Bob here, from Phydeaux and Phriends. I've been allowed to invade y'all here with my weekly Creative Writing exercise.
Here's the deal. Each week I solicit comments from you readers - any little bit of action or snippet of description you want - and on Sunday I weave them all into a story. I've been doing this for a couple of months now over at my place, and it's a lot of fun. My original plan was to do a stand alone short short each week, but it's sort of turned into an ongoing story.
So, I figured that I'd introduce the story to you a chapter a day, and then next Tuesday (and each Tuesday thereafter) have a request post. If you can't wait to play, you can stop by my place and leave a comment for this week's entry.
Without further ado, here is Chapter 1 (reader submitted bits in bold):
Bill turned to Jerry and said, "Where did that armadillo come from?"
Jerry replied, "That's not an armadillo. It looks more like an armored dildo." His response was unsatisfactory on so many levels. But then, Jerry was known for not being very satisfactory. On many levels.
Bill stood there, watching the armored critter scurry across the shimmering pavement, and it suddenly dawned on him that he'd made a terrible mistake. Jerry had convinced him to go on the road trip, using that last fight Bill had with Teresa as the ultimate goad. And now, she was desperately searching for him in order eliminate him from her life for good!
How could I have been so dumb? Bill thought to himself, thinking back to the scene a few days earlier.
I want my two dollars!" Teresa shouted over the thunder. Bill stood there, with a hurt look on his face. He'd laughed once when she said things like that. Now he couldn't even manage a smile. Their relationship had always been ... exciting and somewhat contentious, but for many years he had always enjoyed the friction - and the making up.
"Well? What do you have to say?" she asked.
"The drawing was a few minutes ago. If you'll switch the TV over to the news, they'll be showing the numbers. I may have already won?" he responded, his voice growing desperate as her face grew darker with what appeared to be true anger.
She considered a few possible responses, and then realized she had to leave before the rain began in earnest. "I just can't take it any more, Bill. We're broker than broke, and you're buying lottery tickets. I'll be ... I don't know. I just know I have to get out of here."
Teresa grabbed her keys and left, slamming the kitchen door behind her, which caused - as always - the lower cabinet door to swing open, and the mutated cockroaches which had taken up residence there were suddenly bathed in the bright light of the kitchen.
It became quite clear that the cockroaches - like Bill - had no other place to go. It was at that moment that Jerry showed up, and started talking about a road trip to Vegas....
Tuesday, July 29, 2008