#thisisaphotograph

[thomastalliscreativewriting-blog]

Milli's Son, By Spike Harvey

There he is… My Troll Son.

With the boys he hovers,

waiting to strike.

The photographer couldn’t believe his eyes. The discovery of the century!

Too bad he wouldn’t live to tell the tale. All thats left is a photograph…

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Photograph, by Milli Lewis

Lilacs and pinks ascend from heaven, washing our already rosy cheeks, our half-moon eyes, our salt laced hair. My cable-knit jumper hides goosebumps you’d never guess were there upon a look. The fence cuts its signature into our backs as we lean into it, fingers gripping the cold wire, reluctant to let go. Their presence tints the air around me, mingles with the smell of vanilla and overpriced churros. Chocolate dip coats our fingertips; warpaint. Waves serenade us, and the light begins to disintegrate, along with our awareness. We need to take the photo, quick, before it goes, before we forget. The camera clicks. Laughter bubbles over, then seeps into the soil. The moment is dead. At least I have proof that it happened at all.

[thomastalliscreativewriting-blog]

The Candle, by Molly Gregson

The fuchsia thumbprint trickles down the glass,

its pink hue pooling and cooling,

colliding and sliding with the white.

Peachy, despite its classic eeriness.

its natural vignette erodes its colour, 

making it a retro homage to its branded bottle.

the blooded teardrops stack up in peaks,

the ridges of the mountains, collapsing in landslides.

the nighttime sun emits fireworks,

an explosion of pink across the colourless sky, 

a splattering of Jackson Pollock on a blank canvas.

it submerges itself in itself,

a collapsing plant against gravity,

branching out a hand that reaches for the table,

before falling and landing on the josh Tillman poster,

caressing him and leaving behind a waxed imprint of magenta lips

[thomastalliscreativewriting-blog]

A picture in time of chemical station 101, by Dylan Marsh

A deafening cacophony danced through the air like a shrieking song intertwining with the grating of gears and the whine of the machinery all around. Dials whizzed and lights blinked on the central console as it regulated the ebb and flow of the chemicals running through the reservoirs and pipes which permeated the crowded room. Atop it all stood a solitary figure leaning over a cold steel rail surveying the scene with a stare as cold as the metal she was leaning on stood… her.

Her gaze fell on the little slice of heaven and hell which was her domain. This was her station a place where she controlled everything, here she was god.

She stood there with her head held high her gloved hands clasped with a fierce might around the metal. Her head and shoulder were held high not for a moment would you suspect the guilt or the burdens which weighed heavy on those shoulders. But one thing betrayed her the one thing she tried the hardest to hide from anyone who may have seen. There rested the mask.

Many of the workers wore masks too, large respirators to leech out the harmful chemicals in the air until it was near enough breathable. But she wore hers for a different reason. She was hiding something. She was hiding from herself. Hiding all the pain and all the loss behind the white mask which rested on top of the face she didn’t want the world to see.  

Her white lab coat seemed to gleam in the gloom and bring a flicker of light to the dingy surroundings. But as the cacophony built to a crescendo beneath the mask she smiled and watched as chemicals were poured into vats and the substances hissed and spitted with an almost monstrous growl. Soon it would be ready for testing and that was when the fun part started.