Another week, another VisDare
1 photo. 1 week. 150 words.
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Can’t wait to see what creativity this one sparks!
Ready…
….set….
WRITE.
Angela Goff 
April 6, 2016 at 5:52 pm
Side Effects May Include…
She had been advised to expect the frequent headaches, dry itchy eyes, painful urination, and sudden uncontrollable verbal outbursts; but the birds? No one had warned her that there would be birds.
What was she supposed to do now?
April 7, 2016 at 4:43 pm
One of two great takes on a side effect theme! Love this!
April 6, 2016 at 8:34 pm
Here’s mine… “Ava” http://www.agincourtdb.com/2016/04/ava.html
April 7, 2016 at 4:44 pm
Love your take on the side effect idea as well … makes me wonder what happens if you take a quarter instead of a half …
April 7, 2016 at 5:35 pm
Very good – this. Well done.
April 7, 2016 at 4:41 pm
Mythology in 140 words, anyone? http://starvingactivist.com/blog/2016/04/07/visdare-132-unwilling-woman/
April 8, 2016 at 8:41 am
She couldn’t bear the shaving brush and foam on the bathroom windowsill, and his cologne still clung to the sweater gripped between her fingers. Martha buried her anguish within his scent and memories as she clutched his jumper to her face.
Six days was too long, far too long.
She shrugged his sweater over her head and ignored the cawing birds as they flocked beyond the cliffs. Their mournful cries served only to intensify her grief and choking sobs.
Two uniformed figures walked towards her; they’d known she’d still be there, down on the beach. Their gait slowed as the salty gale assailed them and their shoulders sagged. Black boots kicked the sand as they walked and as she watched behind her trembling fingers, the oldest removed his hat. Tears trickled and she knew what they’d say.
Six days was too long, far too long, and now – too late.
https://thelastkrystallos.wordpress.com/2016/04/08/visual-dare-crumbling/
April 10, 2016 at 8:56 pm
“I’m so fed up,” Chelsea moaned. “Nothing ever happens. Why did I let my parents talk me into visiting my great aunt in the middle of nowhere. She’s old, boring, and only cares about her garden.”
Chelsea woke up late. Great Aunt Mara was outside somewhere in her vast garden. She left a plate of fruit for Chelsea’s breakfast.
“I’m tired of garden food. I’d kill for some pizza and a Frappuccino.”
She stomped out of the cottage, towards the lake. The wind blew the top of the water into small, white swirls. She watched for a while and turned away, pulling out her phone. She sighed. There was no service but she checked anyway.
Dropping her face in her hands she wailed, “Get me out of here!”
Chelsea didn’t notice her great aunt a few yards away chanting and swirling her hands nor all the commotion in the sky.