We had our first meeting of the new year yesterday. We decided to try out a game we’ve done before, but with some slight changes this time. I’m sure some of you have played Consequences before, we played something similar but with differing levels of structure.
To begin with everyone wrote down a theme, then passed their paper to the next person in the circle. This person wrote a line then we passed round again, until all four of us had written a line, ending with the person who picked the theme. They then had the joy of reading it out!
This is always a fascinating exercise: without being able to see what someone else has written before, it’s incredible how closely the narratives sometimes follow on. And sometimes, of course, they make no sense at all.
“And now class we’re going to sing the three time stable. Who wants to start?”
The choir lifted their voices for the first notes of ‘This little piggy went to market’.
Glorious music could be heard throughout the land and travellers came from far abroad to hear it.
Despite it all, they felt calmed as the music swarmed them, shutting out all possibility of interference, closing off the world and leaving only them.
“It may be all to play for but the team are already three members down and the survivors are looking tired. It’s all up to man-of-the-match Kayleigh to bring her team to victory.”
Blood flowed from a cut, streaming down into eyes and mouth, choking and nauseous.
The blood and guts of the dead rabbit, a small sad bundle that he saw from the corner of his eye as the car sped past.
Rubble lay strewn about from collapsed buildings, interspersed with the burnt out wrecks of cars.
She practised the signature so often her hand traced it on her pillow as she slept.
The blistering hot furnaces burning eternally, the crackling of flame filling the air combined with the clang of metal on metal.
The smith’s hammer dropped and clattered, a dull ring through his skin, flesh, bones, shaking him to the core. He stared into the fires and waited for the blade.
But it was all consumed in the splashing metal of an overturned crucible.
Light rain falling from an almost cloudless skky patters lightly on the leaves of a lone oak tree.
She groaned as she covered her eyes against the hideous sight; her one and only weakness, how would she pursue them now?
“Double, or even triple rainbows are possible, with the right set of circumstances,” a passing stranger remarked.
The rainbow teddy bear danced a wild dance around the baby’s head, flourishing a drumstick towards the downy scalp.
This is one of my favourite parts of the Wednesday Write-in every week: watching how differently people interpret the prompts, how they lace them together. What made this exercise particularly interesting was how we avoided using specifics, how we wrote around each other’s stories. Some of us were careful not to tread too heavily, while at other times we deliberately stomped all over it so as to change the direction of a potential story, without knowing where it was already headed.