artykins

Hello everyone!  I thought of something just now whilst at the office that inspired me to try something entirely new.  What I propose has never been done before that I know of in our little circle of closely knit readership.  What I'd actually like to do is start something, give it to someone else to add to and then finish it myself.

So here's the deal.  I'm going to write the beginning of a story with some elements that will need to be touched on in later additions and then choose one of my readers to continue the story.  When they write their part of the story, they then choose someone else in their readership to add their part.  We'll also keep track of names and links of blogs so that we can follow the story along. 

Any questions?  Good.

So we begin...

Arty - http://artykins.blogspirit.com (Part 1)

There once was an island.  It was small and inconsequential.  It was connected to the the rest of civilization by nothing and no one from the mainland ever crossed the water to get there, though inhabitants often rowed to the mainland to sell their goods.  It was an island that gave nothing, whose inhabitants contributed little more than mystery.

You see, this island, which is now lost to the generations, was shrouded all the time by mist.  It could be perfectly sunny on the mainland, but once the water came within site that separated land from land, a wall of mist would hide the shores of the island from sight.

Children were often told not to go near its waters for fear of being snatched and carried away into mystery.  Those who disappeared became nameless once their children, perhaps their children's children, forgot about them and lost their names to time. 

The island produced many things apart from mystery.  The most fantastic, exotic foods would be rowed over the water by its inhabitants and sold at local mainland markets for a steep profit, but no one ever knew how they grew such things when sunlight never seemed to penatrate their fortress of mystery.

But the prosperity the inhabitants enjoyed was not to last.  That is why I say there once was an island, small and inconsequential, connected to nothing more than mystery.

Now, I think I'll choose Ben James to continue on from here.  It seems like something that'd be in a vein he'd enjoy writing about.  

Benny, feel free to continue the story in any form you wish.  Poetry would be what I associate with you, but you might take a stab at some prose.