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!
Monday, January 9, 2012
128
The moon was a dim smudge behind the vaporous clouds. It ducked behind rooftops and peeked between bare, spindly branches. A bitter wind gusted and bit, sickened but did not die.
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