This is part 15 of a storyjumper for Digital Writing Month. You can read the other parts here:
Part 1 Bruno’s blog started us off with a personal narrative.
Part 2 Kevin’s blog began the story.
Part 3 Maha’s blog continued…
Part 4 Sarah’s blog…
Part 5 Ron’s blog…
Part 6 Tanya’s blog…
Part 7 Kay’s blog…
Part 8 Ron’s blog…
Part 9 Dana’s blog
Part 10 Tania’s blog
Part 11 Maureen’s blog
Part 12 Sue’s blog
Part 13 Rhonda’s blog
Part 14 Yin Wah Kreher’s blog
Part 15 Scott’s blog
The Henchman spun slowly away below as the lady-next-door rose up to carry Kevin through the constellations she knew so well from a childhood of gazing through the lens of her kaleidoscopic telescope. Fragments of potential stirred in her mind forming and unforming patterns as northward the whole previous state of the universe, less Henchman, moved turning the Merelion’s vaporous spout into a shower of ice to land SMACK into the welcoming goblet of Sarah’s virgin Piña Colada as she pitchforked a rowdy shanty ’round the Titanic’s lurching deck plates whistling the half-remembered tune to “The Whistling Macaques of the Oronoco Still Call Me Thus” (a childhood skipping song of mixed repute).
So here we have a mess. Characters have gone missing into the wings and we have these curious map jumpers that won’t stay put. Worse, we have a crisis of structure where the tour bus seems to be overturned and obscured by a fuzzy shrubbery of peril that won’t resolve.
It could be that damn map? The dead dog? Machine-Gun Sandy and the bullet pocked ceiling?
We started with arrows and implied directions. And we’ve been here and there to prove it. But does anyone remember if Kevin ever fixed the Ukulele? Shure, he’s been bashed around and romantically involved way too much yet we can’t just wander around here in this story forever. The boat is sinking and he’s dreaming about something that’s hard to know from a place without sense.
On to Jeffrey Keefer