Jessie: In New Hampshire, dreaming of spring
Before we get to the regularly scheduled post, Barb, Liz, Sherry and I wanted to take the opportunity to congratulate Julie for her Agatha nomination for Best First Novel for her debut mystery Just Killing Time. We also want to congratulate Edith as well on her Agatha Short Story nomination for A Questionable Death featuring her new historical series protagonist, Rose Carroll. Hip, hip, hooray, ladies!
How about an opening line for a poem, a short story or a novel inspired by this photograph:
Liz: It’s too bad the tide came in before the deed was done, but once his head was uncovered people started to notice.
Julie: Drinking on the beach was never a good idea. Drinking on the beach with your still pissed off ex? Deadly.
Barb: I got up early that morning to walk the beach hoping to get a head start on the day.
Jessie: After the hurricane, folks found so many strange things washed up on the shore.
Sherry: The sandman looked nothing like I expected.
Edith: After the truck full of preserved heads rolled over on Route One, it took us forever to find them all. Finally, the last one!
And thanks for the support, Wickeds! Julie and I are both so excited and thrilled.
Readers, we’d love for you to add your own opening line in the comments!
Barb and Sherry have my vote for favorite first line this time around. I laughed so hard (and I needed the laugh). Mine?
It will be fun, they said. We’ll dig you out after we take a picture, they said. And then they took off laughing. They’d better hope I never catch up to them. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.
Good one, Mark!
Barb’s made me laugh too! And don’t we all need a good laugh!
Yes, I said get your head out of the sand. You didn’t have to bury yourself first! And that question you kept pestering your father and me with all those years? Well here you go. Yes. Yes. Yes. You were adopted.
Sherry and Barb, I am glad I’d swallowed my coffee.
I saw there on that Sandy hill, a headshot of my friend’s son, Will.
My dog, Angel, loves to bury things. Bones, toys, sticks, the neighbor’s cat. Usually it doesn’t bother me. In fact, there are a few things of mine I wish she would bury. But not my husband. Or rather,not my husband’s head. If she’s going to bury him, she needs to bury ALL of him.
Ha! Love it.
Oh, Howard you silly boy. I said I need a man who’d understand,not a man who’s under sand!
My disguise for the lifeguard surveillance job was almost perfect, but I should have shaved more and left off the sunglasses.
Love it, Vida.
As I rounded the sand dune, a voice called out, “I say, I’m in a bit of a jam here. Could you lend me a hand before the tide comes in?”
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