Every day I will write the very beginning of a story, a paragraph or a whole page, without worrying about where it might lead. "Nulla dies sine linea," I hope!
Saturday, January 3, 2015
326
The tiny town of Harborsfeld just wasn't the same after they attempted to execute Jacob Frier. The townsfolk tried to comfort themselves with the fact that he wasn't dead, but the intent was difficult to overcome. Some found limited comfort in repeating that the attempt was justified, given what they knew, and the circumstances, but it would take a mighty duplicitous mind to make that particular comfort stick. No, the tiny town of Harborsfeld now held within it a collective guilt and shame, which would drive many away.
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