An Exquisite Corpse

Dear reader,

Below are the final results of our Exquisite Corpse, created by the 49 different writers who stopped by our table at the Brooklyn Book Festival this past weekend and added to the story.

The Exquisite Corpse is a writing game where each contributor adds the next sentence to a story while only being able to read the most recent sentence. The results are often surprising, delightful, and proof that writing doesn't have to be a solitary act.

Each of the numbered sections below begin where someone decided to start a new story. My only editorial additions were the line breaks. Enjoy!

1

He never told me I was late. However, once the day ended, I dreaded the night. The night, so long, so lonely, so terribly dark! I didn’t always feel this way—it all started when I knew this was what was meant. All the blood, sweat, and tears were worth it. 

But was it worth it for the cost of friendship? Had this friendship been a boon or bane for me? 

“Moby Dick, I need to get away for a while,” I said.

“But we’ve been together all this time,” he said. “Even though I couldn’t fit in the car.”

He reached for the door with his swollen hand. It was harder than he thought, heaving and sweating. After all he had done, I was surprised by the compassion I felt for this misbegotten son, and the roughest man in the whole community. He had such a callous aura about him, a thick shield of stoic expressions and icy glares that refused to betray the heart beneath. Beneath the skin that was always saying too much: how can you see when all you look at are the horrors of your past? 

2

Instinctively, she lifted her arms to cover the scars that criss-crossed her chest. Suddenly she heard a loud crash down the hall. Finally she decided to open the box. So after pressing the blue button and spinning around twice, the world stopped turning and everything came to a pause. The clock ticked. They grew hungry. The moon was dust. The baying of wolves carried on a chill wind from the treetops. Sarah let out a huge yelp into the abyss.

“Where have all the flowers gone??”

“Ahem,” said a small voice behind her. “We’ve hidden all the flowers but we can’t seem to find them.”

“So...we’ve lost the flowers?” she said, full of dismay. She sneezed. Twice. At which point, a groundhog emerged. The creature was actually a prairie dog so that was, like, super offensive.

The prairie dog shouted, “I am a prairie dog, not a groundhog!” and proceeded to spray dirt in their faces. Tainted, I felt impotent at the sight of them. Their jaws were hung open, cavernous and hungry. 

3

Dinnertime was a time for coming together as a family. Until my brother brought a gun and placed it in the middle of the table. After a moment, my father calmly reached over and picked it up.

“This looks burnt to me. How could you ever think of serving this?”

At that point, he threw it onto the table and bolted from the room. 

Young Gordon Ramsey sat down and hung his head. 

“You know what? Fuck him,” Gordon said to the empty kitchen. He smiled to himself; it felt good to curse out loud, something his parents would murder him for. Fortunately, they would never know this because he had transformed into a chicken. The chicken he became was a no-nonsense rooster, he passed his days lounging in the late-afternoon sun, pecking at seeds.

But one day a seed pecked back. As if this pocket of life was provoking me to grow instead. I went home and took a bath instead. I used a coconut-scented bath bomb from Bath and Body Works. As the bath fills my eyes drift shut. My cat pushes the bathroom door open and jumps onto the side of the tub. I reach for the cat but slip and my head goes under water—suddenly I am transported to a tropical island, surrounded by coconuts! The waves undulate, like a heartbeat, taking me off into a sandbar taller than my head. 

Interesting in doing a little writing of your own? Check out our upcoming classes and workshops!