Automatic writing - the game!

Blush_01

Hi all,

I've sort of borrowed this idea from a site I found via StumbleUpon, and I think it might be a bit of fun, so I hope everyone will take part and have a bit of a laugh.

Ok, so the basic idea is as follows:

The first person posts a word.
The second person writes about that word for 1-2 minutes (no more, it should only be a few lines). They also post a new word.
The third person takes the new word from person 2, and writes about that for 1-2 minutes, and posts a new word also, and so on.

Lets start with: Persuasion

nervous_twitch

Persuasion; the art; the tact it takes to convince. I was never too sure of my own voice, and thus couldn't command change. They listened only to the careful elocution of my hesitations. This, unfortunately, rendered me a flaccid conductor. Who could bear to draw instruction from such flickered speech? I tried, in other ways, to change their minds, but without the foundations of a bold articulation, my efforts were in vain.

They couldn't be advised.


My word : Silhouette

smcgiff

Their silhouette darkened the taut canvass of my tent, all too familiar yet made more grotesque by the wavering oil lamp. I had not covered my tracks sufficiently, no time to regret it now. I placed an unfinished novel on my lap and closed my eyes. My deeds in India were about to be paid for.


My word: Signature

Smartly Dressed

As a child, it always fascinated me when I saw my father scribble his indiscernible signature. How could something so practiced look so awful? As I grew older and watched more people write their signature, I learned that the ugly scribble style was not unique to my father and although I keep practicing, I still can't emulate it.

(Am I doin' it right?)

My word: Paradox

cobsie

"H-O-T-T-O-G-O!!"

Shannon Mayevski looks daggers at me. I face forward and rustle my pompoms. The noise of the crowd is freaky. I can hear people yelling for the quarterback, grown men screaming his name Tyler! Tyler! and banging on the hoarding that advertises the Maine Margarine Company. I'm one of the Maine Marge girls, dressed in buttercup yellow, freezing my ass off on the twenty-five yard line.

"Say woo!! Hot to go!"

We jump 180 and shake our poms behind our backs. Shannon digs my arm viciously with her nails as we spin. Her nails are acrylic and super hard. They tear white contrails across my forearm but she's not quite close enough to draw blood.

"Say woo!! Hot to go!"

We raise our arms up-up-up. We bare our teeth. We make our eyes shine. The team jogs out and the PA blasts Eye of the Tiger. We hold, hold, hold, like we've been trained to, shaking those poms till our muscles are burning, until the team takes a knee. In unison, we release. Shannon Mayevski windmills her arm against my head, smacking my ear with her wristwatch, and we level off, panting, arms linked, leading the cheer.

***

My word: sublime