“Far From the Madding Crowd” – Creative Writing Prompt

“Far From the Madding Crowd” – Creative Writing Prompt

I am left alone or I ran so fast, the chains holding up against the past. I want to be no more the victim of illusion, all I want is to live a beautiful life. The loud noise always hit the eardrums, am I deaf? or the sound I hear is the sound of triumph. Far from the madding crowd, I see the real truth, all were nothing that I lived, but a fear ruled inside my soul which makes me real numb.

Vowelor has started a weekly creative writing prompt for all the writer’s community where wordsmiths cleverly weave tales around an image given to them.

Read the amazing writing pieces telling the unique way of ‘Far From the Madding Crowd’ in the photograph featured above.



I am a complete mess…nothing in order…the rule breaker..the trespasser…people had no hope in me…not even my mom and dad…today I got fired from work…and the reason? I talked back to my boss…yup I did it…anyway I hated my job…I knew this wasn’t my cup of tea…but then what is it..??? Sitting here looking at the river….i felt I was the river..im everywhere but nowhere….Then I saw those huge skyscrapers standing all set with pride beside this huge river….well after all water is life…yes it is life….I am life……a cold breeze kissed my face…I knew what I had to do….this life is just one…I will flow like the river …seeing different places…people…I will follow my instincts..my heart….for the first time in my whole life everything made sense and I could feel sometime after I would stand proud like those tall buildings….I could see my reflection vividly……..so what am I waiting for?????

Creative Writing Prompt Winning Entry

by Anu Prem


I vividly remember the day you left me at the bank of the river…You had a bad habit of doing things partially…so when you left you did not leave wholly…Your voice still lurks between crashing waves in this river..Every time I walk the air filled with your lingering fragrance rests into the realm of my soul…You are still here in the notes played in the orchestra of my heart…You are still present beneath the affectionate shadows of soothing clouds.Even the aroma of tea sipped here reinvigorates the savior of all those moments we spent together over a cup of tea..Sitting here I have realized that your separation proved a prelude to a greater love for you than ever before…

Now when we are no more together
We never meet but only in our dreams
Every time you cross my mind as a memory
You alter my silence into poetry dreams…

Creative Writing Prompt Entry

by Israr Ahmed Khan


The sea mist sprayed up my back. I welcomed the cold it was a warm and humid evening. For too long I had sat in the pointless meeting. The sweat from my body clinging to my back and chest. It made me feel dirty and grimey, much in keeping with the subject matter we were discussing. I had been called in to address “my relationship with Michael” apparently our relationship was unethical.
As his teacher, I should have known better.

The only thing I knew was what we had was pure and beautiful. He cleansed my soul like the sea mist washed away the heat. We were both adults, both of sound mind. But then there was Sarah, my wife.
An innocent casualty in out love story. How could I tell her what had happened? How could I explain that after twenty years of marriage my eye had wondered? Been captured by a boy, half my age.
Turning to face the sea, the waves thrashed upon the sea wall. The rocks below looked jagged and menacing.

How could I tell her how hard I had fallen. Head over heals. I felt no shame about my decision but I felt sorrow for my wife.

People would talk now. It would soon be in the open. It would bring shame to my family, leave Sarah a broken mess. How would I deal with this?

Leaning forward. I welcomed the cold of the sea. Washing away the heat. I fell head over heels. The waves thrashed my body against the jagged and menacing rocks. Washing away the dirt of the day.

Creative Writing Prompt Entry

by Julie Sanford Slattery


The old city calls. Dark and cold, fuming with industries and greed. The cold breeze caressing my hair, whispering stories, stories of oppression and destruction.

I will sit this far and wait for the day, someday for it to succumb to its own Chaos, for it to become barren and waste like the arid hearts of the desolated souls who inhabit these lands. Its been a long time feels like ages. I was 10, I was hungry, hungry for knowledge, foolish enough to dream and I was eager to learn. It’s all his fault, my Dad’s. My Dad, working at the firework factory, he would hold my hand and tell me stories, stories of big schools, they have benches and uniforms, a house made of bricks and cement, of food so delicious it melts in your mouth. That day, he was taking me to school, he told me about his friends, a job they did together, they are coming back with money and the job was done and we will leave in few days and the dreams we shared, we are gonna live in it. He would hold my hand and he was full of joy, he was looking in my eyes.

Drowned in satisfaction of parenthood, he bumped into a guy and he stopped. His grip felt lighter, his palm felt weightless as it slipped through mine. Father! Why would you leave my hand, You would never leave my hand, You promised. I turned to watch him fall, his shirt running red, eyes widened with shock, forehead wrinkled with pain. Father! Fatherrrrr! I cried but he won’t listen, he would try and crawl to that guy, holding his guts in one hand and stretching the other to reach that guy. But he walked away, slaughtering a home. My Dad held my hand one last time, “Take care of your Mother”, his words, I remember.

I was stunned and young so young, Young and afraid. So, I ran, ran through the streets and the empty corners, ran till my legs bruised and my heart ached and I found myself here, on the edge far from the screams of this city and the cold breeze whispered, “Take care of your Mother”.

Creative Writing Prompt Entry

by Lokesh Ranjan


Looking back into the times of utter voidness which is composed by the irony of fate, that is intentionally driven by the madness of God’s extraordinary nonsensical plots! Tired enough to question the time that rolled back without my actual interference ( sighing) I ask myself for the reason for budding chaos in search of meaning, in sudden enlightenment to make something out what that is left!

Fighting the thoughts that swirled within, I cleared the far stretched gaze only to see a half grown city in distant! That City, whose origin roots back to the age when people actually started to fight for life! Trying to breathe that very air which is polluted by the smoke of dozens of cigarettes, costly perfumes and with the dust of poverty.

Feeling suddenly wide-eyed with the rudeness of what it is true, Am I breathing fast in that very negotiation to find another new window to look through? Or calmed with that over anxiety in making new life? Throat struggling to scream his arrival to that city of million lives, spaced with working shifts! Do I miss Miranda? he tried to push that thought from surfacing, Miranda whom he always remembered of for her unconditional love as his sister!.

Creative Writing Prompt Entry

by Vivek Burada

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