Last evening, while awaiting to pick up my daughter from rehearsal I decided to have a little fun on Facebook. I wrote a prompt and then invited my friends to participate in a story game…where each posting becomes a part of a (hopefully) coherent story. This was last night’s result.
(Polly’s prompt) The dark haired beauty pressed her face against the window with both longing and dread.
(James) The landscape cascaded by like a silent film. The bleakness of her prospects was reflected in the giant cracks of dried earth which she viewed as like canyons from the air rather than the ancient train in which she sat.
(Patti) Longing for the future of what is to be and dreading the past that could change that future. How much longer could she sit here knowing that her life could change in such a way?
(Donna) The monotony of the view from her window was punctuated only by the repetitious clatter of the tracks. As much as she tried to think of something else, all she could think about was the dread she felt. The unending rhythm of the tracks only increased her tension. There seemed to be no route for escape.
(Polly) But then again, the conflicting emotions come back and there is that part of her ready for the change to come.
(Donna) She smiled to herself faintly as a dark form advanced toward her from the back of the train, and she suddenly thought about the machete she had hidden in her satchel.
(James) Weapons. Why always weapon.
(Donna) It COULD be a TOOL!!!!! An extra large letter opener, for example.
(James) The shadowy figure lingered.
(Donna) as she thought about the many uses she had put her trusty machete/office implement in her former position as Chief of Staff to the CEO.
(James) She heard the familiar click, memories flashed like lightening.
(Donna) The shadowy figure drew back for a moment, as if sensing the nature of her thoughts.
(Dena) she hesitated, should she grab her satchel now? Or wait... no... she slowly reached under her seat and put it carefully in her lap, when the train lurched and screeched a horrid ear piercing squeal....she looked up just in time to see....
(Donna) her extra large letter opener going to town, even though there were no letters in sight.
(Dena) ?? What now she asked ? Did anyone see her act in this crazy way? Other than the shadowy figure? Where did he go?
(Donna) After a few minutes, when she realized that she was no longer at her old office, she stopped swinging her machete/letter opener wildly about the train. He said, with irritation, "Lady. That's what I have a hole punch for. Please leave the ticket punching to the professionals." Her cheeks aflame, she sat down and began to ponder her fate again.
(James) Damn, she thought. Once. Is that too much to ask?
(Donna) The train ground its way back into motion.
(Polly) She guarded herself so as not to be so hypnotized by the rhythm of the tracks.
(Donna) But the more she tried to ignore the sound, the more the tracks seemed to be taunting her. "Who do you think you are?" they clicked. "why do you think things will be different this time?" they clacked.
(Dena) 'It is because I am better', yes... I am better and getting better every day... it will be different, it has to be...
(Donna) "That's what you said LAST time," she heard a voice mocking her. Where was the voice coming from? It no longer seemed to be the tracks talking to her.
(Dena) was it in her head?! No! NO! Not again!! Please, oh please.. I am better, I know I am!! I worked so hard...she silently sobbed...
(Donna) The tears traced a path down her cheeks. As she tried to get a grip on her emotions, she heard yet another voice.
(Dena)It was gruff...eerily familiar..
(Donna) Could this be her future talking to her?
(Dena) Or was it her past?
(Donna) Alas, it occurred to her that her past would also be her future, and for the first time, her heart felt as bleak as the arid scene outside her window.
(Dena) she sighed a deep sigh... there is no hope...no hope at all, her eyes closed as she was getting so tired, she nodded off to sleep with the humming and rhythm of the train lulling her to dreamland...
(Donna) The end???
I don't know...should I do this again? Maybe I could do a weekly meme where I post an original prompt on my blog and see how the story progresses within the comments. What do you all think? Or is this just a lazy way of having other people write my blog for me? :o)