I was wondering if you would like to take part in a collective writing game (it's more a game than something serious). I started it on a French site for learners of English, but it didn't catch on.

So, if you are interested, I'll post the beginning of my story here, and we can have fun imagining the development. But let me warn you that I am not a native speaker of English, so I beg you to forgive my mistakes.
I've tried it with a couple of people and unfortunately the story always got so twisted it's hard to keep up with the developments.

Feel free to give it a try though. Don't guarantee that we can keep up with you Emotion: smile
Good Morning julielai. Anyway, why not give a try ? As I said, it miaht be fun.
You'll see that the main character is not very defined. I stars like a sort of tale. My idea is that it should go on as a fantasy story, or maybe sci fi.

" It is the story of a boy who was different. He was not tall, he was not handsome, he was not bright, so that he was scorned and laughed at by everybody. Consequently, this boy had developped a nasty temper : he was mean, he didn't like anyone except himself. But, above all, he was very unhappy. The only being that he liked was his dog, a horrible small terrier which had the bad habit of pinching people.

One day, his parents asked the boy to tear away the old wallpaper in the attic, where they wanted to make a new bedroom (his mother was pregnant, as usual.... she already had 9 children -all of them fair and charming. It was a hard job to do, and the boy hated helping his mother, especially for a baby to come.

Well, at one moment, a whole layer of paper came down as easily as if it hadn't really been stuck to the plaster. And behind, there was a crack in the plaster, with some old filfthy piece of paper sticking out of it. The boy managed to take the piece of paper out without harming it too much. It was indeed a very, very old scrap of paper, nearly falling to pieces, with strange fading characters on it. However, the boy kept the paper, and finally he was able to decipher the ancient characters. Here is what they said :
FROM WHERE I COME
NOONE CAN GO
IF YOU FIND ME
YOU'LL BE SORRY
UNLESS YOU FIND
WHERE FROM YOU'VE COME "

So now, it's up to you, feel free to give ideas about how the story goes on, or post criticisms about it, or simply post continuations. Perhaps should I let you know that my inspiration comes from my fantasy readings : Orson Scott Card presently.

Have fun
Students: Are you brave enough to let our tutors analyse your pronunciation?
So, I'll try to go on with the story.

The boy didn't understand what was written. But, at the same time, he felt that he must keep it and hide it from everybody. Meanwhile a curious sense of danger, mixed with exhilaration and pride, overcame him. He tucked the dirty bit of paper in his pocket and set again to work, more quickly and more intently than before.
Several hours passed by. He was concentrating hard on his task something that had never happened to him so hard indeed that the sun light was beginning to dim. Two thirds of the walls were presently bare ; the floor was matted with layers of torn greasy paper ; the attic room looked more gloomy and dirty than ever. On on and the boy went on scrapping, paying no attention to the sweat running into his eyes.
But presently, he was called back to reality when he heard an angry voice :
"- Orson Scott ! You'd better come down at once ! Do you hear me ? or shall I get you by the bottom of your trousers ?"
it was his mother.