Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Favorite Passage



The scent reached my conscious brain. Not my blood. Someone else's. I tilted my head back. It didn't come through the office door, from the shop downstairs. Idiots were always busting their knuckles loosening bolts, but this wasn't a dab. It was rich, beautiful, streaming blood, the kind that made a meal worth curling up and dreaming about.

Yes, a tired title. Only the working title. Suggest a better one.

Have a great week.

-R. Mac Wheeler
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2 comments:

  1. I'm awful at titles. Sounds very intriguing though!

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  2. I'll be working on alternate titles. I like to take single words then try to make them go together. Love, love the passage!!

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