Dear Colleagues,
I just opened John Sandford's book "Mind Prey" (1995) to Chapter One.  Here's
the opening paragraph for you to consider: 
	"The storm blew up late in the afternoon, tight gray clouds hustling over the
lake like dirty, balled-up sweat socks spilling from a basket. A chilly wind
knocked leaves from the elms, oaks, and maples at the water's edge. The white
phlox and black-eyed Susans bowed their heads before it."	

A moment to share.
Martha



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