29 Eylül 2012 Cumartesi

Collaboration Challenge 3

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Once again, I was so amazed at the wealth of responses for this writing challenge. You guys are so awesome that all I can say is... keep it up! We're already at 800 words which means this story is REALLY HAPPENING!
Special thanks to Ashley S Morgan for contributing this weeks story segment! I can't wait to read what happens next! Get in your 200 word submissions by JULY 26th. to laurenoliverbooks@gmail.com! And thanks so much for going on this literary adventure with me!


MollyLampart's 12th birthday was much like every other day, only moreboring: first tea with the governess and a posed photograph with herparents, then a procession of girls who giggled and brought chinadolls wrapped in pink paper, despite the fact that Molly hated pinkand that most of her dolls ended up dissected for medical researchpurposes. There was no sneaking out the door to climb trees in thenarrow, well-tended backyard, or hanging out her window hollering atthe trains steaming into the station two blocks away, or helpingTabby chase rats from the cellar.
It was a day to be quicklyforgotten, except for one thing:
OnMolly's 12th birthday, just as evening was starting to turn the skythe exact color pink Molly particularly despised, the emerald trainarrived, seemingly out of nowhere.
Itstarted with a rumble, a roar, a whistle, and the earth shook withthe effort of keeping the train on its surface. The train wasradiant in the dying sun, spraying colors off the emerald sidesso that Molly had to shield her eyes just to watch. But the bestpart, the absolutely most wonderfully breath-taking part of thewhole thing, was the fact that it was braking.
Theemerald train was stopping in front of Molly's house.
Excitementbuilding, she ran from the window, leaped down the grand staircase,passedbutlers and maids and other people who did not notice the girl flyingout the doorofthe four-story mansion. Rushing across the gravel walkway, Mollyskidded on herheels,nearly toppling into the stone fountain. 
Shefelt her jaw drop as her eyes rose to the emerald train stoppedin her garden. It was immense, looming, giant, and yet, itwas beautiful. For the first time all day, for the first timeshe could ever remember, Molly felt rather small.
Mollystretched onto her toes, straining to make out the words on the sideof the train. She could just make out the words “WALNUT’SWONDROUS” in thin gold lettering, reaching toward the sky, whenthe train door burst open and. BAM. 
Mollyjumped.  To her delight, she saw a flood of brightlycolored acrobats pouring from the train cars. Music danced inthe air, pounding an infectious rhythm through Molly's bones. She wasso transfixed she did not immediately notice the large, dark man whocame after them. But soon she felt someone staring at her, and sheturned.
Therewas something wrong with his eyes. One eye looked as dark as theLondon night, but the other… the other was not real. It was awalnut, carved to resemble an eye. His mouth quirked up at the edgesas Molly stared back in fascination, and although she couldn't hearhim over the music, she knew what he said when he opened his mouth. Hesaid, “Welcome”.
Emboldenedby his hospitality, her own curiosity, Molly stepped forward, inchingcloser and closer, until she felt his breath tickling her forehead.She stared up at him, transfixed by that walnut eye, that strangewooden presence that seemed to be pulsing with life, with magic. On adizzying, maddening impulse, she reached up and gently traced itsswirling groves.
 “Pullit out,” he said calmly, as if suggesting the most natural thing inthe world. Molly stared at him in wonder, and her heart beganthumping crazily in her chest. Her palms now slick with sweat, shelooked at him for reassurance. He nodded. 
Shecurled her fingers around the edges of the rough bark and gave it agood yank. She felt a sudden blast of wind. And now the man was not aman, but something else: the socket expanded into a gaping blackhole. From the blackness emerged a swirling force, like a live coil,like a whirlpool, as rippling and colorful as the acrobats, and itsuck her in and down, down, down, making her stomach clench and thenexpand in a sickening flutter.  After an endless fall, she hearda splash, and felt a fierce, wet coldness turn her bones to ice.

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