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2AM Photo

What the? She jerks awake – head jumping from the pillow and a moan of reluctance following the arc of movement.

The white-blue dazzle of LED light jabs fingers in the side of her face and her skin cringes away in irritation at the rude awakening. OK … OK … Forgot to turn the phone off. It’s OK.

An arm snakes from beneath cosy covers and bumbles along the surface of the tabletop beside the bed. In a desperate search to locate the offending contraption, fingers tap against, and then discard, the small collection of items she vaguely remembers dumping before she fell out of her clothes and into bed. Dammit! Where is it?.

More patting until her hand locates soft rubber. She pulls the phone towards her and checks the time. 2AM?!!! Who would be contacting her at this time? She jabs the message open – annoyance growing – and comes to a complete stop.

There’s no message. Just a photo.

        On a black and grey marble top counter, sits a solitary bowl made of thick pottery. Its external surface is painted in a brilliant white and decorated with triangles of bold colour in green, yellow, navy, orange, red and sky blue: waving gaily around the curve like a parade of flags dancing on a summer breeze.

The photo is taken from an a angle that allows the viewer to look down into the bowl’s lime green interior whose high shine slides down into its base and acts as tablecloth for the two Maltesers that rest there.
One sits whole – immediately recognisable in its clumsily spherical, chocolate-covered glory. The other, has been bitten in half and been sat on its side so that the honeycomb interior is visible. A few pieces of the golden crumble have fallen out and lay scattered about like a tempting pathway.

She stares at the small, backlit screen for longer than she realises. There is something about the unexpectedness of the image that captures her attention.

With a sudden shake of her head, she snaps herself out of it; leans a finger against the power button and watches the light fade from the screen until there is only a flat shade of black. So that’s the way it’s gonna be played, huh?

She drops the phone unceremoniously on the edge of the bed, rolls over and drags the covers up over her head: hiding the smile that she is unable to hold back.
 
 

This piece was written and submitted as part of WordPress.com’s Weekly Writing Challenge. The writing challenges are designed to “help you to push your writing boundaries, show off your blogging chops, and, hopefully, spark more post ideas”. The posts should be specifically written in response to the challenge set.

This week’s challenge was “It’s 2AM and your phone has just buzzed you awake, filling the room in white-blue LED light. You have a message. It’s a photo. No words, no explanation. Just a photo. Tell us all about it. And what happens next”.

You can see how other bloggers responded to the challenge, on 2AM Photo.
 
 

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AUTHOR: I am might war. I have a love of music, the written word, travel, Anime, polar bears, people and “sticking and colouring”.

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