Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Three: Arrival

     The train pulled smoothly into the the last station on its route.  When the doors opened a blast of freezing air hit the lone passenger.  She peered out the door hoping to see someone waiting for her, but there was no one. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her case and stepped off of the train.  She had been told to wear warm clothes, but even her parka seemed to do little to hold off the cold.
     The station looked warm and brightly lit, so she trudged toward it through a swirl of snow.  Once inside she found herself alone.  Glancing at the clock above the ticket vendor she realized that she had in fact arrived several minutes early.  No need to panic yet.  She took a seat facing the entrance to wait for her promised ride.
     Outside the wind picked up and the snow started falling  in earnest, and it was only September.
      What happens next?  Please use the comment section to add to the story.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Two: The Waiting Room

     The waiting room was dull, as if deliberately designed to ensure maximum boredom.  Only one person occupied the room at a time.  Despite this, there were several different chairs from which to choose.  Although choose is probably not an entirely accurate description, since the chairs were in fact identical.  All of them were slightly uncomfortable, not so much as to distract, but just enough to not allow the sitter to completely relax.   The view from each of the chairs was essentially the same .
    From ceiling to floor the entire room consisted of shades of beige, so close in tone that they might be read as the same without close inspection.  The decorator failed to take into account textures as everything was flat without the benefit of any light reflection at all.  From  the featureless carpet to the bland ceiling the waiting room was one sad sweep of beige.  Even the ceiling failed to hold one's interest, with no distracting ceiling tiles to count.
     There was a coffee table, but without magazines, even outdated ones to read.  The table had no interesting coffee stains to interpret, no dust to write secret messages on,  nor sharp edges  to finger.  It sat far enough away from the chairs so as to be useless for resting feet.  But not far enough away to create space for pacing around.
      What happens next?  Please use the comment section to add to the story.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Starter Number One: Oxygen Leak

     Why does it always seem that just before things go horribly wrong there is a brief moment of recognition but by then it is just too late to do anything about it?
     "Yes, Yes, I know the oxygen is getting low, but that siren is not helping me think,"  she shouted to the computer.
     The computer did, of course, not answer.  The newer more sophisticated models were equipped with voice response, but that really was just overpriced bells and whistles.  Such a computer would not have detected the oxygen leak any sooner, nor would it have been able to come up with any solutions.  After all that was why people were needed to run the ships, to solve  unexpected problems.  Sure a computer could run basic systems, and navigate, but it couldn't wrap tape around a faulty wire, or tie down cargo that shifted during a rough take off.
     It had started as a tiny leak in the rear cargo bay.  Something that required her attention, but these thing happen, and it certainly was not life threatening, at first.
      What happens next?  Please use the comment section to add to the story.

A New Idea: Story Starters

I have come up with a new idea, for me at least.  I am pretty good at thinking up scenes, or vignettes, or I am not sure what  - story starters maybe, but not really very good at writing the rest of the story.  So I thought I would write them up here and then other people could use them.  Maybe someone out there can finish the story, or start the story, or even just add to the story. 

So if anyone is interested, or even actually reads this I suppose there should be some rules.  Please no pornography! I do not want to be embarrassed.  If someone decides to take something to use somewhere else, like a short story for class, please do not pretend that you came up with the idea all by your self, that is called plagiarism, and it is very bad.  Feel free to take my ideas and use them in exciting new ways, but mention Nailgun somewhere, perhaps in the introduction of your best seller.