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10-28-2024, 08:21 PM
This post was last modified 10-28-2024, 08:23 PM by Quantum12. 
I challenge you to write a story of the second photo I post. The first photo is my story.
After you write a story post a photo so the next person can write a story. If you can not post a photo just say “the next story should be about a pink flying car”
I will start!
Here is the photo I have to write about!
Snowplow
Without the mighty snow plow we would all take a fall,
Wow Mr. snow plow you have a big call,
When the snow begins you are the first on the scene,
Others wow they can sure be mean!
All through the night with out fright you clean our streets
Getting stuck in this muck is not your luck,
The passers by wink their eye because you helped them get by.
The next person writes about this photo.
Be kind to everyone!
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10-28-2024, 08:54 PM
This post was last modified 10-28-2024, 09:29 PM by IdeomotorPrisoner. 
So I get to pick the photo for the next story? Is everyone sure they want to that?
Okay...
He only cost 1500 dollarydoos, but Andy The Clown Kangaroo was an instant success.
His owner was an eccentric millionaire and footy team owner from Sydney, NSW named Austin Horatio Svalbard-Hopsinger. He was known for his government-funded monotreme militarization projects, in which platypus were trained to place bombs at miltary bases by freshwater creeks.
But this wasn't "Operation Platyplatoon", it was for entertainment.
First problem was getting the Kangaroo to wear extra floppy shoes, but after some tough training, this was accomplished. Next up was getting him to not attack children. This was done with offering a bouquet of succulent plants, like ferns and mosses.
Sadly or very happily, after 18 months of captivity he escaped into the outback after learning how to unhook the perimeter gate, but not before viciously mauling his owner.
He was never seen again.
********
I wanted it to be totally random. So courtesy of Random Images here is the next story.
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"IdeomotorPrisoner" Your writing is the best!!! lol
Here I stare with my Bizarre. I am so big and plump my husband has to jump.
I play banjo when it’s cold as I lick my lips from this mold. This blue looks sexy on me I hope my man takes a knee and not a pee.
It’s good to be me!
Next photo
Be kind to everyone!
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10-28-2024, 10:26 PM
This post was last modified 10-28-2024, 11:14 PM by IdeomotorPrisoner. 
"I don't want to play anymore," said the little girl, "this just got weird and icky!" She thought to herself, "Didn't I tell them I wanted to ride around with Mommy after last time?"
She contemplated her situation, clearly wires got crossed somewhere. She had alluded her father's behavior was off putting, sophomoric, and even demeaning to her. Why did they ignore her when she said she would rather ride with Mommy?
The rides her father subjected her to were life changing, and forever imprinted her with a revulsion to being seated behind anyone.
Next up: AI Generated from prompt this time.
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(10-28-2024, 10:26 PM)IdeomotorPrisoner Wrote: Next up: AI Generated from prompt this time.
[Image: https://denyignorance.com/uploader/image...Chrome.jpg]
Let's go full circle, and AI generate the story from the AI-generated photo:
The Shadow of the Serpent
The air hung heavy with the scent of decay and the promise of rain. In the heart of a forgotten city, a lone figure stood tall, her dark cloak billowing in the wind. Fatima, the last of the Serpent Keepers, her face etched with the weight of ages, stared at the towering statue of a winged serpent, its gaze fixed upon the heavens.
A shadow fell upon her, and she turned to see her brother, Ibrahim, his armor scarred and bearing the weight of countless battles. “Fatima,” he said, his voice heavy with grief, “the city is dying, consumed by the whispers of the shadows.”
"The whispers are but a symptom, Ibrahim. The true sickness lies within us," Fatima replied, her voice laced with sorrow.
For generations, the Serpent Keepers had guarded the city, wielding the power of the serpent to ward off the encroaching darkness. But the serpent had been slain, its power waning, and the shadows grew stronger with each passing day.
Ibrahim had returned from the front lines, bearing the weight of a lost war. He had witnessed the cruelty of the darkness, the fear that gripped the hearts of men, and his eyes burned with a yearning for vengeance. "We must fight," he declared, his voice filled with righteous fury. "We must rally the armies and crush the shadows!"
Fatima shook her head. "There is no victory in a war against shadows, Ibrahim. Only more darkness."
"Then what are we to do?" Ibrahim asked, his voice hoarse. "Let the city perish?"
Fatima’s gaze returned to the statue, her fingers tracing the cold stone of the serpent’s scales. "We must remember the Serpent’s lesson, brother. Its strength did not lie in its fangs or its wings, but in its wisdom. The truest battle is fought within ourselves, not against an enemy without."
She turned to Ibrahim, her eyes filled with an ancient wisdom. "We must rebuild, not with swords and shields, but with compassion and understanding. We must learn to embrace the light within us, and guide others toward it. That is the true legacy of the Serpent Keepers."
As the first drops of rain began to fall, Ibrahim stared at his sister, a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes. He had spent his life fighting the darkness, but now he realized the true battle lay not in the shadows but within his own heart. The Serpent had fallen, but its legacy lived on, whispering a powerful message: that the greatest victories are not achieved through force, but through the strength of the human spirit, a light that can illuminate even the darkest of times.
Not bad!
I followed the Science, and all I found was the Money.
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10-29-2024, 03:42 AM
This post was last modified 10-29-2024, 02:47 PM by Quantum12. 
As the faceless man returned home from war he wondered why he was fighting,
All his battles took him to a point of no return.
For 46 years he rested in a field of burnt trees lying on his back,
Far overseas from his family and home.
He was just 18 when he was forced to join this war machine,
They trained him and stuck him in a jungle of fear.
The poor boy did not want to kill another human,
As fighting began this brave soldier took off into the jungle.
He hid from the fighting and threw away his dog tags,
As he was surrounded by the people's country he invaded he was shot 3 times.
He returned home as a older man, he missed most of his life but he never killed a soul! He also never wore the cloths of war!
Next photo
Be kind to everyone!
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Great idea, Quantum12. Already some great stories.
Pinning this for now to the Short Stories forum for max. visibility.
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10-29-2024, 02:49 PM
This post was last modified 11-01-2024, 12:04 PM by Quantum12. 
Shark Horse photo:
Oh no shark you are a horse,
I liked you better in the sea,
Now you can run and bite me.
Shark horse says
No no Quantum I am not after you,
I am chasing a fisherman who made a do do,
He yucked up my water and ran away,
See you Quantum have a good day.
Next photo to write about
Be kind to everyone!
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Cat In The Hat
The cat in the hat got really fat,
He ate green eggs and ham,
The cat in the hat met the grinch and Lorax,
Together the three stole Christmas.
One fish two fish red fish blue fish all became friends with the fat cat in the hat and went rat tat tat
Next photo
Be kind to everyone!
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Yesterday, 11:33 AM
This post was last modified Yesterday, 11:34 AM by Maxmars.
Edit Reason: formatting
 
(11-01-2024, 12:06 PM)Quantum12 Wrote:
I am transfixed!
Here with my popcorn, watching the fray.
Throw, pull, fix, push, jab, parry, swing and duck...
Making believe that it all washes clean in the end...
I love fantasy fighting. I love the winners and the losers... because winners win nothing, and losers lose nothing.
A contest of the ether.... virtual pride, virtual dignity, virtual value...
Bring on the contest, bring on the faux conflict, make what doesn't matter... matter.
I have no favorites, I can't have "skin in the game" because I'm never really allowed to play.
But watching... that's fun!
next photo:
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