I would like to invite those of you who are interested to participate in another collaborative writing project. Those of you who generously participated in the previous projects know that we are experimenting with different ways of doing this, so that the rules become more clear and people’s creativity is not repressed. Responding to requests from our last project, this time our story-writing will be in English. Thanks to Divaneh and Multiple Personality Disorder for their suggestions, the rules are as follow:
1. I begin the story with 280 words, and the ending part will also be 280 words. Each person is allowed to add no more and no less than 140 words in their contribution. If you are mid-sentence when you run out of 140 words, please stop mid-sentence and the next person will pick up where you left off.
2. The story should not be more than approximately 4,000 words in total, so at around 3,000 words, I will remind all to start leading the story towards an ending.
3. Please read the earlier contributions carefully and remember the details already introduced. Please do not contradict earlier facts.
4. Drastic and unreasonable changes of storyline are not allowed. Contributions that create disruptions to the storyline will be disallowed. If there are two immediate objections to an entry, the entry will be ignored.
5. Whilst good humor could enrich the story, making a joke of the whole story should be avoided.
Here’s the opening part of the story:
Sanam thought she could not walk one more step. The snow had picked up a vicious pace, and the crazy wind which kept shifting directions was now spraying huge snowflakes from every which direction all over her face and body. Her boots were soaking wet; her hands were frozen around the handles of her suitcase and duffel bag; and her vision was blurred by a combination of the blizzard, fatigue, and hopelessness.
She heard the muffled sound of an approaching car before turning around to see its dim lights coming towards her. She turned around and gathered all her might to drop her suitcase and duffel bag to the ground, making a big hand signal for the car to stop. She screamed, “STOP, PLEASE!” The car stopped. Through the windshield, she saw the driver signal “come on” to her. On any other day, Sanam would have felt apprehension at the thought of getting into a stranger’s car. Today, she did not waste any time. She opened the back door, dropped her suitcase and duffel bag on the back seat, closed the door, and jumped in the passenger seat, slamming the door. The warmth inside the car immediately started its comforting magic on Sanam. She looked at the driver, a handsome man about 40, who seemed perplexed, but wasn’t saying anything. Sanam asked: “Could you take me to the next town?” It took only seconds for her words to register with the man, who said in a familiar and excited way “khanoom, shoma irooni hasteed?” (Ma’am, are you Iranian?) Sanam could barely control the muscles in her face to muster a smile or utter any words. She passed out trying.
