Monday, January 24, 2011

The Next Line Blogfest

I remembered a blogfest! Okay, this one is a little different because it involves taking a story that has already been started and continuing it, and the readers get to take part too! So, first I'll explain a little about the blogfest by Christine. Make sure to check out her blog at to see the links to the other people who are taking part in the challenge.

Normally, I don't do the continue the story type of activities. While many people enjoying the group effort of telling a story, I'm a little too possessive of my characters to let others write them. These are called campfires on and I've only enjoyed doing it once because we each had our own characters to use. But when I saw this blogfest, I decided to jump in and give it a try.

For the blogfest, each person signed up starts with the same introduction to a story created by Christine. And it's a cool one. Comments can either be about the writing or anyone who wants to add to my version of the story can go ahead and add a couple of sentences/paragraphs in the comment slot. But make sure to read other comments if adding so that it doesn't get too confusing if you go that route.

The first part written by Christine:

3:00 am. Those numbers glowed green, staring at me, letting me know I wasn't sleeping. I couldn't. If I did, who knows what injury I would wake up with. Every night a dream would consume me, and when I woke, something on my body was cut, bruised, or almost broken.

I started at the ceiling. The fan squeaked and wobbled, trying to produce air flow. It wasn't succeeding. I turned over, hugging my pillow. What's happening? Maybe I should see someone, but who? A doctor? Padded room for sure. Is there such a thing as a dream specialist?

A branch scratched the window. I turned over again. 5:00 am. Where did the last two hours go? Adrenaline pumped through my veins, accelerating my heart. My T-shirt was damp and clinging to my back. What happened? Did I dream, again?

Bang. Bang. Bang. I jumped up. Someone was at my door.


My Entry (story continued):

Who could be at the door this early in the morning? Maybe I'm imagining things. Between the dreams and lack of sleep I hadn't been able to function well. It was to the point where I felt almost afraid to try shaving because a razor to the neck on little sleep would not be a good plan. Struggling through the still dark rooms of my house, I almost ran into the front door before I find the handle and pulled it open.

On the other side, standing under the front light is Nathan. His brown hair is disheveled and he doesn't look like he shaved this morning but other than that he looks good. Plus, in one hand is a to go carrier of coffee and the other has a bag that I can only guess contains donuts. He looks happy to see me.

"Nate," was all I could think to say.

"Hey," He shifted his weight with his attention still on me. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah. Come in." I flipped on the switch to the living room before opening the door wider so that he could come in. Since he's been to my house before, he heads straight to the kitchen. Instead of following, I watched him as he made his way through the room, deep in thought. As nice as it was to see him, there could only be one topic he would have and I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about that night. But it was better than sleeping.


Your turn.


Christine Danek said...

I like where this is headed. Thanks for participating. I'll let the others continue since I'm the one who started it.
Great Job!

Tessa Conte said...

I'm really liking this!!! So why would Nate turn up so early? With a peace offering of coffee & donuts? Colour me intrigued....

Anonymous said...

What does he want to talk about? Really good beginning!

Dawn Embers said...

Thanks everyone for the responses. I'm glad it was at least liked. :-)


I write like
Arthur Conan Doyle

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I write like
Mark Twain

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!