This is the first line from another novel I am writing ;
I woke up just as the sun was setting, its red dying light shining through the yellow nicotine stained net curtains that hung from the widows in the motel room where I lay, stark naked on sweat stained white cotton sheets, wondering just who I was, where I was and how I had got here.
Saturday, 26 November 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment