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Death is ignoble. Poets may claim otherwise, but there is nothing heroic about its finality. Ed zippered the body bag over the now perpetually young soldier; that once virile face would haunt him for years. ………..would like feedback on this opening sentence
BINGO! thanks a lot, This episode is pivotal years later. Ed suffers from PTSD doing this stuff for decades. He partitions it away in his mind but eventually something triggers him to snap. Ed becomes a sociopath with PTSD and still works for covert groups, He trusts no one because his own agency isRead more
BINGO! thanks a lot, This episode is pivotal years later. Ed suffers from PTSD doing this stuff for decades. He partitions it away in his mind but eventually something triggers him to snap. Ed becomes a sociopath with PTSD and still works for covert groups, He trusts no one because his own agency is no better than their ‘enemies’. ed is one messed up dude, but one still with a shred empathy that appears at the most unlikely time. That helped a lot anf i may keep this line solely in the hopes an agent will read it and decide to read more
See lessDeath is ignoble. Poets may claim otherwise, but there is nothing heroic about its finality. Ed zippered the body bag over the now perpetually young soldier; that once virile face would haunt him for years. ………..would like feedback on this opening sentence
it is the opening line of a prologue for a novel. I wanted to see if it adds more emotion. Here is the first graph: Death is ignoble. Poets may claim otherwise, but there is nothing heroic about its finality. Ed groped in the cold to zip the body bag over the now perpetually young soldier; that onceRead more
it is the opening line of a prologue for a novel. I wanted to see if it adds more emotion. Here is the first graph:
Death is ignoble. Poets may claim otherwise, but there is nothing heroic about its finality. Ed groped in the cold to zip the body bag over the now perpetually young soldier; that once virile face will haunt him for years.
The thick rubber gloves of Ed?s biosuit snapped rigid in the bitter cold of the February dawn. The gentle hiss of air through his respirator drowned out most of the distant cadence of trainees chanting as they marched down icy roads: ?A yellow bird, with a yellow bill, flew upon, my window sill??
See lessLost in deep space, the crew of a rescue ship must cooperate with an alien rebels to find a way home.
works for me
works for me
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