Just for Fun: Let’s Write a Story

Today, let’s write a story together. It doesn’t have to be fancy or perfect, let’s just have fun with it.  Each of us can add a comment with a few sentences to keep the story building. Come back throughout the day to add more!

 

Here is an opening:

 

The hotel had been closed for renovations for nearly a year before Steven bought it from the old owners.  Over several weeks he and his crew worked from room to room, putting finishing touches on them in preparation for the grand reopening. As the big day approached, his phone rang.  “Yeah, boss,” said the foreman on the other end of the line, “you’d better get up here.  We’ve got a little problem.”

Now it’s your turn: continue the story in the comments!

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11 thoughts on “Just for Fun: Let’s Write a Story

  1. Steven arrived to find the work crew standing outside room 413. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

    “We can’t get this door unlocked,” said the foreman. “The master key doesn’t work… it’s a different lock.”

    “Why on earth would one room have a different lock?” Steven asked, taking the master key from him and sticking it in the lock as if he would have better luck getting the lock to turn. “Seriously, that makes no sense at all.”

    “I don’t know,” said the foreman, “but it gets stranger still… Look at the building’s floor plan. This room doesn’t exist. There is no room 413 on here.”

  2. “Well, what does the floor plan say IS there, Rosie?” asked Steven, putting on his reading glasses. “I mean, we’re clearly standing in front of something.”

    The foreman shuffled her feet. “Boss, see for yourself. According to the plan, we should be in the garden.”

    Steven grabbed the blueprints from her and poured over them. Rosie was right. Where they were standing was labeled “fountain” on the worn paper.

    “Are you telling me that somehow, in THIS town, an entire addition was built with no oversight?”

    “Looks like,” said Rosie. “Now what do we do?”

    “Looks like I’ll be making a trip to Hell,” Steven said. He took off his glasses and fished his keys out of his pocket. “If I’m not back from the building inspector’s office by Tuesday, call out the National Guard.”

  3. Rosie watched as the others left and walked down the hallway. She was reminded that as a child her parents usually left a key to a door they kept locked on the top of the molding around the door. She reached up, standing on her tip toes, and sure enough found a key. Breathing excitedly, she placed the key in the door lock. At first it wouldn’t turn but after a few tries the door opened. Rosie stepped inside.

  4. What followed could only be described as surreal. Gone were the contemporary furnishings, replaced by antiquated offerings from two centuries ago. Although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, Rosie knew something was different. These “antiquated” furnishings looked brand new. They looked brand new because they were brand new. Gingerly stepping towards the window, as if each step may open up a trap door causing her to plummet to the ground floor, she gazed out the window. The signature clip-clap sound of the horse drawn carriage down the cobblestone street left her wondering if this was all a dream.

  5. She was admiring the beauty and strength of the horse as well as the carriage he drew, when suddenly she heard noise coming from behind her. She immediately suspected one of the workers had come to inform her of some discovery, or (which was most likely), a problem that must dealt with. Instead what she saw was a woman who was about to change her life. A woman dressed in clothes similar to those that she had imagined whilst reading Jane Austen novels.

  6. The sound of her own name reverberated through her ears.
    “Roselyn, could you please come over here?” uttered the well-dressed lady. The voice was aimed in her general direction, but the eyes were focused elsewhere. The young lady that emerged from the bathroom caught Rosie looking into a virtual mirror. The strong jaw bones, the wavy locks of jet black hair, the inquisitive eyes all appeared to be a reflection of herself.

    It became quickly apparent that Rosie was indeed present in this room, but she was not seen. She was merely an apparition, or perhaps a temporary visitor to this place that was not supposed to exist. The similarities with this younger version of herself did not end with the physical characteristics. They also shared the same name, Roselyn, which she had always shortened to Rosie with her friends.

    Meaning gentle horse and beautiful rose, the meaning of this chance encounter with fate was becoming clearer with each passing second. The horse and carriage passing by on the street below was stopping by the fountain at the entrance to the garden, the same fountain and garden that the original blueprints had dictated should be in this exact location. The colors were so vibrant, the grounds so incredibly well manicured that Rosie could almost smell the roses from the fourth floor window.

    She had heard stories passed down from her great-grandmother how this hotel was a breeding ground for new rose hybrids, each with a story behind it. Guests flocked to from around the country to hear these tales. Stories of courage, fear, sorrow, adventure, and love. It was all legend, never able to be verified, until this very moment.

    As she gazed into the eyes of her great-grandmother, it was difficult to wrap her mind around this opportunity she had been presented. She was given the chance to witness a small piece of her heritage and learn about the passion that had always been burning in her heart, passed down through the generations.

    As she delicately tiptoed towards the door of the room that did not exist, she pulled it shut to find the brass keyhole disappear and the electronic room card reader replace it. Looking up at the three digits on the door, they no longer read 413. It now read 412, a room that indeed did exist in this physical reality.

    Rosie let a satisfied grin spread across her face as she turned to summon the elevator towards the lobby. Her name would become common again in the new garden adjacent to the property. The vivid memory of her experience would not fail her. There would be roses in this hotel’s future once again. And the stories to accompany them would be nothing less than spectacular.

  7. Sorry, I couldn’t leave this one hanging. I had too much invested in it 😉 I really enjoyed this idea and would look forward to this becoming a regular feature here at Today’s Author. Thanks for the opportunity to ‘keep writing’ 🙂

  8. This is a great idea and I’m sorry I missed the fun. I’ll be watching for the next exquisite corpse!

  9. it was fun. Let’s do it again soon!

  10. I’m glad this was popular. We will do this again!

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