Since I have yet to post, I thought I'd kick things off with a Jo-inspired interactive. Everyone add a sentence or two or up to a paragraph at their leisure and we'll see where the story takes us.
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Running down the muddy, rutted dirt road at full speed, Abigail desperately tried to keep her one-size-too-large boots from slipping off of her feet.
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The boots were very ugly, and she hated them because everyone made fun of them, but they would protect her very nicely from the rabid cat who was chasing her if only she could keep them on.
Oh, if only she hadn’t eaten so much popcorn. Her mother had told her time and time again that her popcorn addiction would be a problem someday, and today was that day. If only she hadn’t stuffed herself with an entire 2-qt. bowl of popcorn, (drizzled with a generous amount of melted butter, and heavily salted) she would surely have been able to outrun the rabid cat.
Clutching her overfilled midsection, she darted off of the road hoping to loose the foaming feline in a mad dash through the underbrush.
As one of her boots slipped off yet again, she had a thought. She grabbed the boot and threw it at the rabid cat. She knew her mother would be very angry, but she had to get away from this infected animal!
Abigail hurled the boot at the cat. With an anguished yowl, it went sulking away. She picked up the boot, smoothed her hair and her clothes, and started back up the road to home and dinner.
She had kept her hated boots to avoid her mother's wrath, and she had escaped the rabid cat. Now she would just need to choke down enough dinner to avoid suspicion about her popcorn habit. She was feeling pretty complacent until she suddenly remembered why she had been running down the road in the first place.
She had to tell her mother (who in addition to being an anti-popcorn activist, also freelanced as a midwife)that Mrs. Yorgason was having contractions and needed her to come right away.
Darn that rabid cat, it had totally distracted her! Now she had to make up for lost time.
It was essential that she tell her mother as soon as possible about Mrs. Yorgason's impending delivery. Mrs. Yorgason, a highly efficient and somewhat intimidating woman, would not tolerate lateness, especially now. She was already the mother of six (3 sets of twins, of course, to save time and effort) and this delivery would likely be no different than the last three, timed carefully to take place a few hours after dinner so as not to conflict with her family's rigid schedule.
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