Just returned from a visit with my sisters. We talked about our experiences during the 1960's & 1970's. Thinking about where to begin I decided to write a working draft for scene one of the novel.
"It's strange, even bizarre when I ponder it all now." Rosemary grinned stiffly, her round eyes opened wide. In her peripheral vision she caught a glimpse of Molly frantically scribbling on a yellow notepad. She had refused Molly's repeated requests to record their meetings.
Everything had begun a lifetime ago yet sweat sprang from Rosemary's pours. Her rigid body shuddered. Voice low, barely a throaty whisper she said, "You never forget the sound of a bullet passing inches above your head..."
New post on Dubious Grief page.
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