From
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melwil. The first and last sentence/paragraph of my last ten finished and published stories, beginning with the most recently archived.
Irresistible ForceF: My name is Jessica Reislander. I have a master's degree in sociology and anthropology from the University of Waterloo. My graduate thesis, on the cultural response to violent crime within Toronto's Portuguese community, was hailed as an impressive achievement: it earned me a few hearty back-pats from my professors, my name engraved on a couple of plaques, and the somewhat useful sum of $500. What it did not earn me, however--and I really should have known this when I started--was a job.
L: But only until the next time he picks up a gun.
SfumatoF: I am doing push-ups on the floor of the cell, working hard-won arm and leg muscles that I dare not lose, when the buzzer sounds within my glass cage. In spite of Sydney's absence -- or perhaps because of it -- someone has come to visit me.
L: And I see his step falter, for just an instant, as he walks away.
CryF: Not so very long ago, he'd thought it the most irritating sound in the universe.
L: Listening, with a satisfaction he would never have thought possible, to the sound of his daughter's cry.
EpiphanyF: Severus Snape sat down heavily in the chair before the fire, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
L: "His name is Albion."
Whirlpool HeartF: It took Michael Vaughn a long time to drown.
L: It was going to take a little longer to drown, it seemed.
Lessons (since this was co-authored, the last line given here is not the last line of the story, but rather the last line I personally wrote)
F: Something had gone wrong today; she could see it in his face.
L: "...you're going to be a father."
Ties That BindF: Sometimes, in the deep black silence of midnight, a thought comes to you unheralded, unbidden. One minute you lie half-asleep, floating in the haze between waking and dreaming; the next finds you sitting upright with eyes open, mouth gaping, appalled by realization.
L: Then he went home to bed.
War WoundsF: It should be about the right time, he thought. The Battle of Hogwarts had ended two weeks ago, and she'd been out of the hospital for a good few days now. Of course, the doctors had told her to go easy for a while yet, but that was fine with him; he'd no intention of taxing her strength, just taking her for a bit of an outing. She needed that, whether she knew it or not. And if she got to feeling a bit wobbly she could just lean on his arm, and devil take what anyone might think of it.
L: "Then I'll make sure to put you in the
front of the conga line," she said, and they walked off down the path together.
The Thing With FeathersF: If anyone had suggested to him, even three months ago, that he might fall in love with one of his students, Severus Snape would have laughed -- scornfully and with absolute sincerity -- in that person's face.
L:
Mad-Eye Moody, do your worst, he thought.
I'm ready.Darkness & Light 3: If We SurviveF: There is a hush over the countryside this evening, a mystical stillness that hints at the coming of rain. A rumpled blanket of cloud, heavy with warmth and moisture, unfolds itself from the east; to the west the sun sinks toward the horizon in an ecstasy of purple and gold.
L: "Yes," she says, softly, her eyes holding his dark ironical ones, her fingers twining with his. "Let's go home."
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