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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