A few posts ago we tried to create a story one line at a time (here). The results generated lots of interest, so I thought we should give it another go under more controlled conditions. Once again, we need everyone to help out.
As before, I would like us to create two short stories one line at a time. Each story will start with the same initial line, but one of them will be written by men whilst the other will be written by women.
Here are the rules….
- Each person can only submit ONE sentence
- The story will end after 50 sentences.
- Try to build on the previous contributions.
- Really try to work together to create something that makes sense.
- Try to avoid the ‘and it all turned out to be a dream’ scenario.
Please encourage your friends to contribute -it would be great if we could get it done and dusted in a day again. Once again, we will look at the resulting stories in terms of differences in character, plot and structure.
This is the FEMALE thread of the project so if you are a woman, feel free to contribute. After our initial attempt, I asked everyone to contribute a possible opening sentence (here), and this is the one that I have chosen (thanks Margaret) ….
The box was old and dusty, and clearly hadn’t been opened for many years.
Yet the intricacy of its design suggested it had once been a treasured possession.
But what on earth is it doing in my onion bed?
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After all, I’d cultivated the bed only a few weeks ago, so it must have been buried there since then.
I looked over the box and wondered – should I open it?
I swept off the bits of grass and dirt from the sides and gingerly ran my fingers along the groove of the lid.
After a moment of hesitation, I shut my eyes and turned the silver knob that released the latch.
Surprisingly, the latch popped open with little effort, and I took a deep breath in preparation for what I was about to see.
The insides were lined with deep red velvet; in the middle of its depth lay a mottled, sparkling golden egg.
The egg was etched in such a way as to appear to be Fabergé, but instead of being empty inside, it was filled with a soft glow.
A strange sound began to permeate the whole room, and I was mesmerized.
However what began as a soft comfort of sorts transformed into a deafening violence that despite my efforts, would not allow my ears to tune out.
Suddenly the egg broke open.
A blinding light erupted from the egg, and I felt every entity of my body vibrating, as if taking me into another dimension.
“I refuse to go back there” I whispered under my breath, “No. Not again”. The light encompased my body and took hold of my breathing. “NOT AGAIN!” I yelled.
Everything around me seemed to disolve into nothing as I felt myself being lifted into the air.
Mmmm, these Cadbury’s Cream Eggs are cracking, I thought, dabbing my tongue on the fondant filling. Sheer bliss….
http://www.okathleen.wordpress.com
This diverting fantasy soon melted into the reality I was avoiding, I was being abducted again, it has been such a long time but I knew it without doubt.
But all that the Cadbury egg thought was, “Oh no, not again.”
Yet today I tried so hard, I weighed everything I ate, counted the calories precisely, yet come evening it happened, the thing took me over so I ended up eating the forbidden fruit.
As soon as I had swallowed the last mouthful I could begin to feel my stomach tingling and I cursed inwardly as a bright glow began to surround me, ‘Not again’ I thought.
I tried to move, but my feet just wouldn’t cooperate.
The shame of eating that egg was freezing me to the spot, I needed help but who from?
The answer came to me in a flash: Al Gore!
Luckily I still had his number from when we invented the internet together.
Luckily my hands obeyed my commands, so I plucked out my mobile and dialled Al’s number.
The message came loud and clear “due to Global Warming Al has reverted to snail mail”, gadzooks, it’s nearly closing time at the Post Office, come on Napoleon, gee up…
http://www.okathleen.wordpress.com
That of course was a my little joke as I do not possess a snail, or even a bike. But
then I wondered: when I saw Al in an interview, he said something that sounded faintly “familiar”, a tantalizing tidbit, but what was it?!!
I recall it had to do with the polar bears…
Then it came to me like a flash – “don’t put all your eggs in one basket” he’d said, to the worried looks of the interviewer..
But I & others knew exactly what this coded message meant..
… It meant I had to buy every Creme Egg on the planet and pretend such a piece of confectionery had never existed to begin with.
Trying to imagine how this would be possible, I turned to inspect the unearthed box more carefully.
..Instinctively she prised out the fake bottom of the box to reveal a small hidden section, “of course!!” she said aloud..there, etched in the wood there was the brief inscription..
“sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth”
Of course I didn’t understand what it meant, but I was sure I could find someone who did!
Through the bathroom window I could just barely see old Mrs. Ramos hanging clothes on the line – the sharpest, wittiest, and most all-knowing sage this side of the Mississippi.
It was almost time for tea, so I gathered up some sweets, and with the mysteriously inscribed box in hand, made my way to the Ramos retreat.
After having heard my story over a cosy cup of tea, Mrs Ramos sat still for a while, pondering.
You have misunderstood the words inscribed, they are jumbled up and have hidden meaning – the inscription reads ‘As the harp soothes, tug one…Test West.’
I pondered for quite some time until I finally understood the meaning of the words.
But, just to be sure… I entertained some other possibilities as well…
No, I was right the first time, and contemplated the words that were calling me to my destiny, realising that ‘As the harp soothes, tug one…Test West’ could only mean one thing: I must hitch a ride (tug a car), playing my blues harp, and head west (of the Mississippi, then south a bit), travelling to that Mecca, that Promised Land, Australia, that land of milk and honey where the chocolate truly runs free.
PS: “…where the chocolate truly runs free…” — Mainly because it’s so bloody hot!
Yes, to Australia…Where the chocolate runs free and the water is scarce.
The picture of my beloved Australian boyfriend appeared in my mind, and a happy smile on my face: This was certainly the most original let’s-move-in-together proposal ever!
Rummaging under my pillow, my trembling fingers found the last letter he’d written to me.
I unfolded the thin paper, and my eyes fell on the last line: “It’s time to start living the life you’ve imagined.”
[...] Update: Oh, just noticed that the men have finished their ‘one sentence at a time’ story – but we just need three more sentences for the female one here. [...]
I should have known it was him,
such a practical yolker,
eggstraordinary really,
but it wouldn’t be an oeuf for me,
and what with his eggo:
life just isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…
http://www.okathleen.wordpress.com
So, I’m going to take that piece of paper and shove it where the sun don’t shine that’s right back in its box buried deep down under the onion sets again with the worms and the grubs and let it go rusty and rank like him I don’t need to take this any more – I will live my imagined life far away without him and his bad breath and his fungal feet – in a hammock under a palm tree drinking a cocktail from a hollowed out coconut – farewell fetid friend xx
http://www.okathleen.wordpress.com
Or maybe not – maybe I’ll just move in with him.
OK – that’s it!