Voila: Story no. 1

In 1828 Isidore married Miss Arabel Gumpert
So much clamor and noise was made by the by-standers
The murmuring swelled to a buzz
She had gazed at them with her heart beating in her throat

Behind her on a bright white wall was an old map
Yes, I said, I am afraid of being up high.
We entered
He was standing by the fireplace
She went up on her knees.
My lady grandmother knows all about us.
This was just the kind of thing she would have expected him to do
as the story progressed

The central cult object of Israel was a palladium called the Ark of the Covenant;
The other sects call them the History Monks.
There’s a time in infancy when they will take you in
O earth, what changes hast thou seen!
My lady takes this discharge like a wise woman
Not tonight; it’s a party, remember?

Damn you.
Nobody with any sense walks onto a strip of swaying planks stretched over a twenty-foot drop
A small black-and-white television parked atop a refrigerator:

I could feel Gazarra shrug over the phone line
We’ve just been somewhere elsewhere, I told her
But she was not her sister, nor his wife
So he determined to get the better of him.
Senneth glanced up at him.
I slipped through to the audience chamber
She let me wear them once, for an hour.

People were rarely sensible about anything
And here I sat a prisoner to a pack of petty thieves on a stinking ship.
No-one is arrested
What if I take too much?

We really must be off.


This turned out well, didn’t it?

I took the first phrase or clause of every submission, stripped out punctuation and added some back in, and then arranged things according to my fancy. Would somebody like to take this over next week?