Alma Behringer never cared for alternate dimensions, estranged timelines, or wormhole portals, but there she was anyway, ever since her husband’s ghastly passing two months ago, waiting for the traveler to re-appear from behind the curtain of birch trees.
Mr Birch, the first line from a story about a man from another place
First line of the story
What is this? Inspired by photos from my camera roll, I imagine first lines of stories that doesn't exist.
"As Henry Svendsen was about to die in a hospice right outside Copenhagen, the final half second of his life turned...
"Somewhere along the way, we seem to have interchanged the prospects of not yet having fucked up with the ridiculous notion...
"Mika's place of work was, much like herself, unassuming from the outside looking in."
"Not many people know this, but raw lingonberries stirred with sugar and potato tartare goes perfectly with cured cheeks of human...