The exercise:
Today we shall do continuations, four lines of prose at a time. So just pick things up from where the last person left them and go where you will for the next four sentences.
Max turned 15 months old today. I'm not sure how every single passing month manages to catch me utterly off guard, but they do.
Mine:
The folder, thicker than a hamburger from my old man's grill, appeared on my desk ten minutes before end of shift on a sunny Friday afternoon. I could hear the weekend calling me, its breath already reeking of alcohol, as I stared at the handwritten pages spilling out of it.
I wanted to leave it until Monday, wanted to believe that it could wait.
But some part of me, barely audible above the laughter of leaving coworkers, knew different.
3 comments:
At some point you're going to have to stop counting his age by months, if only because it'll really confuse his teachers when they ask you how he is and you reply with "38". But time does fly when you've got more than enough to do with it :)
Hmm, a mysterious folder and only four lines to advance the story....
Continued...
I opened it, morbidly curious as to what was going to consume my evening, and a sudden cloud of perfume filled my nostrils with scents of sandalwood, aniseed and an underlying note of honey. I sniffed again: no, not perfume, cologne. For a moment I was back in Parisian cafés drinking absinthe with beautiful people, laughing with almost-famous actors and my arm around – well, around them.
I sat down slowly, deaf now to the hilarity of my co-workers, and began to read the pages, wishing all the while that the handwriting didn't look familiar.
PS:
Really? Now we know why you've been too busy to keep up with comments every day!
Greg - yeah, I figure that'll happen as his second birthday approaches.
Nice continuation, I like where you went with my opening. Shame to leave it hanging there though.
Oh, and no. Just, no. I hadn't even heard of that until I clicked that link.
Pretty funny stuff, I have to admit :)
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