I am going to write a short paragraph, just giving us our first character and a starting point. Then, I will let it sit here for a day or so. I want you… all of you… to write the next paragraph and move the story along. Just leave it as a comment.
Then, I will pick the one I like best and add it to mine… and repost it all as part two… and we will start the process over again.
I know, I have done this before… I tried it with a horror story, and a science fiction story… and we did some poems… and there was the time where I tried to get you all to tag-team write the world’s first Western/action/adventure/historical epic/science fiction/comedy Porno movie script… which may be one of those ideas that I didn’t really think through…
Come on, people, this can be fun… And we can all help pick a title as we see where the story starts to take us…
And now, here it is, the beginning of a fascinating experiment in group writing:
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My name is Rufus Jones, and today, I am being released into the wild… from the state-run orphanage. I have a backpack, but there isn’t a lot in it. A few changes of clothes, a couple used books, and the one thing that my mother left with me… on the sidewalk in front of a fire station when I was just a few days old… a raggedy blue stuffed rabbit. I am not too tall but I am not really short either. My hair is also neither short nor long, and is a rather nondescript brown in color. I mean, there really isn’t anything at all remotely unusual about me… except for the fact that I can sometimes tell what is going to happen before it does.
Pouring My Art Out 
I can’t compete with the submitted entries. The operative word is sometimes…how often is sometimes? Is it a sporadic sometimes or an almost always sometimes?
well, that is for you to decide… we don’t have a winner yet…
I knew before I closed the taxi door the driver was going to take the scenic route, it didn’t matter I wasn’t paying, it was the final act of my care, taxi provided to drop me off at the office of the social worker. I had only met her once the problem I face now was I know what our next meeting would bring, I knew the scene that would await me as I opened her office door, and knowing it did not mean I could change it. There would be blood, so much blood, and I would run.
well that is moving the story along… sweet
The front doors to the orphanage open and here I go. Mr. Jonas has called me a cab.
“Where are you thinking of going?” he asks.
“To a ballgame,” I tell him. “Then to an ice cream shop. And a movie.” Before he can say anything, I tell him, “I know, I know, I don’t have the money for those things. But it’ll work out.”
For a moment, he looks like he’s going to hug me, but instead he sticks a laminated card with his contact details in my hand: it’s my emergency card, in case anything happens to me and someone needs to contact a person that had known me. It’s not the most comforting thing in the world.
“It’s going to work out,” I say in the back seat of the cab, as we pull away. Money’s nothing, and I’m free. And besides, I can tell what’s going to happen before it does.
Psssst, comes a voice.
I look down at my stuffed rabbit. He’s staring at me, eyes wide, and motions me to lean closer.
I got a tip for you, says the rabbit. About half an hour from now, something’s going to happen… something wonderful.
The cabbie gives the car gas. Like I said, it’s going to work out.
oooooooohhhhhhh
Yeah…
yup
Love a talking stuffed blue rabbit.
yeah… I liked that part…
Yes, those are the best kinds of rabbits. Other than the ones you eat, you know, after they mouth off at you.
tasty talking rabbits…
I’m snacking on one right now.
or schmacking on one? HA!
Damn!
i’m in…..
in it to win it…