Last night Asa was looking for a project. I suggested that we write a story together. He said that would be a great idea. He said, I'll write one line, then you write a line. When he came to me to write my line he said, no looking at what I wrote. So that's how the writing came to be disjointed. Truth be told, I did peek before I wrote my last sentence. Maybe a disjointed story isn't out of the norm anyways - for many of us we live with many plot lines at work, and they intermingle to be the story arc. Enjoy this short story, once upon a time . . .
Once upon a time
There was a farmer who owned an old tractor, an old old tractor. And he wanted to fix it, and he wanted to polish it. But it was stolen.
Blue and red, they are colors on my bed, they run along in my head, like ribbons holding in the dreams.
It was taken deep into the Misty Mountains where the creature Gollum lived with it for 500 years until the most unlikely creature you could possibly think of found it. It was a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins…… 60 years later
THE FELLOWSHIP of the TRACTOR,
Began with a trip to Louisville, Kentucky, to see a dream specialist. His office was directly beneath the roaring crowd assembled in Freedom Hall to see the tractor pulling finale.
In that arena Bilbo Baggins appeared, with a tractor huffing purple and pink smoke, with lightening white flames shooting up its smoke stacks. What triumph would come for Mr. Baggins today?
And He lived happily ever after for the rest of His days. And who knows what happened to the old farmer.