Friday, October 3, 2008

How About This? What's in the Box?

ADDENDUM!
I love the "comments" that have been added to the story thus far! I should probably have allowed more than "one or two lines" from each participant . . . BB and Jeannie have peaked my interest in where they might have been leading us! So, from now on, if you have more to add than "a line or two" feel free" to do so. AND, additionally, I should have mentioned, you can add on more than once, if you feel so inspired/inclined.
Of particular note: Those who visit (lurk), we won't be biting any one's head off if you contribute your fun continuation of this story. In fact, it would be really great to hear from you and learn where your imagination might take us! Thanks in advance to all who have and will contribute to this story. I'll be adding a bit now and then, meself!
Bush Babe at Granite Glen gave me a great idea the other day. She had a contest to guess what a woman was doing in a particular "mystery" photo she included in her post. I thought that might be fun, so I scrolled through the answers already in the "comments" and was inspired by Debby's response (of Life's Funny Like That) and took my lead from her.

That reminded me of an experience I had as a YOUNG teenager at a Church youth activity many, many long years ago. Some adult leader gave us a topic, which I thought was stupid. Yes. I still remember it. It was: Why should or shouldn't you campaign to have your pajamas color coordinated with your bedroom? I don't, however, remember all the rules of the game, but I do remember being rather wild in my defense of matching decor/pj's. AND I do remember having fun. I also remember lots of folks laughing as I launched into my ridiculous rational as to why one should match such silly things. I think I cited things like purple polka dotted pj's clashing with green striped walls, or some other nonsense, as sound reason to need to coordinate such items and avoid nightmares.

So, here are my parameters:

I'll begin the "Story line" and you, whoever you story tellers might be, get to add a line or two to get the story moving. Each contribution should build on the previous one, thus creating a larger story. I request that you keep the language and subject matter in check--as we may have young children lurking over our shoulders, and I'd be very uncomfortable with them getting a shock from any one's addition that might contain something objectionable. [I reserve the right to delete anything I deem objectionable.] Anyway, I know you're all talented enough to keep within "the BOX" and still be hilarious. Please be as creative as you choose! Magic, fantasy, outer space, dinosaurs--you name it--can be part of your contribution. Let your imaginations roll. At least, I have faith that you can follow the guidelines and still have loads of fun.

Since I'm new at this sort of thing, I hope you'll bear with me. My goal is sharing our imaginations + writing skills--and that will be the prize: to just have fun together. And perhaps we can cheer Debby through the trial she now faces. Feel free to invite your friends to participate. And let's have us some a that there fun!


HERE GOES:
On a lovely, crisp autumn day you take a stroll through the woods. After half-an-hour or so, you come upon a beautiful meadow. The sun is pleasantly warm, the air comfortably cool. There are fall flowers here and there in the grassy area before you bounded on all sides by the changing colors gracing the various leaves of the tall deciduous trees. Then you see it! A box. A large box. A large box resting against a huge, ancient forest oak . . .
You get to describe the box, what is (or isn't) in it and . . . (drum roll) . . . what happens next!
Have fun my friends! I'm looking forward to your imaginative renditions of "What's in the Box."

5 comments:

Bush Babe (of Granite Glen) said...

It was clear at first sight, that this was no ordinary box. The cobwebs strewn around it like a gossamer blanket gave just a hint of the strange beauty of this ancient-looking object. Sunlight glinted off something golden. Was it a lock? And if so, what was it protecting?

jeanie said...

You decide to sit and ponder it a while. After wishing you had a decent camera to document its ethereal state and munching through half of your well packed picnic you swill take a few steps towards it.

Why does it feel like the trees are watching your every move - and why does it seem pan pipes have joined the strains of the wind through their branches?

Pencil Writer said...

Pivoting a full three hundred and sixty, you scan the leafy bower above you, but nothing seems to be looking back.

The box beckons you forward; the lilting, windy, musical strains seem to somehow emanate from the direction of the box.

You pause. How can that be? Not a single opening is evident from your current vantage point. Again, you notice the sparkle of something golden. Should you approach? Is it a trap of some sort?

uncleorchid said...

The evanescence suddenly grew to an immeasurably massive form--that of the illusive Golden Wookie from Muskogee, Oklahoma. How can this be? Grayhound. Service stops in front of the muffin shop every 30 minutes.

I approached the Wookie with caution, aware that he could pull some fancy ninja-like moves on me in a flash. We spoke for a few minutes, only to find out the box holds his codpiece. Nice.

uncleorchid said...
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