Who wouldn’t have fun at the Fun O Rama in York, Maine? We are writing the opening lines for the picture below. Join in by adding your own opening lines.
Edith: I never expected that the boy I met in Fun O Rama — the boy with the robot arms, the boy my cousin told me was brilliant, the boy who became a physicist — to end up not only my first husband but my first victim.
Jessie: Ninety-eight degrees the last weekend in May. On the coast of Maine. The shadowy depths of the Fun O Rama called to passersby in need of relief. Once inside they felt a chill that reached like January into their bones. Groans and soft cries filled their ears and as their eyes adjusted to the gloom they realized they wouldn’t be having any fun after all.
Sherry: I turned back and looked at my pregnant wife. I tried to yell, “It’s the sand. Don’t step on the sand.” But it was already too late.
Barb: The Fun O Rama was Full O Drama that night.