The scab

Here's something I wrote recently:

"Not more than a hundred feet off the shore, a small granite scab of an island rose up of those waters, taunting us, piquing our curiosity. I had half a mind to wander over there, taking advantage of the low tides and footpath well-worn by travelers before us. Impossibly tall evergreens clustered onto this island, jostling for control of what little dirt there was left."

As I'm feeling a bit lazy today, what sort of imagery does this craft in your mine? What has brought the traveler to the shore where they find this island? Is there anything of note on it? Who, if anyone, is with them?

I've got to get better at remembering to post prompts.

submitted by legoland12342

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Art

I guess I'll try my hand at this!

The world of the past, along with all art, is but a distant memory, lost to some catastrophe. However one man is now auctioning off his own tattooed arm, the last bit of art that exists in the world. Why is he doing it, and even more importantly, why now? What is this last remnant of art- a masterpiece or even something as simple as a cross? What sort of people would buy this, and what would they do with it?

submitted by marmoulman

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