So there hasn't been a lot of posting going on as of late. I feel that this is due to an overabundance of things going on in our lives, which is just fine. I have noticed that, at least for me, one reason I have not posed anything is because I feel that I don't have time to post a well thought out blog. So here is what I propose. I will write the first part of a story, then each of the blog members will add too this story. There aren't any limits to this story just write anything you want! This way no one has to think to hard you can just write for fun! So here we go...
Part 1
If you were to walk into his house the first thing you would notice is that it looks like nothing has changed in at least 20 years. Dark brown paneling surrounds the lower half of the walls which accents the yellow and orange fuzzy flower wall paper that his wife made him put up so many years ago. He told me one time of how much he hated that wall paper. When I asked him why he put it up he just said with a chuckle, “that woman could talk me into doing just about anything.” The carpet in the room was a lighter brown then the paneling and gave the room an even darker gloomy feel. One complete wall in the living room was covered floor to ceiling in large built-in book shelve that was filled with just about any book you could ever dream of. Talking to him you could easily tell that he had read all of them a multitude of times. Even after all these years you can still ask him about any book on the shelf and he could tell you anything you wanted to know. There are two over sized chairs and a large sofa they got as a wedding present in the middle of the room. Spending money was something neither of them liked to do, and well, I guess some things never change.
It was a wet October day. The rain had just let up a little when he heard car doors. He peaked out the window and saw a large black car sitting out front. Just as he saw the car he heard a knocking on the door...
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For no apparent reason his heart leapt within his chest. Not just anyone would dare to battle the deep turns and wide slopes that led up to the steep drive where this dark Cadillac now found its rest. Before he even cracked open the door, he could smell her. Her cheap rose and daisy perfume saturated the air and fried his nose hairs. And there she was, just like he remembered her, with her crazy black curls falling in front of her solitary blue gray eyes. She wore a vibrant, slinky purple gown that flowed well below her feet, not to be discredited by the gaudy gold jewelry that hung from her neck, ears and wrist. She was a small waif of a young woman, barely five feet, with a feather plume that stuck nearly a foot out her hair,and slumped to the side, its red color faded and dingy.
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