Memories.
The old man had not worn his uniform for almost fifty years.
When he finally did, life-scaring memories started floating back to him.
There he stood, in the overgrown field where he once battled for his life, for his name and for his country.
He stared blankly at the sun, fighting back a wave of tears that were upon his eyes.
His heart broke into millions of pieces whenever he thought about the past.
The deaths he witnessed, the friends he lost, and just the slightest thought about the war made him cry.
He stood alone in the overgrown field, sobbing to himself.
His palms were pressed up against his face, trying to forget those gruesome days.
Why I chose this image:
I chose this image because I love writing story's in first, second and third person. And I just thought this was a great opportunity to do so.
Waking The Giant.
The ground began to rumble, people started to scream,
"EARTHQUAKE!!!"
Birds sprang out of trees as a huge, concrete hand reached out from below.
Children stood in shock, women were screaming and grown men fainted at the sight of the beast like hand.
The strange, large, abnormal hand grabbed onto trees, cars and even houses as it tried to pull what ever was down there up to the surface.
A huge, ugly, moss-covered head emerged out from the underworld. More and more grunting and pulling was done until the beast revealed its full body form.
It trudged towards the nearby castle with hunger and anger in its eyes.
