Wednesday, September 9, 2009

That Last Glass Music

Every morning I read over what I wrote the day before as a start to the new day's work. Puts me back in the frame and lets me fix yesterday's blind spots.

Today, one of yesterday's sentences sounded like a country music song. It's from Chapter 24, lined out the way the phrases sound when I read it:

She couldn’t think now
why she’d thought last night
that the last glass
was such a good idea.


Sounds like a refrain, I think, with an up-and-down on 'idea'. I can almost hear the music...

Locally brewed bock beer at the Faust Hotel in New Braunfels.
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