Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

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Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby Brian » Tue Oct 21, 2008 8:11 am


Brian
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Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby Brian » Tue Oct 21, 2008 8:11 am

You awaken with amnesia in what looks to be an igloo. You have $4 and a rock in one pocket, and a toothbrush in the other. Someone is staring at you. Write this scene.

Please limit your response to 500 words or fewer.

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Re: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby acre1964 » Tue Oct 21, 2008 7:19 pm

As I wake up in an igloo I find a few things wondering what happen. I found four dollars in my pocket with a rock and tooth brush. Then I see a person there too. As I wonder what happen and who am I. The person there looks very filmier. This person starts talking to me saying wake up. Look at this person eyes they are blue as can be and a warm feeling comes over me. She has blonde hair and smooth as can be. With her soothing voice I relax feeling warmth and love. I asked her “Who are you?" She said" over and over and over again” God loves you and so do I. I am wondering where am I at. She kept saying you’re in better hands now. She said "God Loves You". At this point I am getting sick of hearing this like a skipping record. Plus it is getting cold in the darn igloo. Then she tells me to fall asleep and everything will be okay. I am like is this a bad dream or what? Then I finally go back to sleep and wake up remember this strange place and all that happen there.
Thinking that was a dream inside of a dream and really strange. I open my eyes and wake up at home with my wife just baffled. The next morning I see this person walking down the street and I am like wow this is strrange and eerie. So I said hi to her and her response was God Love You and Your In Better Hands Now!!
I turn sheet white and go home and tell my wife the story and her response is chase her down if you want her.
The wife said it with an attitude negative one. So I took the blondes advice and told my wife Your In Better Hands Now God Loves You and So do I. My wife looked strange for a moment then she really realized I Love Her as my wife. Not the blonde with the blue eyes but my wife but, when I look at my wife that is who I sees the woman of my dreams.
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Re: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby oldtt » Wed Oct 22, 2008 11:04 am

Amnesiac On Ice

“Mommy, the cave man’s moving,” shouted the young girl as she pointed through the wire toward the plexiglass dome located near the entrance to Strange World Exhibits. Her mother quickly corrected her.

“He isn’t a cave man, Sweetie, he’s supposed to be an Eskimo. See the round house he lives in? That’s called an igloo. Eskimos stay in them to keep warm way up north where they live.”

“Then why isn’t there a front door?” the girl said rather triumphantly. “How does he keep warm when there isn’t any front door? I can see right inside.”

“Because it isn’t really cold where we are, so he doesn’t need a front door. Anyway, if he had one you couldn’t see him.

“Oh,” the little girl said. Then they moved on to the Brazilian Exhibit, which featured two people, a giant kettle, and a grass hut.

Arnie Flincher heard most of this conversation, since he was the object of the girl’s attention. It seemed to him that he must have been sleeping for hours, yet he had no memory of actually going to sleep or – for that matter – of where he was now. He only knew he needed a drink, and there was nothing inside the small shelter that looked remotely like a bottle. He reflexively checked the side pockets of his jacket and found a worn-out toothbrush in one and a rock in the other. Along with the rock he felt some loose change lumped together in one corner that added up to about 4 dollars. As much as he tried, Arnie couldn’t make sense out of anything. He seemed to have no other possessions, his current address was some sort of a zoo, and - to top things off – he was unable to remember the smallest detail of his life. Even his name was a mystery.

“What’s this place,” Arnie said as he glanced around, “some kind of damn igloo?”

Meanwhile, outside the rundown wooden building on one end of the boardwalk that was officially named Strange Exhibits but known to locals as The Shed, a youngish woman approached the ticket window and anxiously inquired about her father.

“Have you seen this man?” she said, showing the ticket agent a well-worn photograph. “He’s about five feet eight, older, and he’s probably drunk. He left home last night and hasn’t been seen since. We only live a few blocks away, so I think he might have come down to the beach looking for an open bar.”

The ticket agent glanced at the photo, looked up, and said, “Not my problem, lady.”

Inside his exhibit, Arnie had stumbled upon the same small back door he had used to find shelter last night. Before he left, he waved at the Eskimo mannequin standing outside the igloo. The woman spotted him leaving the shed, collected him, and drove him home.

“Shame on you, Dad, for breaking Sarah’s piggybank. Next time ask me for money.”

“I have my own toothbrush,” Arnie said proudly. “Who’s Sarah?”

