Writing Prompt
VISUAL PROMPT
By Tilak Baloni @ Unsplash
Use this image as inspiration for a story.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
The bottle sat on my windowsill, the paper curled like a sleeping creature inside.
The moonlight turned the glass almost silver, as though it had been carved out of the night itself.
I kept wondering how far it had traveled—how many hands it might have passed through before reaching mine, or if the sea itself had cradled it all this way, refusing to let it sink.
The ...
The bottle was small and green, like the kind you’d keep a message in if you wanted it to last.
I almost missed it, caught in the rocks.
Inside: a water-stained scrap of paper, with only seven words still legible:
“I’m still here. The sea remembers me.”
I turned the bottle over and over in my hands.
It had no name. No origin.
But somehow, it felt like a reply.
I never saw the ship myself, onl...
They say the ship wasn’t always on the surface.
That long ago, it belonged to the depths—gliding silently beneath the water like a secret.
But one day, it forgot how to sink.
I came across it by accident. The tide was low and I was walking past the salt marsh.
There it was: wood bleached by years, anchor rusted and half-buried in silt, yet still drifting, inch by inch.
It moved like a dream that...
The morning the sky broke open in light, I saw it.
A ship, pale and still, drifted toward the shore like a memory trying to return.
It made no sound. It cut no waves.
I stood barefoot on the sand, and the tide curled around my ankles like it was listening.
The ship bore no sails. No name. No crew. But inside, I swear I heard a voice—soft, childlike, humming a song I had never learned but somehow...
