10-Minute Write: Surrealism

NOTE TO READERS/POTENTIAL WRITERS: You may see some of my former students responding to these, but it’s not exclusively for them! I invite everyone to write – anonymously, if you’d like. 

“Surreal” is an adjective used to describe things that have a dream-like quality. Take the following pictures, for example:


I love surrealism! I spent ages looking at surreal images on Google images (try it yourself – Google “surreal.” Enjoy the nightmares!) and had to limit myself to a “bridge” theme…otherwise, this post would have eleventy-two pictures (and take eight hours to load).


In 10 minutes, write something surreal. It could be a description of a dream or it could just feel like a dream. Use one of the pictures above as inspiration.


And please comment on each other’s work, if you feel so inspired!


9 thoughts on “10-Minute Write: Surrealism

  1. [[Oooh what a marvelous idea! I hope you don’t mind me playing along!]]

    It was called simply The Way. There were those who had traveled on it, but they had never returned to tell tales of the other side, or if there was another side. The end was obscured by the fog of distance.

    Every year, on the one day when the sun would set in perfect alignment, the ceremony would be repeated. A sacrifice would be dressed in many-layered robes of red and white and yellow, with strands of pearls hanging from elaborate head pieces and a golden chalice filled with incense.

    They would be given wine to drink and sweetbreads to eat, and then when the sun just touched the far end, they would be sent to travel The Way.

    No one knew why this was done every year, nor did they know to where these sacrifices were sent. None ever returned. But every year they held the ceremony just the same, because no one had ever known any different. Because no one had yet ever asked, “Why?”

    • Of course I don’t mind if you join in! Thanks for responding. I love the ideas here, and I especially love the last line. So much to think about!

      I hope you join us again!

  2. The dream was always short. The beauty of the blooming cherry blossoms almost clouded the darkness of the bridge, but I had been through this dream just enough times to know what horror awaited those who crossed. The delicate pink flowers almost made you forget how foreboding the bridge was. Weary travelers would sometimes stop to drink from the fountain on the side of the metallic black bridge. It wasn’t water.
    When I first had the dream I crossed. I woke up screaming
    When I had the dream for the second time I drank from the fountain. I didn’t wake up at all.

  3. There was this bridge. A long, squeaky, wooden bridge. There are many stories and journal entries about this bridge. As a journalist, I’ve always wanted to go there and see what it was like. Ironically , I have never read any of the stories or entries about this bridge. I find it would be a waste of time if I could go myself. It was located somewhere in Brazil, yet it’s not found on a map. I always tell my family about it. My kids anticipated to take me with them if I ever go someday. There wasn’t much research to do about it, so it would be a difficult task to see it myself. But months of contemplating I decided to go. I looked up all the possible stories there could be about it, and printed the most realistic one to take on my journey. I headed off by plane, an soon arrived at a small little airport by the coast. I rode in many different types of teleportation until I finally reached this bridge, It was quite an unrealistic sight. It was in a subtle little jungle, rising above the canopy. I said a prayer and headed off. It was shaped like a ramp, starting from the jungle floor all the way up to see beautiful birds flying here and there. It felt like I was going in circles a few hours in. My legs were weak and shaky, I was almost to the point where I wanted to go home. Especially because of the height. But I kept going. I wanted to see what was out there myself. When I was starting to reach my answers, I felt sort of light, as if nothing was real anymore. It was approximately 8 hours into walking, stopping, resting, reading, drinking, and eating. It felt as if I was only floating. Walking on air perhaps. It ended up turning into the beginning again. Like I was walking in circles and getting nowhere. Which, matter of factly, was the outcome. To add more detail, it was a pretty chilly night, the moon and stars seemed closer. I started to see a clearing, as if the bridge was hooked on to some sort of cliff. I was too excited and started to sprint towards it. Adrenaline rushing through my entire body, thoughts bouncing back and forth through the walls of my head. It all came too fast though. It was quite an overpowering sight. Yet, there was nothing to see. Just… white… All white. Everywhere. But soon enough something brought me back. It caused me a falling sensation, but when I shook it out, and started to take notice of my surroundings…I was back… Back at the hot, misty, jungle floor.

    I cheated a little and spent 18 minutes writing ^^ It’s a little rough and unorganized. And I’m pretty sure there is no surrealism whatsoever =u=

    • No, that is definitely surreal! A bridge that takes you back to where you started – wow. Reminds me of Coraline – have you read it or seen the movie? I love the feeling of the piece, and I love that you branched out and chose an unusual character. Don’t apologize for writing rough – that’s what these are all about.

      Thanks for responding, Christie! Hope your summer is going well! 🙂

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