etc.) and heads out through the back - gradually picking up the pace until he gets near the door, and then in a burst he runs into a friend who was touring the garden.
Mumbling a quick apology and excuse for his hurry, the gardener continues on his way - on foot - his mind working quickly to think about the best way to travel and to get out of the country.
He is on the run again.
You must still have that "Bourne" movie on your brain.
How about this:
The gardener goes into the little hut and says to the wife, "Murial, I don't know how we are going to make it another season." "Things are rough around here with drought, and we just don't have enough money in our savings to keep this place going."
"Oh Thomas", she says. "We have eked through year after year on Gods graces we should be fine another year."
"Well", he says becoming impatient, "God doesn't keep our bank account in the black now does it Murial?"
"The Lord won't ever give us anything we can't handle."
"Pray with me Tom, just this once,I think you could do with a little praying at the moment. Besides I love you so much and have loved you for the last 50 years just once open your heart to God. Because well, you know i'd like to spend more than this physical life with you, I want you to have a place with me in Heaven as well." She said quietly.
Sensing her eyes on his back he turned around to find her eyes filled with tears, he could see this meant a lot to her and if it made her feel better about the current situation of being broke and down on their luck so be it.
He walked up to her kissed her softly on the lips and said quietly, "OK Murial let's pray"
That's all I got, a bit hard to be imaginative whilst at work. Too much going on around me.
Indeed, plus a few scenes from Les Miserables (movie) came to mind as well when Jean Valjean worked as a gardener in the Paris convent while Cosette goes to school.
The old man leaves the back porch, stumbling after shuffling his feet on the loose paving stones he promised to fix but never did; he's had too much of his 'special' lemonade. Listening on the radio to the boys of summer lose in extra innings, he forced the last 3 gulps down his throat for good measure, thinking how the special sauce will dull the pain of the prospect of another run at the playoffs slips away like a grease pole climber at a county fair where all the single wide owners gather to prospect cheap gambling, cotton candy, and the latest muscle machines that guzzle gas like greedy monsters in search of satiatiion like Hitler's armies marching across the Vulga river hoping to take Stalin's fields underneath which lie the rich, black, liquid to fuel his panzer divisions--the key to world domination.
"Kindof like the same damn mess we're in over there," the old man said in reference to his own countries feud in a far ancient near country.
His feet scuff at the loose stones. He ducks into his garden shed, walking past the unfinished goldfish pond he'd promised so many years ago. "When will this damn team step up to the plate and do like they should?" he mutters, as he twists the light bulb in the shed, turning it on. Old, rusty tools lie scattered around, some from pre-war days.
he's had too much of his 'special' lemonade.
Based upon a true story.
looks to me like he's just on his way back to Best Buy to return his crappy iPod.
If that's the case, then I recommend taking a baseball bat.
Bravo! Excellent stories.
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