Would you like to play a game?
I bet you’ve done this one before. I start us off with a sentence. In the comments you continue the story.
Write a sentence. Write a paragraph. Write whatever you’re moved to write. Just make sure to continue the story as left off by the last commenter. And feel free to return later to see where the story has gone or to jump in and add to it some more.
Here we go…
It was the hottest day of the year so far. It was so hot it broke records. Nola wasn’t sure what to do.
15 comments:
So she did what she had done for the last six months. She laced up her running shoes, grabbed her Walkman, opened the door and never looked back.
By noon time Nola was as far away from home as she'd ever been, all the way to Jackson County, which she'd only heard of but never seen.
A massive dust cloud rose on the road as a Red Ford half ton started to barrel down upon her from behind.
She dove for the bushes. She couldn't be caught. Not now. Not after all this time.
With Duran Duran playing at full volume in her headphones, Nola had no idea she was in danger. A flock of blackbirds lifted up from a field, which caused her to turn.
And there behind the wheel of the Red Ford was the one person she'd hoped never to see again.
Ronald McDonald, in all his red and yellow striped glory.
Her perfect jogging-pace pulse exploded into full panic. Nola snatched her backup pistol holstered under her leg warmers and fired into the half-ton. Bullets pinged off the grill, the hood, then finally spiderwebbed the windshield.
Nothing slowed Ronald down. He just kept coming.
A maniacal grin appeared through the cracked windshield. He leaned forward, chin nearly touching the steering wheel.
Nola ducked as his orange gloved finger took aim directly at her head set.
........dhole
As his oily fingers (Ronnie had just finished working the graveyard shift) grabbed at her, Nola looked at his face and wondered about Ronnie.
He reminded her of a character from a Stephen King book, but she couldn't remember the name of IT.
Then her terror-numbed brain registered the pistol still in her hand and she clocked him right across that stupidly grinning face. Ronald dropped like a sack of cold burgers.
LMAO. can't continue. must breathe. BREATHE!!
Ronnie stood up, dusted himself for three minutes (until an obsessive beeping noise reminded that he was done.)
He read the comment above and said, "My work here is done. I'm off to see if Jack can come out of his box."
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