Session: August 25, 2012

"Describe an elegant hotel room from the point of view of a character who is on the verge (about a day or so away) of a psychotic breakdown."

By AD

I finally arrived at my hotel after the most stressful business trip. On my plane flight to London the plane crashed in the middle of nowhere in Wales. After hiking for 3 days I found a boat heading to London. About five miles off the coast the boat hit a rock and sunk, so I had to swim in the middle of winter in shark infested waters. After my relaxing swim in below freezing water I arrived at my meeting. It turns out my meeting was for next month. They called my phone which was found by some guy named McDunken. I hope he enjoys the unlimited text and internet and that it solar charges. I arrived at my hotel room elegantly decorated with an artfully made chandelier and purple wallpaper and furniture. There was a piano in the corner that I sat by feeling like I was going to lose my mind. Life is stressful when you are an armchair.

"I knew it was important, but I forgot anyway."

 By G.S.

Halfway across the beach the chair came to a halt so I tried to understand what was really happening. The magic mushroom I had eaten earlier must have been responsible. With no visible means of propulsion, the chair had carried me through thick sand faster than I could walk. What am I going to tell people? I had to remember what had happened earlier, before I met the chair. I knew it was important, but I forgot anyway!

"Write a brief scene that incorporates the following: a girl named Florinetta; a dog with three legs; a swing; a porch; boiled celery; the air smelling of autumn."

By PV

There really should be a mirror, or I guess the pond would give me an idea what I have got into this time. Auntie would say this was the catastrophe I should have expected with all my adventurous wool gathering.  There I was, tugging a piece of boiled celery caught in my teeth when I fell out of my porch swing, hollering at Eustace as he lifted his leg to spray mama's daisies. And so I knocked my self out to find myself looking down at my hooves, hoping there was still some green grass amidst the autumn debris. Oh, Florinetta, you have really done it this time. I wonder if my eyes are brown?

"Not Again!"

 By CC

Blast, cried Marnie. Not again! Weezus and Boofhead were crammed willy-nilly into the goldfish bowl, waiting with pitiful patience for John to come home with the sausage roll he always pretended was a control unit for Cat Transformation. Every time he pretended to dial up Angora or Siamese, they sat quietly, trusting it would happen: Suddenly the long fur, the exotic eyes. Of course it never did, but the stupid cats never got it. Marnie stomped over to the bowl and said, You're never going to change! Get over it! Weezus looked up at her with inscrutable poise.