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, September 15, 2014
277
The search party's voices were ripped apart by the wind and smothered by the icy snow, but still they kept on for hours after dark. Groups had already returned to the Inn Malcolm to report and defrost by the common room's enormous hearth. None had good news. The last group to return was the one lead on past sense by Fulcrum, Hannah's older brother. Fulcrum had not wanted to return, but with the snows worsening, it was only a matter of time until search parties would be needed for them, and the group pleaded with the grieving brother's common sense.
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