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RE: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby Cyndi327 » Thu Oct 23, 2008 2:03 am

My eyes flew open. Wow, I must have really been sleeping soundly. My eyes adjust to the darkness, am I in an igloo? I have the faint sense that someone is staring at me. This can’t be an igloo, it’s way too warm. I am sweating. Putting my hand down to my side, I feel a rough blanket underneath me. Then the smell hit me. Ugh! Wet dog. Maybe just dog.

I’m in a dog house. Chuckling to myself, my wife and I must have had an argument and I literally wound up in the dog house. An igloo dog house. Well, it’s time for me to assert myself and just go crawling back into the house and ask for forgiveness.

Rolling over I found myself staring straight into a pair of shiny black eyes, that were none too friendly. A low growl issued from deep within this mongrel’s throat.

“Ok, boy, umm” oh, Lord, I have forgotten my own dog’s name. “It’s ok, fella.”

After a canine sneeze sprayed my face unexpectedly, the large black dog, moved away from the entrance to the dog house. I crawled out, and stood slowly, straightening out my now stiff joints.

Do I live here? I stared up at the yellow two story house. It didn’t look familiar. Where am I? My temples began to pound with the realization that I didn’t know where I was or even who I was? I swallowed hard, turned back to the dog who had run into his home as soon as I had abandoned it. He simply looked up at me with no answers of his own.

ID. I must have some ID on me. My back pockets were empty, no wallet. In my right front pocket was a small, smooth, black stone and four one dollar bills. The left pocket yielded only a toothbrush.

My heart raced, sweat beaded on my upper lip and forehead. The earth felt as if it were tilting and I was about to fall off. Would it matter if I did fall off? I was a nobody. No name. No home. Glancing back once more at the now sleeping pooch, I realized, that is not even my dog.

I had to find someone to help. Someone surely knows who I am. Walking off toward the street, I jammed my hand back into my pocket. That stone, I rubbed the stone with my thumb. Somehow that stone was the most familiar thing in my world at this moment.

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RE: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby Buck Range » Thu Oct 23, 2008 5:53 am

“Tusaatsiarunnanngittualuujunga” in the native Nunavut Inuktitut means “I can’t hear very well”. I am aware of this and don’t know why or how. My head throbs with every pulse. The veins in my brain are a straight highway between my heart and the bruise on my head. There’s an instantenous pounding of the two.

“Ka-nwee-peet?”

I’m fine. “Ka-nweeng-ni-toon-ga”. Again, how do I know that? The broad face about a inch from my own smiles. I’m in an igloo. There isn’t much room for personal space. Mr. Alikatuktuk. His name creeps out of the hippocamus and begins clinking around in pre-frontal lobe of my brain. He is my guide. I remember that.

“Kim-mook-sick-koo-roo-mah-voon-ga,” he says sitting back on his heels. Something about wanting to check out his dog team. He pats me on the chest and exits an icy hole on his knees. My memories are a jumbled soup; all parts floating around with no order, a boiling mixture of things out of sequence. I sit up. My head scraps the ceiling. Ice falls down my collar. He constructed the shelter a bit shallow. I shouldn’t bitch. For some reason I’m vaguely sure he saved my life.

The pocket of my coat is unzipped and as I jostle about four coins spill out. Canadian loonies. I pull off my glove and hold one up to examine. It frosts over at my touch. This is all the money I have. Mr. Alikatuktuk won’t be happy. I think I’m still on the hook for his fee. I think.

I reach in my pocket to search for more cash. It’s probably not logical at the moment, but it’s all I have to do. The left pocket is vacant save a toothbrush. I hold it up realizing this is the only bit of human technology I have in my possesion. I find triumph and tragedy in that thought and my head hurts because of it.

I pull the other glove and decide to explore my other pocket. The thing that probably makes the least amount of sense in this moment makes sense to me. I pull it out and hold it in my hand. Roll it around. I even manage a smile. A rock. There’s nothing special in the shape or the size. Mind you, most of the world’s population would walk past this thing. Maybe even pick it up and pitch it into a lake. But I risked my life to trek to the Canadian Artic to find it. Now I have to convince Mr. Alikatuktuk it’s worth infinitely more than the four dollars I have with me, his fee, and frankly his entire village.

