... recently with the idea of taking a photograph and writing a 50 word story to match. It's a variant of Your Messages. I'll upload some of them here - and if you want to play too, send me your link and I'll put them up.
His mother said witches lived there. We’re lucky, she’d say. A warm home to keep us safe. Nowadays his front door stays shut. He talks to no-one. But on mornings like this, when the mist rises, he imagines those witches sitting by their fires. Wonders just what luck really means.