Anyone want to jump in the story?...

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Offline TheMoonIsDancing

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Anyone want to jump in the story?...

  • on: August 25, 2011, 07:14:45 PM
I started writing a story today. Please read it and pick up where it stops. We are all in this together and I would love it if we all share a story together. This story can pertain to the Hoax, or you can add your own spin on it. Have fun and add your creative touch to a story of a hero:

I woke up alone in bed one June morning. This morning was no different than any other, my first thoughts are "What can I do?"
The weather controls my every move, I belong to it in every possible way. This day in June was alluring, perfect. The skies were cloudless as they are endless, indicating that nothing could go wrong.
The beach is where I found myself that morning in June. My wild hair free from its usual loose bun. My head was empty of thought, what clarity I felt that morning. I believe that every once in awhile, thoughts are meant to leave our minds all at once. Nothing is ours to hold onto. Our thoughts belong to the universe as do we. We are simply holding tight to them with no real understanding of how powerful they are. Power is material. I prefer to be small and known to only those who love me. I appreciate it and am humbled by it. I ran towards the waves and dove in and as the ancient water caressed and coddled me, I knew that God and Earth are one.
And I felt unwavering LOVE in my heart.
On a day like this, its easy for me to lose track of time. I had been there all day. No telephone. No television. No radio. No connection. Just solitude. As I walked home, the sun set and a stalking moon drifted behind me. Gently bobbing along in the sea of stars and planets. Its illuminating glow reassuring me, directing me. I knew I was safe under its watchful lunar eye. Since I was a little girl, I could always confide in the moon. Tell it my deepest secrets in absolute trust. I understand many are frightened by its mystery. I love the suspense. Some frantically flee from its shadows. I dance with them. I walked through my front door and silence greeted me. I walked past the light switch as always and found my way through the dark. The moon outside of my window gazing in, searching for me.
It was getting late and I decided to watch a little bit of news. I'm always saddened by each Breaking News story of someone murdered, a child missing, another war in another part of the world. Its too overwhelming sometimes, but its existence is prevalent. I turned the TV on and flipped through the channels until I recognized the journalist's face. Nothing too bad tonight. No Breaking News stories. What a relief! I sat there thinking, "when is the last time I turned on the news and didn't cry?" There always seemed to be something terrible going on every moment. But not in this moment.
This night in June was inspiring. I felt an urge to write a story. I love fantasy the most, you can go anywhere with it. Our bodies may not be bred to fly, but our minds are meant to soar. I went to my study and grabbed a notebook and a pen. The notebook was brand new, right out of the wrapping. The pen was old but still had life in it. I decided to write outside so I wouldn't be completely alone. I set the notebook down on the patio table and sat down on the chair next to it. I held the pen up to the moon and closed my eyes. I didn't really know what I was doing, but I had a strange feeling the moon acknowledged my gesture. I opened my eyes slowly and placed the pen on the first page of the notebook. I wrote one sentence, "This story begins with our hero dead."
I paused and sat back in my chair. After some time, I leaned over and found myself obsessively reading it again and again. My head felt heavy. I was worried maybe I swallowed too much salt water. Or maybe the menacing sun got the best of me. I had no candle lit, no light turned on. Just the glow of a full moon wading in the black sky. I allowed myself to breathe for a few minutes.
"This story begins with our hero dead."........ .... .... .... I carefully picked the pen up and pressed it against the paper once more. I started to write. And once I started, I didn't stop until it was finished. I couldn't stop. Something like this can only happen once, you have to let it take you. You have to succumb to it, or you lose it all. These thoughts are borrowed, and we are on borrowed time. The story must continue.
"This story begins with our hero dead...

Offline luchy

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Re: Anyone want to jump in the story?...

  • on: August 28, 2011, 10:20:38 PM
?
« Last Edit: August 28, 2011, 10:25:16 PM by luchy »
Michael Jackson
No matter how small we may be, nothing is too big for us, when we are connected with the light.


Offline TheMoonIsDancing

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Re: Anyone want to jump in the story?...

  • on: August 30, 2011, 02:52:56 PM
!

Offline titania

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Re: Anyone want to jump in the story?...

  • on: August 30, 2011, 06:19:09 PM
I let my pen do its effortless walking across the page and wondered to myself where those dramatic words came from! Was it the Man in the Moon that was twisting my mind, making my thoughts wander down the dark alley of Mystery and Detective fiction? It certainly wasn't my idea to write a crime novel! I suddenly felt compelled to look up at the pale moon and I almost felt "him" winking at me in the dark. And then the pen started making littel skittish jumps in my hand again,  forcing me to continue writing. "Why he is dead and what makes him a hero is something of a mystery. How did he die? And why? Questions, questions, questions, and half whispered answers lurking in the murky recesses of our minds. Ok then, lets add a few more facts to play around with. Our hero was found dead in his home, in his bedroom, with his worn out loafers on. He was lying on his bed looking regal and calm, with a faint smile upon his lips. Those that found him felt he had a strange unfathomable power, somewhat like an Egyptian pharao. An Egyptian Pharao who had a ticket to the Break O Down nightclub in his hand! There were no signs of violence or of a breakin or robbery.But the strange thing was that the bedroom was lit up with seven spotlights as if it were a set for a movie or some weird kind of performance. SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE was written in large black letters on the wall behind the bed.

Titania
« Last Edit: August 30, 2011, 06:32:41 PM by titania »
FOOTPRINTS IN OUR SOULS
Fleet feet versus Fleet Street-Twinkling toes to swirling lies-Poisoned ink slides down the sink,
Moonwalker dances on and on, A trail of footprints in our souls