Opening lines to short stories I have never finished (yet?)
On the day my brother and I were to meet our wives I found the aluminum crutches in the attic over the library, and thus was cast backward into memories of our childhood.
“Ouch!” cried the man in front of the firing squad. “Ouch, ouch, ouch!” Then he fell to the ground, dead.
“Is this your first time in the UK?” asked the magician, which was always the question people here asked Sharpe after they’d talked to him long enough to pick up on his accent.
Ginger Sparkleshine’s eye is three hundred feet wide.
“Gentlemen,” said the scientist, “we have a situation: Google is haunted.”
Time is a strange thing — it makes all the difference between a mass murderer and a serial killer.
Sarah was on her way home from the library when she first realized there was a clown following her.
Ralph Dutch was born on a sunny summer’s day at the age of eight. The affair was a mess for all involved, particularly Mrs. Dutch, who refused to have children again.
We were just across the Vermont-Massachusetts border when my sanity began to crumble and these huge lobster-bugs came swooping out of the hills and flying around the car. “Holy hell!” I shouted. “What the fuck are these goddamn things?”
Rosemarie Ashfield lay in her bed and watched the dust motes back-flip in the blades of light that filtered through the lace curtains. She was not entirely sure what year it was, but she knew that outside on the lawn it had to be 1948.
Hello my Friend I am writing you about your account in the Auxiliary Christian Bank of Nigeria.
One morning Martin woke to discover that, much to his dismay, the entirety of his iTunes library had been converted to black metal.
Elizabeth’s first instinct, when she realized her family’s new apartment was alive, was to let her parents discover and deal with the fact on their own time. But then it ate their cocker spaniel.
My wife emitted a high, thin whistle much like a tea kettle, and also like a tea kettle, continued to do so until I took her off the stove.