Writing Challenge #1 - A Picture's Worth 1000 Words

Today we share our first writing challenge! They say a picture is worth 1000 words and we are taking that to heart today. The challenge is to find a picture, just any random picture and write 1000 words (or more) about what it makes you think of. It can be anything, just what the picture inspires you to think of (it doesn't have to do with the picture what so ever if that's not where your mind takes you).

I did this challenge myself and I used the photo below as inspiration! I prefer writing in the third person but whatever style you like is perfectly fine!

Photo Provided by: Ssantos via Pixabay As Amazing Grace played them out of the church, Sandra Lodge was weeping uncontrollably. She followed her husband’s body out of the cathedral and watched as the pallbearers loaded him into the herst for his journey to his final resting place. As they walked behind the herst to the parish cemetery. Already people had gathered around the green box awaiting its load. The funeral parlor had placed some of the arrangements around the area and it all looked beautiful.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” Sandra barely heard a thing. All she could focus on was the walnut box in front of her. The Priest poured salt on the coffin and blessed it with holy water as he continued blessing her husband’s body. The beautiful rose arrangement that proudly said “Husband” was sitting for all to see. The red and white roses mimicked the ones she held in her hands. The workers from the funeral home had handed them to her once the Priest had started speaking.

She absentmindedly played with the stems of the flowers as she stared at her husband’s mistress from across his casket. She stood in the back, but Sandra could still see her. Dressed in black with high heels on and a small set of pearls, Mary Harris wasn’t even trying to hide her seething rage as rivers of mascara stained her face. In that way, Sandra knew she had gotten the last laugh.

As the Priest continued, Sandra noticed two men she had never seen before join the crowd. Though their faces didn’t seem familiar, she knew her husband had many work associates that she just couldn’t keep track of. Once he was done, the men had all but escaped her mind as she laid the roses on the coffin’s door. Mark was a lying, cheating, son of a bitch but he was well known for his business sense and the company he kept. As she watched the high profiled lawyers, judges and Senators make their way back to the Church Hall where a light lunch was being served, she noticed the two strange men weren’t following suit. “Sandra Lodge,” they said once they were mostly alone. “You’re under arrest for the murder of your husband, Mark Lodge.”

She was still in her funeral clothes. Her skirt clung to her tightly and her blouse seemed ruffled from being put into a SUV with her hands cuffed behind her back. She had been sitting in that interrogation room for what felt like hours. They hadn’t given her phone call, and they hadn’t even really returned since putting her in there when they first arrived. Sandra Lodge was not stupid. She had demanded a lawyer the minute the F.B.I Agent had finished reading her rights. Maybe that’s why nothing was happening yet, or maybe they were trying to make her sweat.

When the two Agents from the cemetery entered the room, she expected her lawyer had finally shown up, but when they closed the door behind them she was utterly confused. She recognized the blood stained knife they laid on the interview table. It was one of the stainless steel steak knives from in the block set in her kitchen. And it was also the knife she had stabbed her husband with.