Audience Participation Time!

[eurydicebound]

This is a meme, lifted directly from greyjoy. I've got enough creative types on here that the results should be interesting. :)

"Things Need Not Have Happened to be True" - Neil Gaiman

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a completely made up, fictional memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - but it has to be fake.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph in your LJ and see what your friends come up with.

Comments

[heronymus-waat.livejournal.com]

Well, the thing I remember most about you is how nice you were, that one time when I was stranded near Oklahoma City and you were so cool about coming out to the university campus, meeting up with me, and we split my picnic lunch on the shore of the pond, and you so kindly bought me a tank of gas, even though I couldn't repay you for it.

I always meant to swing back by, but I was 17 and stupid and right after that my life blew up, and by the time I was back in the neighborhood again you'd already moved on to the greener pastures of the Pacific Northwest. I did write a couple of letters, like I said I would, but they never got mailed, and when I found them years later in the runup to my move, I didn't even know if you were still there.

I remember being so nervous about meeting a stranger, and how hard I tried to make you laugh, and how rewarding your laugh was when I finally managed to get one out of you. I remember the sun being so, so hot and how amazing your hair looked as it soaked up the heavy rays, the black of it drinking in everything, like a movable shadow.

It could have been a really awful and lonely day, stranded so far from home, but you made it a good day, and for that I thank you. I wish I'd've told you that earlier.

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

You and me at the Catwalk, you in denim and leather, me in leather and lace. And that hot guy in the harness.

Really. I shouldn't say anymore. This is a family show.

[bodybag-pilgrim.livejournal.com]

My favourite?

That'd probably be during the year I was seconded over to the American Bureau of Enchantment, Thaumaturgy and Firearms as MI13 liason officer. Most of it was desk duty, but the time we parasailed from Liberty Island onto that zeppelin the Republic of Texas Resurgent were using as a focus for remote radioactive hex detonation stands out; the swords-and-cantrips duels we fought atop the zeppelin, the sexually charged intensity of the moments just following the destruction of the circle within...

Most of all, though, I remember once the work was done. I remember standing beside you looking out from the front of the control room as sunset flared hot and sweet and crimson, the Naval counter-submarine sigils blazing aquamarine to highlight the ocean, taking turns to sip from my hip flask of well-aged single malt...

[masqlab.livejournal.com]

The double date we arranged when we were young and stupid. Remember I was so bad at darts that I actually hit my date in the arm (God, you'd think I could remember his name now!) and we had to take him to the emergency room. He never called back...

[electricland.livejournal.com]

I remember drinking coffee with you in this tiny, very brightly-lit diner with jukebox controls at every table, somewhere in Saskatoon. It was about 3 in the morning and we were solving the world's problems while trying to build a castle out of sugar packets; we must have stolen all the sugar packets from every table we could reach. I just remember giggling hysterically and having the best time and thinking we should do this all the time, but it's the kind of thing that only happens once in a while, isn't it? God, that was fun. They also had incredible brownies.

[exilesletter.livejournal.com]

Lying disheveled on your bed at 2:40 a.m. after we had returned from clubbing -- neither you nor I were the clubbing sort then, and we'd been so shocked at what a good time we'd had. I had ringed your eyes in black and the makeup looked even hotter smudged. My hair was a sweaty, matted mess. I knew I had to get home -- we had to work the next day -- but it was so late and we were so tired and neither of us could stop laughing.

[fortinbras16.livejournal.com]

Well, most of the night was a blur, but I remember the limerick contest at that bar around 1:30 (at least I assume it was 1:30, because I remember last call being just a little while after that. You said something about the bars back home being open much later, but we midwesterners get drunk by midnight and get rolled out the door by 2:00). Anyway, it was universally agreed you won the contest, because you actually managed to shock Pete at the bar.

I was useless for work the next morning, of course, and by the time I clocked out, you would have already been well on your way to St. Louis.