I had no idea that it has been so long since the last time I made use of the Random Book Prompt.
Which would be my way of letting you know that today we shall use the first line of a book, randomly chosen, as the opening of our prose. From there, after giving credit where it is due, we shall go where our imaginations take us.
Feel free to click the label to see previous examples. In case, you know, that description was so terrible that you need additional assistance.
On my day off I slept half the morning away. The other half was spent watching Max so that Kat could also get some rest. Then I helped Kat's parents put the nets on the cherry trees in the afternoon, and after dinner I finally mowed the lawn - because it really, really needed it.
So... yeah, not feeling particularly rested. If you'd seen the first draft of this opening you would not have needed me to tell you that (holy Typo City... which strikes me as a pretty good prompt, actually). I think I shall go to bed early.
419 by Will Ferguson
A car, falling through darkness. The rush of air through open windows, forcing out all other sounds. Driver and passenger expressionless, though their postures convey more than they wish.
Outside the countryside slips past, unseen. Rolling fields, abandoned farmhouses, a lone owl hunting for prey. The narrow road continues its descent, carrying the rattling car and its occupants closer to the edge of the continent.
At the coast a town awaits their arrival. No streetlights illuminate its roads and buildings, the moon remains hidden behind lingering clouds. Only a single porch light battles the gathering night, though no souls brave the November chill to witness its struggle.
Within the home, however, a man is awake. He is waiting, but not patiently. He alone is expecting the arrival of the oncoming car and its two silent men. He knows what they want and how they plan to get it.
And he is furious.