I was at the office today, when a bored friend of mine sent me a paragraph she'd written and wanted me to continue the story. We went back and forth a few times in the afternoon, and this is what we came up with. Want to join in?<\/p>\n
Edit: Hyde_grrl is in red, I'm in blue:<\/p>\n
“So there I was, alone and desperate in the world, in this office. Its … I round-filed the manuscript without even a backward glance. So here I was, pushing 30, spending most of my waking hours sitting in I pried my desk drawer open and ruffled through the half empty bottles of Using my trusty nail file I carefully inserted the slim end into the lock on Careful….Careful….*click* Not a scratch! The desk drawer slid open. “And A desk drawer can reveal a lot about a person (go ahead, look in yours). Anyway, back to the task at hand. He'd be back from lunch soon, and it was So, the drawer. Office supplies, all neatly organized, some loose change. Nothing too I was at the office today, when a bored friend of mine sent me a paragraph she'd written and wanted me to continue the story. We went back and forth a few times in the afternoon, and this is what we came up with. Want to join in? Edit: Hyde_grrl is in red, I'm in…<\/p>\n
\nbare walls and yellow light made its sole occupant breath heavy like a
\nclaustrophobic rat trapped in some rat sized elevator stuck between
\nfloors. Only there was no elevator music, just the hum of 3 bad Compaq
\nEvo's and the voice of a calm mad man. Maniacal mad man. Was he sent
\nhere to kill me? One answer came to mind, over and over: I'm too pretty
\nfor this. I'm too pretty for this. I'm too *hack*…The mad man WAS
\nsent here to kill me. “Oh look, there I am”. There I was.”<\/font><\/p>\n
\nSwoosh. At least this one was typed on an honest to goodness
\ntypewriter. As an entry-level copy editor, I'd seen my share of weird
\nsubmissions. My favourite to date was the one written in cherry-scented
\ncrayola crayon. I still had it tucked in a file somewhere. I took it
\nout once in a while when I needed a good laugh.<\/p>\n
\na chair that made my back hurt, in front of a coffee-stained desk that
\nwas groaning under the weight of the dreams of others. My job? To crush
\nthose dreams, in most cases. I'm the first hurdle towards publication.
\nI'm the bastard that passes judgment on the first book you dare to
\nsend; the novel that's going to be your big break. Or not. It's a dirty
\njob, but somebody needs to do it.<\/font><\/p>\n
\nhand cream, chocolate bar wrappers and cigarette butts to find my nail file.
\n“Good grief, is this where I left that sandwich?” I thought as I picked out
\nthe pink nail file amongst the clutter, took a deep breath and leaned back.
\nA good nail file is hard to find. A good nail file could save your life.
\nSure, it could pick desk drawer locks or act as a weapon to gouge out the
\njudging eyes of my boss. A good policy is to keep a nail file in your desk
\ndrawer, just in case of emergency. A sandwich however, is something you
\nshould never keep there. I picked the questionable item up between two
\nmanicured fingers and ever so gently carried it over to my colleague's desk.
\nHe'll eat it. James will eat anything.<\/p>\n
\nJames' top drawer. Careful not to scratch the surface. <\/p>\n
\nwhat have we here?” …<\/font><\/p>\n
\nI hadn't known James all that long, except to pick up on a few about his more
\noriginal eating habits, chief among them the fact that he ate everything with
\nchopsticks and the fact that he'd never found a meal he didn't like. He was a
\nbottomless pit, but you couldn't fathom it by looking at him. The bastard. Ever
\nsince he moved into my office, it was getting really hard to concentrate on
\ntrashing…ahem… evaluating the manuscipts. He was nice eye candy, and
\ndamn it, he smelled good too.<\/p>\n
\ntoo tempting an occasion not to snoop around a bit. Oh don't look at me like
\nthat, you've all done it at one time or another. Like the glove compartment in
\nyour friend's car when they went to pay for gas, or the medicine cabinet when
\nyou needed to use the facilities at a party. He was a nice little mystery, and
\nshow me a mystery that doesn't beg to be solved. He'd transferred in from
\nthe London office about two months ago, and the office grape vine was still
\nbarren on the topic. <\/p>\n
\nexciting. A digital watch on a sports band… must be for when he hits the
\ngym after work. Toothpaste, toothbrush and dental floss… geez, what a boy
\nscout. Oooh, paydirt. This is interesting. I wonder who the blonde in the
\npicture is. She's cute. A girlfriend, maybe? Nice sailboat though.<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"