Lauren Oliver would like to thank all her wonderful fans for the submissions for the writing challenge. There were so many amazing entries she has picked two winners, congratulations to Natalie Geoffroy and Valerie Armour, who were the winners for part one!
Part two is now open to us all again, and a quick reminder of the rules!
You have one week to turn in your 200 words for the next part of the story so that’s July 16th everyone! By submitting your entries you are giving Lauren Oliver the right to alter them (lightly) as she sees fit to work with the story. All entries for the challenge are to be sent to email@example.com in the main body of the email, so no attachments people.
So here is where you pick up, the story is bellow, it’s up to you to decide the next 200 words. Good luck!
It started with a rumble, a roar, a whistle, and the earth shook with the effort of keeping the train on its surface. The train was radiant in the dying sun, spraying colors off the emerald sides so that Molly had to shield her eyes just to watch. But the best part, the absolutely most wonderfully breath-taking part of the whole thing, was the fact that it was braking.
The emerald train was stopping in front of Molly’s house.
Excitement building, she ran from the window, leaped down the grand staircase,
passed butlers and maids and other people who did not notice the girl flying out the door
of the four-story mansion. Rushing across the gravel walkway, Molly skidded on her
heels, nearly toppling into the stone fountain.
She felt her jaw drop as her eyes rose to the emerald train stopped in her garden. It was immense, looming, giant, and yet, it was beautiful. For the first time all day, for the first time she could ever remember, Molly felt rather small.
Molly stretched onto her toes, straining to make out the words on the side of the train. She could just make out the words “WALNUT’S WONDROUS” in thin gold lettering, reaching toward the sky, when the train door burst open and. BAM.
Molly jumped. To her delight, she saw a flood of brightly colored acrobats pouring from the train cars. Music danced in the air, pounding an infectious rhythm through Molly’s bones. She was so transfixed she did not immediately notice the large, dark man who came after them. But soon she felt someone staring at her, and she turned.
There was something wrong with his eyes. One eye looked as dark as the London night, but the other… the other was not real. It was a walnut, carved to resemble an eye. His mouth quirked up at the edges as Molly stared back in fascination, and although she couldn’t hear him over the music, she knew what he said when he opened his mouth.
He said, “Welcome”.