Photo Opportunities


Single shots of realism, sci-fi, and whimsical fiction inspired by photos captured while on my daily run.

I started running about a decade ago and several months into my burgeoning exercise regime I began taking quick photos of interesting things I discovered along my routes.

Photo Opportunities is collection of short stories based on these photos. Some, like “Two Roses On Concrete,” beg for backstory, others simply function as inspirational writing prompts. I hope you enjoy!


Two Roses on Concrete

Two Roses on Concrete

David felt the sunrise. His window remained dark but the warmth of dawn spread inside his chest. It was a new day, a day for rebirth, a fresh start, the dawning of opportunity. He was ready to put his best foot forward, take Kathleen by one hand, their daughter by the other, and walk boldly down a clear path ...
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Snail

Snail

Mature Themes/Trigger Warning: Although not lewd or explicit, this piece contains references to harassment and abuse. * Beudelle leaned into the curve of the stairwell and breathed deep. The rumble of the mammoth snail took on sub-sonic tones as the vibrations from the wall shook his spine. The huge vehicle never stopped moving and every motion had a voice -  the engine's thrum, the drill's grinding whine, the boiler's hiss, the robotics' buzz, all punctuated with spurts of steam and sweaty drips ...
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Donkey Donkey

Donkey Donkey

He missed Cow. Cow always left the biggest dandelions for him and she always gave him space. This new one hung around too close. And looked at him funny. Like he wanted something. Cow always looked like she wasn't sure what was going on. That made Donkey feel smart. "Whatcha  doin' over there?" That was another thing. Cow never asked him questions. Donkey just looked back at the other one. I'm judging you, that's what I'm doing. He finished chewing ...
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Life Lesson

Life Lesson

The children followed their mother, eager to continue the night's adventure. She insisted on strict formation, eyes on the back of the one before - she couldn't really police them, but her children generally behaved. They had already crossed the Flat Black and spent hours hunting small game on the edge of the river. This was their third visit to the water and they'd done well. Ma felt confident in her latest brood – all but the smallest had managed ...
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