NEW!!! The First ATS Collaborative Fiction Contest, page 1

An example for a two-member team working a story;

1. Evelyn saw the signs. Horsetail clouds, stretching from a hazy white western horizon to the dark blue sky above were a portend she had always heeded. Guessing that the inevitable storm was heading her way could be deduced by reversing the long fingers of wispy 'hair' pointing east. The fields of summer wheat undulated, looking for all the world like waves upon a sea of green. Far away and over the low hills, beyond the cold meltwater creek which bisected their ten thousand acres, she knew her husband Sam and his three hands would be on horseback, cutting spring calves from the herd for the yearly ritual of ear tagging and innoculation. They would be gone another day or two, she reckoned, camping under the open skies. She smiled as she recollected past homecomings... rough men, dusty and slouching from the corral to the bunkhouse, sore from days spent in the saddle but smiling, eyes sparkling in sunburnt, unshaved faces. Dragging their saddles and gear, they would not show up to the sprawling ranchhouse until they'd cleaned up and whetted their thirst with a few beers over a poker game, giving her ample time to prepare a feast of roast beef, fresh baked bread, pies and other delectables this hungry bunch would quickly devour.

Her smile faded, though, as she once again viewed the threatening skies. Tomorrow morning, she guessed, and the storm gathering over the distant Rockies would be upon them. Putting her back to the window, she turned her attention to the meal she would prepare for the other ranch hands busily working the garden plots, tending horses and other duties which made this operation so successful.

2. Sam pulled his black Stetson down upon his forehead as he gazed towards the distant line of mountains drifting what seemed to be above the rolling foothills. Grimacing, he leaned back in his creaking saddle as the chestnut quarterhorse pawed at the sod below. Holding the reins taut in his hand, he turned to watch the men lasso another wild calf, bringing it to ground with a jerk. The youngest of the bunch, Luke, was quick to dismount, tie its kicking legs and throw his arms apart in a style that brought a slight grin to Sam's face. He knew that Luke was practicing for next years Calgary Stampede and a trophy belt buckle. Such eager young men were to be treasured.

Dropping the reins and gently pushing his knees into the horse's sides, he turned the three year old mare toward the nearby Bow River to fetch water for tonights meal. The men should be fed well tonight, he figured, since tomorrow held the threat of rain and wind or worse. Old hands never took their eyes off the skies in this hard place, where home is an old canvas bell tent and a good warm fire a fleeting luxury during these cold Alberta nights.

(to be continued)