STEPHEN KING AND PETER STRAUB
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Right here and now, as an old friend used to say, we are in the
fluid present, where clear-sightedness never guarantees perfect
vision. Here: about two hundred feet, the height of a
gliding eagle, above Wisconsin's far western edge, where the
vagaries of the Mississippi River declare a natural border.
Now: an early Friday morning in mid-July a few year into
both a new century and a new millennium, their wayward courses so
hidden that a blind man has a better chance of seeing what lies
ahead than you or I.
- Black House (ch. 1) [Books (First Lines)]
On September 5th, 1981, a boy named Jack Sawyer stood where the
water and land come together, hands in the pockets of his jeans,
looking out at the steady Atlantic. He was twelve years old and
tall for his age. The sea-breeze swept back his brown hair,
probably too long, from a fine, clear brow. He stood there,
filled with the confused and painful emotions he had lived with
for the last three months--since the time when his mother had
closed their house on Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles and, in a flurry
of furniture, checks, and real-estate agents, rented an apartment
on Central Park West.
- The Talisman (ch. 1) [Books (First Lines)]
Last Revised: 2008 June 30
Copyright © 1999-2008 John C. Shepard. All Rights Reserved.
The GIGA name and logo are trademarks registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office by John C. Shepard.
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