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Re: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby hida » Thu Oct 23, 2008 6:26 am

Whoa. Where am I? And what is this lump in my pocket. A toothbrush, rock. Do I really just have $4? Well I suppose that’s alright seeing how I’m in an igloo?
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Who are you?!? And why are you just sitting there staring at me?”
“Do you not talk? D-O-Y-O-U-S-P-E-A-K-E-N-G-L-I-S-H?”
I’ve decided to file down this toothbrush with this rock. I have to survive. That is the only thing that I can think about, death. There is some random guy staring at me, not speaking. Is he guarding me, or is he trying to keep me safe? What if I’m being trapped in this igloo by some savage? Maybe I should ask to go pee and then file as much as I can. There’s no way he’d think he is going to watch me while I pee.
“Bathroom, may I use the restroom. I have got to urinate. Please?”
Here’s my only chance. I’m going to shank him and run away. I have got to get away from here. I cannot remember anything, where was I before here? Where is here exactly, who can I ask, who is on my side? Is there a side, is there anybody else?
It’s so cold out here, and I cannot see to save my life. Then again I may be doing this to be safe. I don’t know anymore. Maybe I can just go back and surrender. Maybe there will be warmth waiting for me. Even if they are going to kill me then I should at least be put in a warm place while waiting. They have to be trying to kill me. That’s the only way. I’m going back.
I would rather die.

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Re: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby threeatsea » Thu Oct 23, 2008 11:19 am

It's possible that I'm dead, so I wait before opening my eyes. Once open, there is no going back. If I'm dead, game over. Eternity.

I can afford a minute to get my bearings.

I'd been falling. First, it felt like flying. And then: the sickening realization that the ground was approaching too fast. The peacefulness turned into a horrifying beating by howling air. And then - blackness.

Steeling myself, I slit my eyes, and see... white. Heaven? No. What might have been clouds reveals itself to be snow. Packed, as if I were laying in an... igloo?

Taking inventory, I try to ferret out any part of me that hurts. Nothing seems to, so I sit up, and that's when I notice her.

She is staring at me, her pale eyes curious. Her parka is laying across her. She has the posture of an animal prepared to pounce if necessary. I opt to make slow, deliberate movements.

"The trees broke your fall." She delivers this news with careful articulation.

As if on cue, soreness rushes into my limbs. I feel wetness on my face and touch it, bringing away a bloody hand.

"I'll take you into town, but the dogs need to rest first."

I nod, trying to focus. With growing awareness of pain, I prop myself on an elbow. Something jabs me, and I reach my hand into my pocket. A rock, ragged and black, surfaces.

She is watching me, cautious. "What's your name? Are there others?"

I look at her as if she spoke another language. I can't find words to answer.

She misunderstands. "Do you speak English?"

"Yes." But I can't remember who I am, or why I was in the air. And I'm not sure I should reveal this handicap. She is waiting for me to go on. I don't. She repeats herself.

"The dogs need rest. Then we'll go."

I nod, guiding my hand through the cargo areas of my pants. I notice her upper arm tighten - the arm which is partially concealed by her coat. She's grasping protection, in case I lunge.

I would no more be able to lunge at her, then to report my name.

I discover a toothbrush. It's slick with a black substance, its bristles coated with goo. Was I cleaning something? Repairing? She watches as I turn the toothbrush in my hand, considering it.

"Your gear was thrown. It was too cold to stay out and look for it, so we brought you here."

We. Of course; her small frame wasn't a likely candidate for carrying my dead weight very far. For the first time I notice whining, and the low voice of a man. He is outside, calming the dogs.

I am at the mercy of this pair, but there is nothing I can do about that now.

She produces a flask, handing it to me. Brandy. My body steeps a tea of relief.

Sleep overpowers. Trusting out of need, in seconds, I am asleep.

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Re: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby msullivan0206 » Thu Oct 23, 2008 6:06 pm

I awoke to pain made worse when I sat up. My hand reached to my aching temple. I recognized nothing and, with a sudden panic, realized that included me.

Forcing calm, I looked around. Blocks of ice formed walls that met a smooth ice floor. I avoided the pain of the bright oval entrance. The only other thing in the room was a pile of animal pelts similar to the layers covering my own body.

Aside from my throbbing temple, I seemed uninjured. I was fully clothed in a long-sleeve flannel shirt and, under the pelts, felt a pair of denim pants. The pockets bulged strangely, and I pulled out the contents. In the left pocket, a palm-sized rock was wrapped with four one dollar bills. I felt a small relief when I recognized George Washington. “It’s a start,” I thought. In the right pocket was a toothbrush. I fought some nausea as I tried to make sense of these possessions.

