Some first lines:
The flowers died on Monday, and everything followed on from that.
It was a beautiful house, gambrel roof, gable windows, immaculate, and it burned a treat.
At first, Nick thought it was just a bundle of rags that had blown onto his lawn during last night's gales.
Everything else he had been prepared for, everything except the blood, the redness of it, the impossible quantities of the stuff.
He couldn't get back to sleep, but he couldn't drag himself into a complete state of wakefulness, either.
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
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