Story-go-round

Ok, so I've been having sporadic itchings to write lately, but I haven't really been able to figure out anything to write about, and I know a lot of us are creative writers, so I thought I would propose a group writing effort. If people are interested, Great! If not, then that's not a problem either.

The rules are simple. We all take turns writing a story. Each poster adds exactly one paragraph to the story. There is no set turn order. If you feel you have something to add, then add it. If two people post at the same time and their paragraphs contradict each other, the one that ends up posted first is the one the story will follow. Please delete the second post if this happens.

Your paragraph can be as long or as short as logic dictates, but should not be an obvious attempt to squeeze several disparate paragraphs into one. Each post must advance the story or characters in some way, however small. Posts can introduce new characters or situations, but do not have to. The story should be narrative in nature and make logical sense. Switching to a different scene with different characters is fine, but no non-sequitor paragraphs that cannot realistically be worked into the overall story. Everything should be able to be fit together, in other words.

Please try to check grammar and spelling before posting. Mistakes are fine, but it should be at least legible.

Below is the opening paragraph. I'll try to keep it generic enough that we can go wherever we want with it.

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The shrill whine of the alarm clock cut through the dim morning air of the bedroom. As it continued shrieking there was a small grunt from beneath the thick covers of the bed and an arm slowly emerged, groping blindly at the alarm before tossing it unceremoniously to the floor, where it landed with a thud and went silent.

(How does dialogue work for paragraphs?)

The rude awakening told Linda that it was now 2:45 PM, and she had forty-five minutes to be at the school. That was five minutes for the final push out of the covers, fifteen to shower, ten to dress, three to cram a poptart or two down her throat (or maybe something better if Li An had been feeling generous, or foolish, with her lunch leftovers earlier). Then seventeen for the ride. Really it should only take fifteen, but she had to account for traffic lights and the general douchebaggery of local drivers. With a slur of curses sure to garner disapproving looks from anyone with parental inclinations, she forced herself to sit up, and glared down at the now-silent sleep tyrant.

(Generally each new speaker would be a new paragraph. Keep in mind the rules are there as guidelines, not absolute authorities, so if there's something that absolutely must take two paragraphs once in a while, that's fine. It's supposed to be fun, not a chore. Also, discussion of and suggestions about where the plot is going or what you are expecting is fine, although no one is required to necessarily do what you want them to.)

With a final, resigned groan she stood up and went over to the heap of cleanish clothes laying in the corner of the floor. After a minute of rifling she came up with a pair of faded jeans and a flannel shirt that she didn't remember owning; but it was clean, so it would have to do. With her eyes still half open she finished buttoning it around her and opened the door to her room, slouching out into the apartment's main living area.

Soft music spilled from the closed door to Li An's room, and she scowled - dressing before making it to the bathroom had been a good call. How did you tell your best friend that you thought her new boyfriend was a skeevy jerk? She missed the days of thoughtlessly wandering the apartment naked in the afternoons, of not sleeping in until the last minute so as to avoid any kind of unwelcome confrontation. Well, maybe it was all in her head, but she wasn't taking any chances. She locked the bathroom door behind her.

A few minutes later, after all of her morning rituals had been taken care of, she emerged from the bathroom, noting with a sinking feeling in her stomach that the music had stopped and Li An's door was ajar. As she got to the kitchen to procure her morning pop-tart she saw with distaste that Kevin, wearing nothing but boxer shorts, was bent over and rooting around in the refrigerator.

She put on her biggest, cheeriest, fake-est smile. "If you steal my lunch leftovers, Imma gonna have to stab you in the face."