Monthly Archives: February 2014

Paragraph of the Week (Part 30)

Some of you guys might be wondering if I died. I am sorry to inform you that, no, no I have not died. Yet, anyways. Again, I’m going to try to get out more blog posts, maybe even some…GASP…non-paragraph of the week posts. Until this becomes a reality, enjoy this weeks paragraph of the week. And if you can’t remember the story before this, and I don’t blame you if you can’t, you can always check them out in the archives.

“So, you asked me to lunch and then to retrieve a mysterious object,” Jacques said, “what else will be on our itinerary for the day?”
John shrugged. “Have to see if we get the key back and if you will actually talk.”
“The key? Oh monsieur, you don’t mean…”
“She always wore it around her neck. It was the only thing left after the fire. I’ve worn it every day since then. You remember it, remember her wearing it, right?”
“Of course, it never left her body.”
“I could never figure out why she loved the thing, even she didn’t know. Every time I asked her, she said she couldn’t remember where she had gotten it from, just that she had it ever since she was a little kid. When I doubted her once, she whipped out a picture of when she was four and showed me the thing. And there it was, plastered around her neck.”
“She was a good woman.”
“Too good.” John sighed.
“You know, I’ve never really ——”

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Paragraph of the Week (Part 29)

Between work and school, I tend to forget about the blog here. But not completely! We’re still chugging along here, and we will be for a long time. Now, I won’t keep you guys from the next paragraph. Here it is.

The street lights popped on and yellow light filtered in through the bare tree limbs. John glanced up at the snow flakes that momentarily blocked out slivers of light, moving his hand to his chest and feeling the emptiness. A pigeon sat on top of the post. It burrowed its beak into its feathers, pecked at them and whatever else was nestled close to its body. A feather fell, drifting down and landing on the sidewalk. John watched it, stepped over it, and feigned a smile.

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