Once again reblogging my own post, but I want to try to get the ball rolling on this again. Howanxious and I are feeling lonely!
Let’s write a story together. I know we’re all busy, and sometimes there are just too many writing prompts and too little time. So let’s build a story brick by brick, or rather, sentence by sentence. The first lucky writer gets to start the ball rolling with any sentence he or she likes. Just post a sentence in the comments section and then we’ll just build on it, well, not to belabor the phrase, but we’ll build on it sentence by sentence. I’ll collect a week’s worth of sentences, and then post the final story next Saturday, when, if successful, we’ll start all over again. I’m crossing my fingers for some writing collaboration. I’m lonely!
a seriously writing woman 
We’ve both known what needed to be done but we kept on procrastinating until today.
He looked at me and said, “Get the gun,” but I couldn’t answer him; I couldn’t even move.
His face snap-changed from the confident conviction I knew so well, to something harder, more bitter – and he looked me in the eyes as though he could feel my hesitation like a tangible millstone around my neck, as he said, “If you are not with me, you are my enemy.”
I feared him more than respected him at that moment, and fear being a powerful motivator, I retrieved the gun from the kit, handed it to him, and waited.
I knew why it had to be done, but I couldn’t help thinking about the Minister’s family – everyone knew about his daughter, nine years old and in a wheelchair; despite his being opposed to our cause, he loved his family, and I was no longer sure he should be taken away from them.