Mad Lib Story Thread

...stopped cold in her tracks and turned around to face this person who had called her by a name vaguely familiar to her.

"Trudy, don't you remember me?" he asked.
"I am, I am....trying to remember," she said, but she couldn't.

She thought to herself, "Trudy....Trudy. That's not my name.
My name is Raven, Raven Fortitude.......I think."
At least she...
 
[At least she] still had half the Camel. She put it to her lips and pulled the smoke deep into her, squinting through haze and layers of wishy-washy memory here under the electric light of midnight outside Monnie's Crowbar in New Mexico. The man, wavering a moment ago, now stepped closer and she held her ground.

"Trudy. Listen. I need you to come home now." These words were thick, getting thicker at the end, pitch-shifting down into grotesque tones. The image of the man before her flickered like a glitchy hologram. Thunder roared miles away, followed by heat lightning. In the space between the sound and the light, the overhead electric light buzzed out, and a strange, descending tone came from everywhere at once, seemingly.

As if she inhabited some shimmering, flickering Pink Floyd universe, the voice continued, delayed and tweaked: "I need you--to come home--to come home--I need you--I need you--to come--home--home--home." Trippy, thought the woman, and in that moment the flash of a more whole name came to her: True Dove Raven Fortitude. Behind her, the neon title of the bar sputtered and fritzed, leaving a new name for the place. With more than half the letters gone, the pink flourescence now spelled: "I ' Crow."

A clue?
 
(Kewl, Pathless. WB to your thread--was wondering if you'd stop by! :))

Pathless said:
[At least she] still had half the Camel. She put it to her lips and pulled the smoke deep into her, squinting through haze and layers of wishy-washy memory here under the electric light of midnight outside Monnie's Crowbar in New Mexico. The man, wavering a moment ago, now stepped closer and she held her ground.

"Trudy. Listen. I need you to come home now." These words were thick, getting thicker at the end, pitch-shifting down into grotesque tones. The image of the man before her flickered like a glitchy hologram. Thunder roared miles away, followed by heat lightning. In the space between the sound and the light, the overhead electric light buzzed out, and a strange, descending tone came from everywhere at once, seemingly.

As if she inhabited some shimmering, flickering Pink Floyd universe, the voice continued, delayed and tweaked: "I need you--to come home--to come home--I need you--I need you--to come--home--home--home." Trippy, thought the woman, and in that moment the flash of a more whole name came to her: True Dove Raven Fortitude. Behind her, the neon title of the bar sputtered and fritzed, leaving a new name for the place. With more than half the letters gone, the pink flourescence now spelled: "I ' Crow."

A clue?
Click to expand...
 
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