I haven't written fiction for a while. The last time was published in the Women's Journal, in 1989. I've always wanted to revive my writing *career* and once in a while I get sparks of inspiration for short stories, but sadly the noise of reality and the demands of responsibility keep me away from imagining and storylines.

However, today I decided to start something, for which I would need the help of some friends. I'm starting a story and would be tagging friends to write the continuation. They say more heads are better than one. Well, the other heads I have in mind are really BETTER heads so I believe this story's going to be a real adventure! Plus they'd be posting the continuation in their own blogs, so we would be off bloghopping every week! (Don't worry, they're smart enough to remember to put a link back to the previous installment...)

And so because I'm too excited for words, here's the start of this story-writing adventure:
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She doesn’t like goodbyes. Never did. And she’s a fool, a sentimental one. The kind that keeps diaries and writes poems, and likes songs that say what she keeps inside.

That when she wrote him goodbye, she found herself bereft of words. Not because she didn’t have anything to say to him, but because she didn’t know where to start.

Like, how does she say it pains her to say goodbye to him after knowing that he’s loved her too, all these years? How does she tell him how much he’s meant to her, that he could have had her if he asked, if he only asked?

She began scrawling—

“My dear Shaun,” but her tears fell on the words and smeared them.

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TAG, Olive! Can you continue this for me?