prompt 2

As my gaze falls down on photo fourteen. I am reminded of a youthful time. My arm around my love. My thoughts bogged down in mortal mud. Space pressed in by rocks around. Our time so brief. Our bones so brittle. We the dust of time.

prompt 1

The clear plastic drawer is a gateway into a creative world of mechs and men. Surrounded by a pale blue guardian; they await their freedom. Apart they dream and together they gleam. The master calls and the parts coalesce. A creature is born. A monster is grown.