Friday, February 13, 2004

It was a dark and stormy night...

In a naked attempt to keep interesting content here whilst I ramp up at my new job - which is flexing my brain to the extent that new entries just aren't finding time to relax on the couches of my mind and express themselves, instead finding practical work-related thoughts taking up all the room - I am starting an exercise in public writing that has an official name that I can't recall right now, nor do I care to look it up, so there. (And if that last sentence only had a footnote reference on it, I could claim to have David Foster Wallaced it, alas.)

Anyway, here's the deal. We are going to write a short short story. I am going to write the first sentence, and you, my friends and loved ones, are going to write the next one or so in the comments, from which I will choose the best (as determined solely by me) and add it to the existing text in new blog post. We will keep adding from the comments to each post of aggregated story until we have ourselves a short story. I intend to update it daily, and will unless there are circumstances beyond my control.

The only rules are thus:
- No racism. And merely mentioning race or nationality doesn't count as racist, btw.
- Not too blue. We are not writing a Penthouse letter here. Raunchy is just fine.
- You can offer up to two sentences per post in the comments. I will also post my entries in the comments, and then choose from what I think is the best.
- Any other thing I decide is a rule as we go along, but I'm not anticipating any at the moment.

We are not trying to outdo the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, but if we do, that's cool. Here goes:

Though not meaning to, Sally created havoc when she lifted her skirt in anticipation of getting off the escalator.

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