Diptych

Monday, August 07, 2006

One of those blog things

  1. Grab the nearest book.
  2. Open the book to page 123.
  3. Find the fifth sentence.
  4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
  5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

        The rest of that ride is scattered bits and pieces of memory that come and go, most of it sounds and smells: MiGs roaring past overhead; staccatos of gunfire; a donkey braying nearby; the jingling of bells and mewling of sheep; gravel crushed under the truck's tires; a baby wailing in the dark; the stench of gasoline, vomit, and shit.
        What I remember next is the blinding light of early morning as I climbed out of the fuel tank. I remember turning my face up to the sky, squinting, breathing like the world was running out of air.

GO!


Comments:
Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini.

I haven't read it yet, but my wife set it down on the table next to me.
 
"... No, we are on the true scent now."
It tended down towards the riverside, running through Belmont Place and Prince's Street. At the end of Broad Street it ran down to the waters edge, where there was a small wooden wharf.

(from _The Compete Sherlock Holmes_)
 
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