Hidden Below



In response to the Weekly Photo Challenge over on the Daily Post, here’s a piece by photographer Andrew Brooks.

It’s a part of his ‘Hidden Cities’ collection, and was taken during an exploration of Manchester.

I have a lot of his worked saved and hidden away, because it has often served to inspire and save me from more than one bought of writer’s block.

The reason I love this particular picture so much is because I found it when trying to research locations for Underground, back when it was still a short that took place almost entirely inside a series of abandoned tunnels.

Whenever I’m having trouble writing that story, taking a look at Brooks’ work often helps me get back on track.

Be sure to click-through for the full-sized image and check out the rest of his site too!

Rooftop Symphony

Mad Madrid. Image found on imgur, viewable here.

He was smoking, she could smell it from she perched. The fumes twisted at the end of his cigarette and spiraled around and up into the air above her head. He didn’t make a move to sit by her, only stood behind. Close enough to push her over, to send her falling. Continue reading


Surreal World

Surreal Digital Art from Rolan Gonzalez, see more of his work here!

Now sit here my love and watch, just watch. Watch as I stand apart but steady, arms wide open in invitation as our new world forms before us.

Feel the breeze across the skin of your cheek and know that I am conjuring a place so sublime you’ll shed tears for me once more. Listen to the sounds of a Universe all our own gasping into existence. Smell the new grass beneath and the fresh leaves above and know that never again will we be denied. Taste the clear waters that clash around us, that flow and bend and rain.

This place, this bright open space where no single man is yet King, is mine to mold and yours to protect. For we are done with smite and folly, done with jealousy and malice. We rise higher than the winds, climbing atop the highest spindling branches to begin again. And begin I have, my love.

So watch, just watch.

The Cracked Screen

One of Kyle J Thompson’s surreal works, viewable here: http://kylejthompson.imgur.com

The static cleared and a room came into view. Broken glass scattered over the faded varnish of a wooden floor. There was no pain as such, though he felt the dull ache of old wounds as he pushed himself upright.

The light was natural, breaking in through wooden slats covering the windows. This place was old and left for decay. Like him.

He ran his fingers across the front of his screen. No external damage that he could feel, but things weren’t yet in focus. He turned the lower knob beside his eye slowly, staring at a sheet of yellowed wallpaper not yet peeled away. Its edges seemed to melt into nothing before he twisted back and they came into full focus. Continue reading