Great Expectations

I would like to write a book. Not necessarily a novel, though it would be creative and fiction, but rather a collection of beginnings. I love the beginnings of stories—the really descriptive, creative beginnings that draw the readers in and force them to continue. I can handle writing the beginnings of stories, but I tend to lose focus shortly thereafter. Therefore, I hope to write a book of beginnings. And people could buy the book with understanding that it will, in fact, go nowhere. However, it will be interesting and intriguing for snippets at a time. Here are some excerpts from my forthcoming venture into the world of beginnings:


1. The cold air blew in silently through the cracked window, crept around the staggered furniture, gently touched the marble tiled floor, and remorsefully settled on the dry skin of the sleeping old woman. Death traveled by many means, but this was its favorite.

2. One bead of sweat. One lonely bead of sweat stretching down his face and hanging precariously from his chin. One deep breath. One finger. One trigger. From up here, it all finally made sense.

3. Perfection fell across the campground under the guise of nature and a sunrise that, although a daily occurrence in these parts, bore the very proof that God did exist in some form or another. It was unrivaled beauty, and it hurt.

4. “I have to tell you something, and I’ve been up for days struggling over the way to say it.” She looked away, towards the door, as if wanting to leave or expecting someone to suddenly enter and save her from this conversation. She did not leave. No one entered. Her eyes turned back to his and she was met with the unexpected stare of stability. He knew, she thought. He knows the dark that is about to encompass our lives.

5. He moved quickly through the park, stopping only long enough to second-look the small figure crawling through the concrete tube. Not her. A laugh from the swings turned his head backwards and his body slowly followed. A squint against the blinding sunset helped focus his stare. Not her. The bent metal gate rattled behind him as he moved past the playground and towards the edge of the woods. His heart raced, but he was still. “Please, not the woods again,” he whispered.

And that’s Chapter 1!

Don’t they just captivate the mind? I think I’m on to something. Maybe my next work will be a collection of endings…