Sunday, May 15, 2016

Writing Prompt: The Photo Prompt: Is it a Happy Birthday?

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

This week’s prompt is a photo prompt. Write whatever comes to mind, be it a description, a story, or even a poem.

Write something inspired by this photo.


  1. **As a disclaimer, I can't read the name, so if it's wrong, I'm sorry.**

    Gregori had never celebrated a birthday in his life. "It is a waste of time." he'd say to anyone who would listen. Life was about striving for goals and overcoming obstacles, not celebrating something you have no control over.
    That single mindedness had served him well as he rose through the ranks of the Kremlin's top physicists. It had also attracted the attention of Valentina. Gregori had pursued her with same drive he attacked everything in life, and after 2 years of courtship had won her as well.
    Everything changed when Valentina became pregnant. Gregori never wanted children, and Valentina was indifferent. But when the news came, Gregori was surprised to feel excitement at the thought of being a father.
    The pregnancy was difficult on everyone. Gregori was forced to take time off from work, the first time in 15 years, to care for Valentina. She had become so sick the doctors forced her to stay in bed. Gregori prayed, for the first time in his life, that his son might live.
    It was not to be. Octictin died right after birth. Valentina joined him a day later, too heartbroken to stay on earth. And so every May 15th, Gregori walked alone into Café Puhskin and ordered a birthday cake to celebrate the life of the son he would never get to meet.

    1. *sniffs and blows nose* That was so beautiful... and sad. *dabs eyes*

  2. I don't know why this picture inspired unhappy thoughts but here are mine:

    You always used to say
    This was your favorite day.
    Candles, cake and fun play,
    A yearly memory to store away.
    Now, I glance out over the bay
    Questioning why he drove in your way
    Wondering why you couldn’t stay.
    Leaving me alone to pray.
    No, it’s not a happy day.

  3. This makes me think of a rich old man who, to become rich, has pushed his family away.
    He cries over his cake and wishes wish 94 candles to see his family one more time before the cancer spreads too far.

    It may have been dark, but those were my initial thoughts.

    Joe cried, exinguishing one of the 94 candles set upon his small cake.

  4. He'd take it home, set the table and light the appropriate amount of candles on it. For a while, he'd try to imagine how Octictin would look at this age, and could almost hear Valentina's beautiful laugh. The candles burned down, so he would blow them out and help himself to a piece of cake, while tears stained his cheeks.