Romance (?!) In Bar Light
From about 1997 until 2004 (when it disbanded), I belonged to a small online writing group. Our facilitator would periodically (usually once a month) send out a writing 'assignment'. The group (it averaged between 6-9 members at any given time) had a week to ten days to complete the 'assignment', and share it with the group. Critiques were simple: only positive feedback.
It was a pretty interesting, diverse group. We had a couple of accomplished writers. A technical writer. A budding novelist. A poet. And several persons who passed through the group with varied writing abilities, but no lack of enthusiasm for digging in and giving each and every assignment a try.
And like with any group, there had to be a class clown: moi.
The group quickly on came to expect the most off-the-wall takes on assignments from yours truly. From mortal combat with fruitcakes to contact with new-age tennis shoes taken as alien life forms, I never failed to leave 'em scratchin' their collective haids.
Like with this one (from 2003) hyar.