Write a story or post with an open ending, and let your readers invent the conclusion.
Thanks for the great idea, warturoadam77p!
I’ve walked a long way this morning, five miles before the sun was fully up and now I’ve turned around to make my way back home. As I walk along the river, early morning sunlight sparkles on the water, the treed trail comes alive with the rustling of small critters and the cacaphony of birds overhead. As I walk I gather berries, leaves and the occasional flower to eat, ten miles is a long way and I need to re-fuel but never remember to carry food. Its okay, I’ve done this all summer. I know how to test things to make sure they are edible, I learned that from a cousin many years ago, a mountain man who lived off the land. As I walk along I snack on some wild sorrel, a handful of raspberries and a few not quite ripe choke cherries. The nettles are great too, for some reason they don’t sting here, which is great because I have yet to find a doc leaf in Winnipeg. Oohh, a berry I’ve not tried before! I try to gently break the skin with my teeth so as to have the smallest drop of juice to test on my lip, but the berry is so ripe and full that the juice squirts into my mouth, and it is poison! My lips and tongue instantly tingle and I pray I didn’t accidentally swallow any of the bitter juice. I spit and spit, chew up some nettle leaves and spit and spit, I think I have all traces of the poison out of my mouth and take a picture of that berry for future reference! I guess now I’ll wait and see.
The trail is coming to an end but there, blocking the path are four men and a woman. They are Native Americans, and as I get closer I see that they are already drinking beer at this early hour of the morning. I wonder if they have just started drinking or if they have already been drinking all night, and I wonder how I will proceed.
Why don’t you tell the rest of this story…. and if you’d like to know what really happened, see my next post!