First Lines

Harry sat in the Fiesta cafe, drinking their watered-down excuse for coffee and trying desperately to will himself toward sobriety.
 
Out of all the books in his library, he liked that one the best: After all, no other book literally gave him the means to enter another world.
 
Maya surveyed the devastation around her and wondered idly if her response had been a little too aggressive.
 
I was spinning around and around watching the world fly by in a blur. colors, shapes, people running together. Then I stopped and fell to the dirt. Why is it even when I'm not spinning nothing in the world makes sense to me? Why is it even if I'm perfectly still I still feel like I'm on a roller coaster ride that I can't get off? Unfortunatly for me my roller coaster was going to get faster before it stopped.
 
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You're poems and lines always ring true, Mirinda. I actually had a very similar line in my poem:

I am barely standing
The world is rushing past


Spooky, eh? :eek:
 
I stood in the doorway of the funeral parlor staring at the open casket just feet away from me. The casket contained one of the people in my life who raised me from an infant. So why did I feel immense relief seeing his body lying cold and lifeless in front of me?
 
And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose and got firmly stuck.
 
He stared into the mug of coffee, at the small bubbles drifting lazily around in circles, and wondered when his time would come.
 
The loose mottled skin of the half rotted corpse shivered, quaked, then began to undulate as if blown by some spectral wind.
 
Water dripped slowly from the tap onto the bottom of a saucepan, and with every beat he grew more and more concerned that something was wrong.
 
The blood ran along the edge of the blade, collecting at the tip in a swelling teardrop that finally succumbed to gravity and gently fell onto her cold, lifeless cheek.
 

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