Sam’s having issues with Indy’s independance. She’s out for a walk, all by herself and he’s panicing that the stalker will get her also that she seems to have no indication she’s actually in danger. Major frustrations for Sam.
A short story about competitive siblings trying to gain the family treasure from their deceased Grandfather. For international readers out there “Ringer” refers to a person who is paid to provide labour on a station (super large grazing property aka Giant farm which can cover the area of a small nation)
Welcome to No. 4 of Keegan’s story which starts with the inspiring sentence “My name is Keegan and I am dead.” Seems like a pretty hard sentence to get a story out of but I am very happy with the results.
Please feel free to provide me with the next opening sentence.
The pot sits on the shove, the flames likcking it’s bottom.
It blackens up and heats and stews
Arguments are not forgotten.
As the day heats, so too the pot.
Injustices are percieved.
You said hello, or so you thought, “How’s your day?” as well
But heard was “You’re a rotter, you’re a tosser.”
The simmering reaches boiling point
Chaos erupts, the pot explodes
Contents flying indiscriminately
Until empty once more, flat, drained.
The simmering stew, a student again.
Welcome to the next section of Indy’s journey. She’s cleaned up her house from the extensive damage that the Stalker did to it, having the help of 3 primo strong men did not go astray. Now Indy is done with the controlling men in her life and wants to get her life back from all the orders. Her brother and her lover are not going to like that.
Last chane to offer up the next starter sentence in
“My name is Keegan and….”
It’s your opportunity to provide inspriation and influence the story in a way that challenges me. Remember the starter sentence must start with “My name is Keegan and….”
Write your starter sentences in the comments sectoin.
To read the story
This is a passage I wrote many years ago, inspired by Lian Hearn and her book “Across the Nightingale Floor”. I am not sure who my silent feet belong to, Death or some unknown creature living in fear because he/she/it does not want to kill. It’s a short read and as always I hope you enjoy
To read my inspiration