First Lines, 03/05/14
[Photo: Korey Moore on Unsplash]
First lines of the novel I had no time to write today:
"In isolation, one isn't encumbered by apologies. She learned this quietly, and shared it with no one. Snow fell outside her window, fell until her rooftop creaked like a pair of old knees, fell until the single set of footsteps to her front porch was indiscernible from the rest of the powdery mountainside. She dropped a teabag into a Japanese teacup, considered the silence, and waited patiently for quince blossoms."
— Damien Willis
March 5, 2014
