Date: 2012-01-12 12:29 pm (UTC)
Apropos of nothing, if I can ever write an opening sentence as good as;

The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.

Or;

The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone.

Or;

In a hole, in the ground, there lived a hobbit.

Then I shall feel that I have salvaged something from the fine-grained wreckage of all I could have been.
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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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