When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim s warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.
He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air. Metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. He fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. His back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the corner of the room. Sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes would soon adjust to the darkness.
PILOT FADE IN: 1 EXT. GEORGIA LANDSCAPE DAY 1 (CHARACTER NAME) AN ENDLESS VISTA:BEAUTIFUL CHECKERBOARD FARMLAND,BLAZING BLUE SKIES,DRIFTING CLOUDS. AND A HIGHWAY. CLEAN, WELL-MAINTAINED. AND EMPTY AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE. IN FACT, THERE S NOTHING MOVING AT ALL. NOTHING TO DISTURB THE SILENCE. NOTHING. UNTIL A SPECK APPEARS ON THE HIGHWAY. COMING CLOSER. THE SPECK BECOMES A COUNTY POLICE CRUISER. THE ONLY THING MOVING AS FAR AS THE HORIZON.
The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn. -The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
In fairy-tales, witches always wear silly black hats and black coats, and they ride on broomsticks. But this is not a fairy- tale. This is about REAL WITCHES. -The Witches by Roald Dahl
Dark spruce forest frowned on either side of the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean toward each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness. There was a hint in it of laughter, but of a laughter more terrible than any sadness a laughter that was mirthless as the smile of the Sphinx, a laughter cold as the frost and partaking of the grimness of infallibility. It was the masterful and incommunicable wisdom of eternity laughing at the futility of life and the effort of life. It was the Wild, the savage, frozen-hearted Northland Wild. -White Fang by Jack London
Teaser TITLE: LAWRENCE, KANSAS. 1982. 1 EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET NIGHT 1 (CHARACTER NAMES) A SMALL TOWN AMERICAN HOME ON A SMALL TOWN AMERICAN STREET. WE DRIFT UPTOWARDS A WARM, LIGHTED YELLOW WINDOW,ON THE SECOND FLOOR. AS WE FLOAR CLOSER, WE SPY INSIDE... a WOMAN. STANDING BESIDE A CRIB. SHE HOLDS ATODDLER. WHEN SUDDENLY...THE WINDOWGLASS SHIMMERS. RIPPLES,AS IF IT WERE LIQUID. JUST FOR A MOMENT. BLINK AND YOU MISS IT. INT. HOUSE - NURSERY NIGHT INSIDE THE CRIB. AN INFANT BOY,A FEW MONTHS OLD. SAM. MARY, LATE 20 s, GENTLY BEAUTIFUL IN A GENUINE, MATERNAL WAY.SHE LEANS HER 3-YEAR OLD SON, DEAN, OVER THE CRIB S EDGE. DEAN KISSES THE BABY S FOREHEAD. YOUNG DEAN Night, Sammy. NOW MARY LEANS OVER, KISSES SAM. MARY Goodnight, love.
TEASER 2 MARY CARRIES DEAN TO THE DOORWAY, WHERE HER HUSBAND JACK, 30, WAITS. JACK FLIPS OFF THE LIGHTS. JACK Sam. You sleep through the night,and you can have Dean s room. JACK LEAVES THE DOOR OPEN A CRACK. ON SAM. BEAT. THEN THE FISHER-PRICE MOBILE, ABOVE HIS CRIB, BEGINS TO SPIN, SILENT, OF ITS OWN ACCORD. ON THE DRESSER. A TEDDY BEAR CLOCK TICKS, SOOTHING. BUT THEN IT ABRUPTLY STOPS. A CASPER THE FRIENDLY GHOST NIGHTLIGHT FLICKERS
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. -1984 by George Orwell
It must have been around a quarter to eleven. A sailor came in and ordered a chile dog and coffee. I sliced a bun, jerked a frank out of the boiling water, nested it, poured a half-dipper of chile over the frank and sprinkled it liberally with chopped onions. I scribbled a check and put it by his plate. I wouldn t have recommended the unpalatable mess to a starving animal. The sailor was the only customer, and after he ate his dog he left. That was the exact moment she entered. A small woman, hardly more than five feet. She had the figure of a teenage girl. Her suit was a blue tweed, smartly cut, and over her thin shoulders she wore a fur jacket, bolero length. Tiny gold circular earrings clung to her small pierced ears. Her hands and feet were small, and when she seated herself at the counter I noticed she wasn t wearing any rings. -Pick Up by Charles Willeford