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Edited on Thu Jun-18-09 02:05 AM by RandomThoughts
I should look it up, but it goes something like,
Listening to the wind, he runs his hand along the wall of his home, feeling the wood, still heated from the light from the fireplace, slowly its rough texture gives way, to the smooth cold stone as he reaches the door and looks out across the night.
Or something like that. Might have been the other way around :)
Never knew wood was life, stone was death. adds more meaning to that opening paragraph.
Edit: looking up actual paragraph.
Written about 5 years ago, this was the opening paragraph of what was going to be a three novel series, but I got busy, and did not finish writing it.
Running his hand from the ageless oak support beams to the cold stone wall of his fire-lit home, Jenermith could only feel the loss of his old friends, his people the Alleahem. Like the oak, they had once been the sturdy support of the Realm.
Masters to none, choosing to cast off the trappings of greed and power, they had freed their hearts to be the servants of all. Safeguarding freedom for the many peoples of the Realm. Wielding their years of wisdom and the magic of their talents they could give a child eyes full of joy, or if warranted, an enemy a new resting place six feet under a battlefield.
Now their hearts and lives were only forgotten stories, just cold stone at the end of his fingertips.
Hows that for an opening paragraph? Was just a first draft so it could use some work.
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