Storytelling Final

[grand-fallguy.livejournal.com]

Tim looked like he was recovering from a fight or something, but seemed to be in a good mood. The bruise was healing and he was pretty sure he'd be able to take the wrapping from his wrist soon.

"Okay, so, your storytelling final, is unsurprisingly I'm sure, to tell a story. Any kind of story really. So, who wants to go first?"

[I fail UTTERLY. I got so wrapped up in rebuilding my computer and bookmarks and logins and stuff that I completely forgot to post this. It's very hard to administer the seven cuts of shame and type at the same time. ETA: Please hold for OCD.]

Comments

Tell Your Story

[grand-fallguy.livejournal.com]

It could be a folk tale, a song, a ghost story, a fish story, or any kind really. Just, try not to take up all of the class time.

Re: Tell Your Story

[inthereflexes.livejournal.com]

Jack told a rambling story about a trip with his dad around the country in the big rig, picking up random loads and hauling them across the country, with lots and lots of details.

"And that's how we delivered a full load of chickens and a case of Boston Clam Chowder to Texas."

Re: Tell Your Story

[17andinfected.livejournal.com]

Shilo cleared her throat and began telling a ghost story: A girl married a sailor, who had to leave shortly after to return to his ship. He promised to be back in a year's time. A few months later, she found herself carrying his child- oh the joy, she decided, that he would feel, to come home to a son or daughter! But the baby fell sick and died a few weeks after it was born. The girl fell into a deep depression, but counted the day until her husband would return. On the anniversary of his departure, she went up to the looking room, and lit candles in the windows. She did this every night, for three months, until word arrived that her husband's ship had been destroyed in a storm, and all souls aboard were assumed lost. The girl hung herself in the looking room that night.

"And now, every night, you can see the candles burning in the windows, though the house is deserted," Shilo said, her voice low, "and on the anniversary of her death you can see her swinging from the rafters."

Re: Tell Your Story

[grand-fallguy.livejournal.com]

"Oooh," Tim said softly, shivering delightfully. "That's a good one."