Saturday, April 28, 2012

Y is For Yodel

Are you so happy we're almost done you could just yodel?



Y- Yodel: to sing by suddenly changing from a natural voice to a falsetto and back; also : to shout or call in a similar manner
Photo credit

Yesterday's sentence comes Brooke R. Busse from and is: It was like a xenium from the gods as I turned hit the button, said my name, and someone answered.

Let's see what great sentences you can come up with to tie our story all together and remember here's what we have so far:

The alpha coefficient was too high; the risk too great. Losing my balance, I plummeted to the darkest recesses of the canyon. I had to release my tenuous grip on the briefcase, so I could pull my chute in my panic; it spilled classified papers all over the floor of the ravine when it exploded on impact. Struggling to free myself from the parachute, I cursed the debacle this mission had become. After finally getting the parachute to release me, I started to ponder over the enigma of where I was.      It seemed odd to think that only thirty hours ago I had been sitting in a Starbucks having coffee. But then that man with the formidable mustache had sat down next to me. He made me an offer and I'd run through the gamut of usual excuses, but to no avail. And actually, I couldn't pull off the hypocrisy of not wanting a million bucks. But I played it casual and said, "How ironic, you of all people would need my help.
     The safety of that coffee shop juxtaposed with the danger I was in now.
     "Ironic? No. You and I are practically kindred spirits and you need the money," he said, placing a briefcase on the table. I had to admit that he was right; and after all, money had been the first real love of my life. Until that monumental moment when I was forced to weigh what was really important. Since that time though, I'd been on the run nonstop. Always with the fear that some omnipotent being was watching me.   
     But I think it's time I palliate this fear and bite the bloody bullet, yeah? My Quixotic quest for understanding could wait until I was on a secluded beach somewhere, sipping run-filled fruity drinks brought to me by bronze bikini-clad beauties; right now I needed to get the Hell out of this canyon. And that's when I saw it, nestled in a crevice, a riant sight that would teleport me to the airship Hindenburg IX. Then a sinister feeling washed over me. They wouldn't let me on the ship without my papers. And they were currently being blow down the canyon. To hell with the papers I thought, harnessing my emotions and casting aside the timorous voice inside my head, all the while praying the flash drive still in my pocket would be enough to gain access to the airship.  After all, we were united in our goals. Or, at least, I was the means for them to achieve theirs.  I reached out for the crevice to grab hold of the walkie-talkie, but just then the wind filled my parachute and I began to be blown away. With a valiant effort I struggled to hold onto the branch that was keeping me in place.  With determination I untangled myself from the parachute and with wanderlust, grabbed the walkie-talkie.  It was like a xenium from the gods as I turned hit the button, said my name, and someone answered.

Thanks so much for stopping by and please forgive me for not being around much this week. I'm on vacation. A special thanks to DL Hammons who is picking the sentences and updating the story daily for me.


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3 comments:

Lauren S. said...

"Who is this?" said the voice.

"Agent Smith!" I yodeled. "Come and get me!"

Chuck said...

Lauren, you win. I couldn't even begin to use that word...in any context.

Kelley Lynn said...

I hope you're having an awesome time on vaca!!:)