As Fritzken continued to listen to the never before heard hum, there seemed to be another hum. Only this hum was more familiar to him. It sounded very much like a motorcycle. Infact, this hum was the hum that he had heard many times in his modest middle class neighborhood. Yes, Fritzken was sure now. It was the sound of the motorcyle that belonged to his neighbor, Peety. As the motorcycle got very close, he noticed the bright red paint of the machine that he had seen almost every day.....

Fancy writing a fantastic story together?

This is not my idea, but something I picked up in a forum related to the Myst games.
We could invent some fantastic story, taking turns in writing a short part, say no more than a screen full but maybe even just a sentence or two, without a preset storyline and without a goal of any kind.

If you wanna see what that looks like check out <a>www.mysthillarium.com[/url]

There are only a few simple rules to adhere to:

If you want to write the next bit, first add a reply to the end of the story so far that simply states "... posting ..."
That way anyone else waits for that bit to appear before writing his part. It should give the story some continuity.
Once you've completed your bit simply replace the message "... posting ..." with the actual text, or, if the one hour for editing is up, add the text in another reply.

Cueing (i.e. multiple people saying "posting") should also be avoided.

And besides that: Be imaginative and don't take things too seriously.


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Fritzken enjoyed the first sunrays after a long winter. Time to get on his bike and do something silly, he thought.
And so he pedalled out of the little village, the mp 3 player blaring into his ears:
"Did a vehicle come from somewhere
out there
just to land in the An-deeees"

He wasn't quite sure what inspired him, but after a while he went off the road and cross country. Not a particularly good idea, considering that his bike was anything but sturdy. Still, it was great to feel the tall grass brush against his legs and his mood couldn't have been any better. He worked his bike up a small hill, onwards and onwards, leaving civilisation behind him. And he had no regrets. After playing that game all winter and conquering the world four times over he was tired of computer games. Besides, it was time to let the PC work on a few WUs again.

When he finally reached the top of the incline Fritzken got off his rusty old bicycle, looked around and marvelled at the view he had from here. The air was crystal clear. A few white clouds were scattered over an otherwise blue sky. There was a wonderful smell in the air and it was silent around him, except for an occasional bird call. And a hum. A strange, modulated hum. Barely audible, but noticeably unusual. Fritzken couldn’t remember ever hearing such a sound before…

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Ich bin dein geheimer Schmutz, und verlorenes Metallgeld (FZ)