This story was composed at a friend’s housewarming party. Each font change represents a new author. None of the writers could see the sentence before the one he composed.
When we came to the house we hated the color.
But we liked the starlight shining through
the window. Every night we would sit at
the kitchen table and tell stories of our yesteryears
roaming the tundra + hunting small Alaskan
foxes for sport.
But those days were long since past, and now
the only thing we could do was hold our
loved ones near.
To start a new dream and see a new
orphanage in the Sahara is all I want.
But first I needed to raise the money to
buy my favorite book.
After I made the purchase I hit a little girl.
Turned out to be a terrorist!
So I pulled out my gun and shot