KGT1200
01-29-2008, 08:42 PM
Spontaneous thought processes sometimes exhibit great examples of the heartbeat the very soul of humankind...
So here's a beginning of a "story chain". No long drawn-out BS on rules, it's your story when before its posted, twist the throttle anyway you want, and lets see what grows! Or not...let it slide make a joke or whatever; let this post down the slide on the playground of life to the bottom of the thread.
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When he awoke he had no idea if he was on earth, or if he was a human, or if he was a man or woman or dog or an insect.
At first he saw only blue, and the endless column of white puffy clouds brought it all home. This is sky and that's a cloud and he was human! He was here, on earth, on the ground; he began to surface from unconsciousness.
For the rest of his life, that CD recording off Fiona Apple will remind him of that day. As he lay thrown like a wad of trash upon the ground, him along with his precious bike laying on it's side, scraped and leaking gas, and Fiona still blaring away on his I pod; he longed to yell out '"make it stop, make it stop!" as he regained his wits...
And then he remembered it all, from the beginning; what a great day to ride this road, the pavement hot and sticky to his tires, and the bike seemed to join him in the quest to beat the heat by finding that harmony in speed up the canyon. Partially in sun and then dark shade, it flickered like an old time movie as he leaned the bike over, pavement just inches below the heads on the engines he carved in the subtle dark and blue pinion canyons.
His power and enjoyment fled in terror when he saw the flash of silver out of the corner of his eye coming up fast from the rear, if only he has accelerated just then, if only he had known a fraction of a second earlier he was about to be hit from behind. Whoever had hit him was trying to pass him and must of must of hit his rear wheel somehow, tapped it just so to cause it to slide him and his bike to the side. Along with the pain that rose as to meet with his inhales, he could smell the nauseating smell of blood inside his helmet. He began to sweat as his fingers frantically searched for the chin strap buckle
He managed to move his fingers and toes, and began to search his surrounding with his eyes, still too afraid to see if the rest of his body was broken. The cold numbness permeated his body. He could feel the hot pavement below him
She began to cry...
Next? Give it a try...
So here's a beginning of a "story chain". No long drawn-out BS on rules, it's your story when before its posted, twist the throttle anyway you want, and lets see what grows! Or not...let it slide make a joke or whatever; let this post down the slide on the playground of life to the bottom of the thread.
__________________________________________________ _______________
When he awoke he had no idea if he was on earth, or if he was a human, or if he was a man or woman or dog or an insect.
At first he saw only blue, and the endless column of white puffy clouds brought it all home. This is sky and that's a cloud and he was human! He was here, on earth, on the ground; he began to surface from unconsciousness.
For the rest of his life, that CD recording off Fiona Apple will remind him of that day. As he lay thrown like a wad of trash upon the ground, him along with his precious bike laying on it's side, scraped and leaking gas, and Fiona still blaring away on his I pod; he longed to yell out '"make it stop, make it stop!" as he regained his wits...
And then he remembered it all, from the beginning; what a great day to ride this road, the pavement hot and sticky to his tires, and the bike seemed to join him in the quest to beat the heat by finding that harmony in speed up the canyon. Partially in sun and then dark shade, it flickered like an old time movie as he leaned the bike over, pavement just inches below the heads on the engines he carved in the subtle dark and blue pinion canyons.
His power and enjoyment fled in terror when he saw the flash of silver out of the corner of his eye coming up fast from the rear, if only he has accelerated just then, if only he had known a fraction of a second earlier he was about to be hit from behind. Whoever had hit him was trying to pass him and must of must of hit his rear wheel somehow, tapped it just so to cause it to slide him and his bike to the side. Along with the pain that rose as to meet with his inhales, he could smell the nauseating smell of blood inside his helmet. He began to sweat as his fingers frantically searched for the chin strap buckle
He managed to move his fingers and toes, and began to search his surrounding with his eyes, still too afraid to see if the rest of his body was broken. The cold numbness permeated his body. He could feel the hot pavement below him
She began to cry...
Next? Give it a try...