There's a growing trend to publish the first lines of books as a kind of filler in newspapers and magazines, even at blog sites. So here are a few of my first lines from short stories.
The Thing at 34-03-15N, 118-15-23W (The Colorado Quarterly): "I can hear them out there."
Fragments Before the Fall (The Literary Review): "I WALK a tightrope between two mountain tops over the Valley of the Waters of Fire."
PRESENTING THE ANNUAL INTERRACIAL PIG ROAST (Prism International): "GROOVY, THE WHOLE SCENE, even better than his short-timer's party in Baumholder, Germany, a year ago: the roast pig, which Tee was still carving, his large black hands glistening with fat; the colossal supply of beer and booze, which Phil was serving from behind the portable bar in the back comer of the yard (grass was verboten, Tee being straight); the huge happy crowd, predominantly black, predominantly middle-aged, incredibly friendly; and the sounds, out of sight, of the jazz combo on the patio; and the dancing, which Roy dug most of all, that sensuous and rhythmic elasticity which was theirs alone (man, how they could dance!)."
The Idaho Jacket (Prism International): "RICHARD, realize one thing: I am beginning to wear the Idaho jacket comfortably now. "
Lessons from the Cockroach Graveyard (Expression): "THE OLDER I GET, the less I understand women."
The Wallowa County Who-Who (The Portland Review): "No one knows when the first spotted owls alighted in Wallowa County."
The Teacher (The Colorado Quarterly): "If I were a menial clerk, to whose gloom a Dostoevski or a Melville could give cosmic importance, then readily would I win your understanding. "
The Sextant (Northwest Review): "In grade school the teachers always asked us what our fathers did, and I had learned to reply simply, My father is at sea."
Find short stories here.
