Tuesday, January 24, 2012

First Paragraph

The woman on the ledge was wearing a nightgown. It was only 3:30 in the afternoon, but she was dressed for sleep, and the brisk spring breezes flattened the sheer nylon fabric against her body so that she looked like a legendary Greek figure sculptured in stone, immobile, on the ledge twelve stories above the city street.

- From Like Love by Ed McBain

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