I regarded the pile of furs across the small room. As I stared, I detected a slight movement. An eye blink! I gasped as I realized a set of black eyes within had been regarding me silently. Then the pile began to shift and move.

The mound of pelts rose and began falling away until at last was revealed a white, shaggy creature at least 8ft in height. Its face was animalistic and invoked an instinctive fear that felt familiar somehow.

For a moment, it just stood there. As I took in its animal smell, black beads regarded me above a mouth of yellowed fangs. It exhaled sharply, and a rotten stench followed. Its hands and feet were like a giant gorilla’s, but black claws protruded between digits like that of a bear.

It took a step toward me. Galvanized, and pain forgotten, I scrambled to be free of the heavy layers. I gained some leverage and pushed backward. For a few seconds, as the creature stepped toward me, I maintained the distance between us. Then my back hit the cold, unyielding wall of the igloo. The creature came on.

It soon towered over me with a passionless expression. I screamed and began crying unashamedly as the creature leaned down. The yellow teeth drew nearer, and rotten breath told of past meals. I heard something whimper and realized it was me. When it was inches from my face, I could see small bits of meat clinging between teeth.

Its black nose was nearly touching mine when it stopped, opened its mouth, and said in an agitated voice, “See, dear, this is what happens when you don’t brush your teeth. Now give me back my goddamned toothbrush!! And you had better put that four dollars back in my purse, and stop playing with grandma’s kidney stone, or I’m going to clout you again!!! Just wait ‘til your father gets home!! Dammit to hell, sometimes I think we made a mistake adopting you!”

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RE: Amnesia and the Igloo 10/21-10/27

Postby ETAunknown » Thu Oct 23, 2008 7:32 pm

The Doctor and the Princess

~*~*~

When he finally stirred, the shock of it was so immense she nearly toppled over.

She reached a hand down to steady herself, her gaze wide and fixed as his head lolled from side to side. His eyes creaked open and she gathered her courage, leaning forward on her knees. She leaned in and in, her head hovering directly above the man on the floor, who gaped at her in response. He blinked.

“Where am I?” The voice was confused, but not unkind, and she smiled.

“I am a Princess, and you’re in my ice castle!” she stated proudly, rising to her feet so as to allow her guest to sit up.

He seemed shocked. “I’m in an igloo?”

“It’s an ice castle,” she corrected firmly. She swept a hand grandly. “Welcome to the North Pole!”

He was sitting now, and raised a hand to his head. He spoke again, befuddled.

“The North Pole?” She nodded her confirmation. “How did I get here?”

She didn’t know. “Um,” she said, twirling an absent finger through her hair. “Maybe—“ she continued, her voice drifting off. Suddenly, she gasped. “I know! You must have found the special key! The only way into my castle is with the special key.”

He thought for a moment, his eyes narrowing and his forehead creasing, then shook his head.

“I don’t remember finding a key. What does it look like?”

She shrugged, her hands extended in an exaggerated motion that reflected her uncertainty. “It can look like anything—that’s why it’s special.”

He sat up straighter and went for his pockets, pausing as he looked down. “I’m wearing a doctor’s coat,” he realized with surprise. “I must be a doctor?” It came out as a question, but she just nodded in the affirmative, and he didn’t pursue the matter. He felt the breast pocket first—empty. He reached down to the two flap pockets, pushing a hand into one and feeling around.

“I have,” he said, pausing to count, “two dollar bills, six quarters, four dimes and two nickels.” At her discouraging shake of the head, he reached into the second pocket. He pulled his hand out, his lips quirking just slightly. “A pink toothbrush?”

She shook her head vigorously. “That’s not the key.”

He placed the toothbrush back in his pocket, and extended the final object. “What about this rock? It’s very sparkly and pretty—it looks like a geode.”

She reached a hand out. “Let me see it.” She held it between her fingers, squinting and concentrating. She looked up, beaming.

“This is it! You found my key! And for bringing it back to me, you get to make a wish, any wish you want.”

He folded his arms and grinned, effectively breaking character.

“What I want, young lady, is to know what your toothbrush is doing here in your make-believe igloo instead of the bathroom where it belongs.”

“Daddy!” she whined, “It’s not an igloo, it’s my ice castle! And I’m a Princess!”

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