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Picture is Worth 1000 Words: My friends and I used to challenge each other to “A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Challenge.” We would upload several intriguing photos to Google Drive, and then we had to pick someone else’s photo to write a 1,000-word (or longer) story. This exercise helps with paying attention to scenic detail and finding potential stories in everything. It’s also a fun challenge to issue to your friends!
For the particular image below, I wrote the story almost 8 years ago, and now I can see how far I’ve come as a writer! Before, I used to get very stuck with dialogue and keeping other descriptions as characters spoke, but as I edited this rough draft from a few years ago, I was encouraged that it wasn’t quite as hard anymore. I could easily fill in the missing descriptions, and although it’s still not top-tier, it’s definitely a LOT of progress! It shows me that the more I write, the more progress I make!
[author is unsure of the original image source, as it is found on many websites on the internet]
On a rolling hill, two kids lay side-by-side, gazing up at the clouds drifting across the bright blue sky. Overhead, parts of a cumulus cloud shifted, forming a figure that seemed to emerge from the rest of the fluffy white mass.
“Why did you make a unicorn?” the boy giggled.
“It’s not a unicorn! It’s a horse,” the girl protested.
“Then what’s that point on its head, Brook?” he asked, gesturing toward the cloud. “Looks like a horn to me,” he teased.
“It’s an ear, dumbbutt,” Brook shot back. “Don’t you know what horses look like?”
“Pretty sure they have two ears. Where’s the other one?” the boy continued, grinning.
Brook sighed. “The other ear’s hidden if you look at it from the side. Look at it head-on.” She waved her hands, shifting the clouds so the figure faced them head-on.
“Oh, I see now,” he replied, slightly embarrassed. He’d wanted to tease her, but he’d forgotten how skilled she was at cloud shaping. There was no denying it looked exactly like a horse.
“You’re so thick sometimes, Zephyr,” Brook pouted.
“Hey—I control the wind! Wind isn’t thick at all!” Zephyr retorted.
“Maybe that just means you lack substance,” Brook countered. “Water control is better anyway.”
“Is not!” Zephyr protested. “I can make something better than your dumb horse!” he declared, though he wasn’t entirely sure his wind manipulation could shape clouds with the same finesse.
With a few gestures, Zephyr swept away any sign of Brook’s horse and then began to concentrate, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he molded the clouds. A figure started to emerge: at first, a small dog, but it grew, its snout lengthening, claws forming, and spikes dotting its spine. He even added horns and a puff of cloud that looked like fiery breath.
“A dragon?” Brook asked, unimpressed. “That’s better than a horse? You’re such a typical guy.”
“But look at all the details!” Zephyr protested. “Dragons have tons of cool details—horns, spikes, claws. Your horse just has four legs and a head.”
Brook huffed. “If you take time to shape it right, even a simple horse can be breathtaking. I could have made it trot across the sky.”
Zephyr shrugged. “If you want a real challenge, make a dragon. Only the best kids can pull it off. Face it, wind is superior.” He crossed his arms and grinned.
“Want to bet?” Brook challenged, raising an eyebrow.
“Any day, any time,” Zephyr boasted.
“Today. Right now. Loser does all the chores this week.”
“You’re on,” Zephyr said. “But who’ll judge?”
Brook sighed. “If it comes to it, we can get Blaze to decide. Fire can’t shape clouds, so she’ll be fair. And she’s our friend.”
“Let’s find her then—”
“Find me for what?” Blaze’s voice cut in.
Zephyr and Brook turned around, noticing Blaze had appeared behind them.
“We want a contest,” Zephyr explained. “Who can make the best cloud. Loser does chores for a week. And we need a judge.”
Blaze shrugged. “Cool. Count me in.” She lay back on the hill, ready to watch.
“Let’s go!” Zephyr exclaimed.
Blaze raised her hand. “On your mark, get set, go!” On the hillside, Brook and Zephyr swirled their hands frantically, and in the sky, the clouds swirled with them. Soon, the giant cloud split in two, and Zephyr blew part of Brook’s cloud away from her stash.
“Hey!” Brook exclaimed, retaliating by taking a chunk of his cloud.
“No stealing!” Blaze called in her judge voice. Grumbling, they returned each other’s clouds.
Zephyr was on a roll. Twirling his hands, he formed another dragon—this time with sharper features and intricate nostrils, eye sockets, and a final puff of “fire.” Then, glancing over at Brook’s cloud, his mouth dropped open.
She’d made her horse again, but it was far more detailed this time. The horse seemed to gallop, its hooves kicking up dust clouds. As his gaze traveled up its body, he saw rippling muscles, well-defined lines, and a mane so fine it looked like real hair.
He glanced at his dragon, which suddenly seemed flat and lacking definition. He tried adding scales, but it was harder than he thought. He couldn’t create that kind of detail no matter how gentle the breeze. Zephyr began to wonder if it was impossible to achieve with wind alone.
Looking defeated, he mumbled, “You win. I can’t add that much detail. Sorry that I made fun of your horse.”
Blaze nodded in agreement.
Brook opened her eyes, glancing at his dragon, which was starting to dissipate in the breeze. Seeing Zephyr’s defeated look, she grinned, satisfied—until a pang of sympathy crept in.
“Hey, Zephyr, I need your help.”
Zephyr looked up, surprised.
“Do me a favor—on my mark, push a light breeze toward the front of my horse,” she said.
Still a bit confused, Zephyr nodded.
Brook closed her eyes. “Ready? Now.” She concentrated as Zephyr created the breeze, using the wind to guide the horse’s mane. The effect was mesmerizing; the mane seemed to flow as if truly caught in the wind.
“Sweet,” Zephyr said, “but I think we can do even better.” Now Brook looked confused.
“If you hold the horse’s basic shape, I can move it. Just reform the legs every time they move. Can you do that?” he asked.
Brook nodded enthusiastically. This time, they both closed their eyes, each feeling their elements—water and wind—working together.
“Wow,” Blaze murmured as they opened their eyes. The horse was galloping across the sky as though it genuinely belonged there. They watched in awe before finally releasing their hold.
“That was—” Blaze began.
“Fantastic!” Brook finished, beaming.
Blaze sat up. “You guys should team up more often.”
Brook smiled thoughtfully. “Come on, Short Stuff. Let’s go do some chores.”
“Hey, I’m not short! Plus, you won,” Zephyr reminded her.
“We both won—and lost. We both do the chores,” she said, smiling. “And you’re shorter than me. So, let’s go, Short Stuff.”
“But everyone’s shorter than you!” Zephyr protested, grinning. “You’re like, part giant or something.”
Brook stuck her tongue out. “I call washing dishes.”
“I call drying,” Zephyr said. “Wanna help us, Blaze?”
“I think I’ll pass,” Blaze laughed. “I did my chores already.”
As Zephyr and Brook walked off, they passed the sign at the front of their school: Osworth School for the Elementally Gifted. For them, this was home.
B.R. Quinn 