I don’t know how they did it – I struggled to keep hold of the threads in chapter 10 already and it finished with 26 – but somehow a bunch of people from different parts of the world managed to write a story together. A digital story.
Here we all are. You can click on the circles on our faces (on the Thinglink) to read our chapters:
The final chapter is hilarious. I don’t think you could actually keep a straight face for too long while writing this story; it just becomes more and more absurd. The story is a long and winding one (yes, with Beatles references) so this summary might help.
I love that we come from such different places and come together for this bit of creative fun.
The first thing she saw was his puzzled expression. Then her eyes traced the fine lashes on his face and down his straight nose to his mouth which was partly open – she guessed from shock – the shock she tried to suppress as she struggled to make sense of their physical closeness in unknown surroundings. What the…!? In her peripheral vision she guessed they were in a deserted street and it was dusk. Or was it dawn? Nobody in sight. A car parked a little way down the road.
And then she let her eyes follow his arm down to his hand which was clutching a map. And she? She was still holding the map she had been turning over at home, scrutinising. And between her fingers… what? Sand?
Image courtesy of the Lewis Lab at Northeastern University. Image created by Anthony D’Onofrio, William H. Fowle, Eric J. Stewart and Kim Lewis. (See Anthony D’Onofrio on Flickr)
“Where the hell are we?” he broke the silence and her mental musing.
“I..I…I think – I know it sounds crazy – but I think it’s the maps,” she managed to splutter, blushing a little as he came to life, and unnerved now by their physical closeness.
They both turned in the direction of the sudden sound of a car screeching towards them.
“Sarah?” he said, as she jumped out of the car. “What the hell is going on here?!”
“Get in!” Sarah grabbed Kevin’s arm and pushed him into the car. “Time’s running out! Get in! Hurry up!”
She had no time to lose. No time to think, she swung open the back door of the car as it started moving and flung herself into the back seat, the car accelerating at an unnerving speed. She knew, somehow, that she had to hold onto the map.
It was difficult to describe what happened next. The scenery flew past them too quickly; it wasn’t normal. Physically she felt squeezed, she felt as if all her organs were compressed, she could barely breathe. And all the time that dreadful shrieking – not just in the ears but everywhere. Stop it, stop it! Unbearable. And then she realised it was she who was shrieking.
“Shut up!” screamed Sarah, “what are you doing here? It’s too late; you have to come with us now” as the car came to a sudden stop and she banged her head against the seat in front of her. The seat of the boat she was now in. In the middle of a vast, icy lake. Under a white sky.
“What the hell are you playing at!” Sarah’s face too close to hers.
*The initial motif of Beethoven’s 5th symphony has sometimes been credited with symbolic significance as a representation of Fate knocking at the door