Let's write a story together...........

{add a line, add a paragraph, try to stay with the opening theme}

I awoke to the bleakness of a grey sky, freezing temperature and another snowfall. Once my gear was assembled and pack shouldered, I lumbered forward, each step becoming more ponderous then the last.

Or:

https://www.thefedoralounge.com/threads/het-gang-lets-write-a-story-together.3076/

Or even:

https://www.thefedoralounge.com/threads/lets-tell-a-story.59530/

I had walked for a day and needed to find a place to camp. I approached the frozen lake with caution, and carefully, very carefully eased myself onto the icepack. I had removed my pack and attached it to a line to reduce my weight while attempting the crossing. Not quite midway across the ice began to crack under my feet. I moved slowly and turned when ice gave way and I was plunged into the freezing depths below. I recall thinking as I sunk to the bottom through both time and space, had I only been a bit smaller......... Perhaps I'll ask Alice, I think she'll know.

I had hoped for a different ending, but due to an overwhelming lack of interest, I had to end our hero's quest prematurely.

....but then a tug came came from my pack line. Was it Alice...

What is this taste in mouth? My head is throbbing. Now that my life is half over, is this how the next 50 years will go? My whole body is sore. There's a familiar stinging from raw flesh and fresh scars. Quaaludes, Asti Spumante, and waking up with welts on my wrist left behind by standard police issue handcuffs. The all too familiar scents of stale vomit, urine, and other bodily discharges. I'm on a filthy bare mattress, in an unfamiliar room. My Reyn Spooner Aloha shirt is missing a few of the coconut shell buttons. I could see my Levi's, and 1 boot on the floor. With any luck, the other boot is at least somewhere in the room. My pulse quickened, then relaxed, as I see that my 5 shot .38 is still holstered on my belt. I instinctively grab that first. I hear water running, and stumble towards the sound. That's when I saw her. A mesh cap over her head, explains the wig on the nightstand. She was still wearing a corset and stockings. Her back was turned to me. Tattoos covered her skin like graffiti. My eyes are still blurry. As I admired the feminine form, and steadied myself against the door jamb; it was then that I noticed she was standing up urinating.......

It has been 25 years since the event. Alice did come to my rescue, and the immediate outcome, outlined in a dream whilst in hospital scared me enough to want to permanently change my life. And so I have. Today, I am retired from all but day to day living, and enjoying my remaining time. My adventurous days are over. The only place I frequent that even sounds a bit exotic is Trader Joes.