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The Text
My iPhone beeps and I look at it automatically, reading the text message that lights up the screen. Then I read it again. And again. I almost ask Stacey to verify I’m not losing my mind. The chill of the early morning creeps through my fingertips, encircles my heart. It’s Sam. A text from Sam. But how can it be? Sam is dead.
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Rescue
I decided to rescue him the moment I realized what he was. I wasn’t supposed to do it. It wasn’t part of the plan. Seeing him, half aware, afraid, and in pain, made the plan unimportant. I couldn’t abandon him to torture and despair.
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The moment you disappeared
I would like to say I knew something was wrong, that the moment you disappeared was branded in my mind with irrevocable finality. Instead it passed amidst a string of mundane tasks, indistinguishable even in hindsight.
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On a train
I met a man on a train. He saved my life and then he died.
A note since this is my first First Sentence: a while back I began a journal of potential first sentences for as of yet unwritten stories. I thought it would be fun to post them.
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Welcome to Storying!
This blog is very much in a state of flux as I experiment with the layout, colors, and graphics. Once I’ve got all of that hammered out I will post an excerpt from the story I’m currently working on, tentatively titled, “Above the Demise of the World.”