Chapter the First
By Mary Innes
The building in front of you is enormous, towering toward the pale blue sky, or, at least, it would tower if it didn’t lean precariously over to one side and seem to fold in on itself like some arthritic old woman. The walls are, as far as you can tell, stone, but little rooms and extensions of brick and glass and wood now cover them. Above the scratched double doors is a faded old sign that says ‘Reality is Optional’. In the window, a slightly less faded sign says ‘Here there be Writers.’ You swallow and open the door to your new workplace.
You are THE INTERN, and you have just begun your first day one the job at the REALITY IS OPTIONAL BUILDING. You are about to meet many strange and unusual people who SHOULD NOT EXIST in human form. You enjoy WRITING, both fiction and non-fiction, poetic and prose, and can be persuaded to create ART if you’re in the right mood. You also sometimes engage in HILARIOUS ANTICS and DARING PRANKS. In your bag, you have a NOTEBOOK, a PEN, PENCIL, and an ERASER, as well as your LUNCH and your CELLPHONE.
The entrance hall of the RIO Building lies before you. A few chairs lurk in the shadows in the corner and you swear you can hear the clang of swords below you and the sound of an argument somewhere below you.
What will you do?
You are THE INTERN, and you have just begun your first day one the job at the REALITY IS OPTIONAL BUILDING. You are about to meet many strange and unusual people who SHOULD NOT EXIST in human form. You enjoy WRITING, both fiction and non-fiction, poetic and prose, and can be persuaded to create ART if you’re in the right mood. You also sometimes engage in HILARIOUS ANTICS and DARING PRANKS. In your bag, you have a NOTEBOOK, a PEN, PENCIL, and an ERASER, as well as your LUNCH and your CELLPHONE.
The entrance hall of the RIO Building lies before you. A few chairs lurk in the shadows in the corner and you swear you can hear the clang of swords below you and the sound of an argument somewhere below you.
What will you do?