Of recent I have been engaging in the world of bloggers, they come in various attitudes, diaries, and commentators. From the average homemakers, to engineers, to programmers, political bloggers/activists, or salesman, and yes, even the “real world” news has breached the Internet community.
This community is vast and somewhat intimidating. Yet, I added my voice, almost a year ago, with my musings in political thoughts; and, a tools for research for those who wanted it. I have built this website little by little, learning the programming code of a website, all the while going to school, and working.
Last month I discovered an online site known as Blogexplosion.com, it is for those who wish to have their web-logs be heard in the tocsins of the Internet follies and aides in providing tools and access to multiple sites. It also has a chat room, where bloggers can exchange codes, tools, and even build friendships with people of common interests.
One of the most fascinating aspect of this chat room, and I would guess with any, since this is my first participating in one, is the binding ties that are built. One such way to do so is to tell a story together—and on this page—One Paradise View—you will witness this event as it transpires. Here are the rules of the game enjoy, I have added part three below….
This was an idea a blog buddy came up with & I thought it was a blast! I did my part now its up to everyone else to do theirs! Here is HIS original post:
3/20/2006
The Big, Bad Short Story Challenge - Part 2
The Big, Bad Short Story Challenge is back!I’ve posted a couple of paragraphs of a new short story that I have started, and ask that volunteers finish it. Here’s the way it works:
1) I post my couple of paragraphs.
2) Volunteer No. 1 puts the next couple of paragraphs on his blog, and leaves a link in the comments of this post.
3) After the link is posted in the comments, I will edit my blog and post it here.
4) Volunteer No. 2 follows the link to the next blog and picks up where Volunteer No. 1 left off.
5) This continues until the story is finished.
EDIT: I’ve tagged SamRyan at Just a Girl
While you’re there, be sure to check out her poetry and writing.
Cheers!
The Dig
Dusty Chambers looked up from his work just in time to witness the last sliver of the deep red sun disappearing into the horizon. As if on cue, the quartz halogen lights set up around the excavation site came to life, illuminating his find once more. The buzz that the lamps emitted bothered him no more than the cold that swept in to replace the sun’s fading warmth. Dusty had been digging all day, patiently scouring away striated layers of packed dirt. He had worked through lunch, such was his concentration on the task.
Over the course of the past few weeks, Dusty and his crew of archaeologists had meticulously uncovered what they had thought would be a Native American village, but instead had been rewarded with something completely different. The entire top floor of a steel building now lay exposed to the elements. Dusty had earlier walked the perimeter of the structure, expecting to find a broken window through which he could enter, but found none. Intrigued, he researched the coordinates of his find, hoping to discover the nature of what had once been located here. Finding no information on the building, he continued the dig, wondering what circumstances would bury a building without raising reports of its disappearance.
posted by Dale N. Allen | 12:58 PM
2 Comments:
AnthonyLemons said…
Great writing, keep it up.
8:23 AM
Jean -AKA- SamRyan said…
There was a definitive aura about the top of the structure, something almost seemed to be drawing him in. As if some force just under the surface were calling to him, beckoning him to its hidden secrets. he felt that once under its skin he would find answers to questions he hadn’t yet pondered. There was definately something compelling about this discovery aside even from its odd location & mysterious circumstances. What was this place? How did it get here? It seemed almost otherworldly and he wasn’t even sure what that really meant. All Dusty knew was that he was must uncover its tale and he must be the first to enter this thing which had no business being here in the first place.Lost in his own musings, he thought he heard tiny clicking sounds emanating from a hollow sounding place just along the western edge of the semi-buried structure. It sounded so faint as to almost be missed but he was certain that something or someone had made those sounds from within. He started towards the sound just as it seemed to stop. He yelled for the other workers to cease all activity and then he stood as a statue and strained to hear any trace,……..
10:44 AM
And so now,…I leave it to you! I will update this page as each new entry appears,…Lets make a book people! C’mon,….Whatcha waitin’ for? Just see Dale -AKA- Biognome over at: Galaxies, Universes, and Things That Spin Leave your bit & I will also publish it here on permanent display with your link for all the world to see! Here is the direct link for the post at his place: (just leave your piece there, as the bits come in, I’ll add them here!) (image placeholder)
Entry Part 3 by Greg Stewart
Dusty waited for the others to silence the noise of the dig. Standing tall, his strong features shone the years of wear and tear, graying around the temples, and he had a goatee chalked with white, with dark ebony eyes protruding from the inset of the skull of his face, he squinted in the glaring light of the day.
He looked down at his feet at the equipment that he had brought with him earlier, the canvas green bag, had been with him through his many travels. Now he knelt down, while straining to hear the rhythmic clicking coming from within the building.
He pulled out his Geiger counter, a spectrometer, and he sat them down on the bluish-green sand next to his feet, and finally found what he was feeling for, the portable sonar device. It fit smoothly into his palm, allowing him to cup it, and he flipped the jointed cover open with the other as he began to punch the buttons on his miniaturized device.
He thought quietly to himself; yes, it had been nearly three hundred years since the invention of sonar—and the equipment once filled entire rooms. Now, in the twenty third century, finally being able to stand at this place, looking into what seemed to be familiar sky, Dusty had wondered what had went wrong.
The birth place of humanity had been traced back to this very spot, and although, there had never been a report of this site, in any historical records; this type of development was becoming a regular event.
For after the migration to the stars, humanity was now……
Posted in Imported |
Commentators: none yet
Posted at 7:56 AM
Biognome posted at 5:29 AM
Good job! Thanks, Greg.
I'll post a link to this from the original post.
cjd posted at 8:08 AM
the post on my blog:
The Big, Bad Short Story Challenge Part 4
... his train of thought ceased as he read the information displayed on the sonar.
"There's a large space behind this wall. Make an entrance for us please!" Dusty shouted to the workers.
It took them half an hour to make a hole on the wall. Dusty formed a group of eight people including himself. Armed with flashlight and ropes the team entered.
Dusty looked around and he could see the smooth square stones formed the wall and the floor. They are in a square room about the size of American Football field. Their flashlight couldn't see the other end of the room. Dusty noticed that there are images carved on the wall. He went closer to the wall and trying to make sense of the images.
The images have certain similarity to the images carved on the Mayan temples in South America.
"We need to bring in an expert to interpret these," Dusty thought. He scan through the images and he stopped at this one particular image. He saw this image from his books.
"Danger!" he thought. He quickly turned to his workers and shouted "Nobody move!" One of the workers however had stepped on something. They heard a click. The next thing Dusty knew his co-worker's head was rolling to his feet. The other workers stopped dead in their tracks and looked at the headless body on the floor.
"Everybody back up slowly. Back to the entrance. Out. Let's go!" shouted Dusty. The workers did what Dusty said. Once they were all out Dusty was the last one to move.
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Biognome posted at 5:29 AM
