Call me Ishmael.
This is a sample for the beginning of a (pretty lame) story based on the most famous first sentence in American literature:

Call me Ishmael.


Call me Joe or Sue. Call me Ray. Call me Jay. Call me Omar, Nobu, Kwame, or Sven.

Call me The One. The Only. Call me Calamity. Call me Sprouting Alike In Broad Zones And Narrow Zones.

Just don't call me ...

Oh, never mind. I'm far from home, up here on a branch of -- is it an elm tree? No, it must be an oak because I'm whipped by a wild white wind and shivering my bloody bones to smithereens up here in the deadly winter, and I'm shushed all over by the rustling dead dryness of leaves that didn't know enough to let go back some months ago ... and just fall. It's oak, for sure.

"Shut up, yourselves, old paper breath," I mutter. "Time to make like a leaf ... and turn, tumble, burn and hush your own dead selves."

So, how did I end up here, high in the frigid branches of an old oak tree? Well, it's not my fault.

Well, this is the beginning of my version of something. Put yours below the line. - brtom brtom




















This page was most recently revised by brtom on Dec 2, 2007 12:07 pm