Sunday February 13th, 2011

The exercise:

As a thank you for hanging in there (well, you better have!) these last two weeks, I'm serving up one of my favorite prompts: continuations.

The name of the game is to carry on the story from where the last person left it. Enjoy, and I'll see you guys tomorrow. Well, not see you, but... you get the idea, dang it.

Note: I'm away on my honeymoon so this is a scheduled post. The very last one!


The man stood on the beach, the wind pressing his clothes tight against his body while the sun remained hidden behind the clouds. A storm was coming.

Behind him, about twenty paces away, a woman awaited his return in the otherwise empty parking lot. She sat in the idling car, smoking a cigarette with an expression on her face that indicated she disliked the taste. Her gaze alternated between the clock on the stereo system and the man's back. The radio station was playing a Doors marathon.

As Riders on the storm came on the man suddenly turned and ran back to the car. He jumped in, slammed the door, and threw it into reverse. Without looking behind him, he pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

The woman waited until he had brought them out of the parking lot and to the road before saying anything.


Greg said...

Actually Marc, you will see us all tomorrow; we've arranged to be hiding in your basement to greet you when you get back... :)
Ok, interesting starting point definitely. Let's see where we can go from here!

"I hate these cigarettes," she said, still smoking. "They taste like coconut, and I'm allergic to coconut."
"They're your cigarettes," said the man, turning the radio slightly louder, hoping that she'd take the hint. She was the oddest hitch-hiker he'd ever picked up, odder even than the rich woman who claimed she was shipwrecked. He had to stop pulling over thinking that he'd find someone interesting to talk to.
The car accelerated gently as he pressed down on the pedal, the road stretching ahead of them. It was a thin black line winding amongst the beige sand-dunes. The wind rattled grains of sand against the windscreen.
The woman delved into her handbag and pulled out a paper bag.
"Liquorice?" she offered, and he turned the radio slightly louder again. "I hate liquorice," she said, almost shouting to be heard. She slipped a sweet into her mouth. "It tastes disgusting."

David said...

He hated Jim Morrison. But he refused to lower the volume, rather listening to the faux mystical lyrics than hear the rants of this halfwit. He glanced to his right, seeing her lips move. He watched her chew the candy rope with the grace of a cow, a pretty petite cow, but an animal nonetheless.

The stop at the beach had not been planned. The call should have come when he was alone. He was slipping. He pressed the brake, feeling his calf burn as he applied pressure. He needed to change the dressing, it must have been soaked through by now. No time until he ditched this one. He reluctantly turned down the music.

“Where are you heading again?” He asked.

“I really hate licorice,” she said.

“Where can I drop you off?” He sighed.

The girl looked at him. Her dark brown eyes met his. There was a glint in her eye that he hadn’t noticed before. He knew the eyes, or at least ones that held the same deep emotion. His eyes held that same secret.

The girl reached into her bag and pointed the gun at him.

“You can drop me off at Smitty’s. He’s waiting for us.”

morganna said...

He sighed. Not again. Why did he keep picking up these hitchhikers when the same damn thing always happened? Well, not the same thing, but close enough. They were always crazy.

"Put the gun away. You don't need it."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Of course you'd say that."

"No, I'm serious. I'm on my way to Smitty's. That's where I'm headed."

"Oh, shit." She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window. The gun slipped towards the floor.

He glanced at her. She looked younger with her eyes closed.

Marc said...

Greg - hmm, I had better go check the basement at some point then.

I liked the extension of the woman doing things she dislikes. Also: the reference to shipwrecked :D

David - great details all over the place. The reference to the calf wound was particularly well done, and I liked the twist you pulled off with the passenger.

Morganna - another twist! Nicely done.

Hmm, it seems a shame to leave the story hanging here. I'll see what I can do about that.