Five story beginnings. I don’t have the time or energy to write five whole stories, but maybe the start will be good enough. As you read these, please keep in mind that they haven’t been edited. The stories aren’t really formed. If you would like to comment, the most useful thing for me to hear would be which beginnings make you want to read more.
Some said they saw its beginnings as the sky darkened the night before. Still, no one seemed prepared, that morning, to offer any explanation for what they found. Fifteen centimeters deep, a thick grayish mist hovered over the ground. If they looked very hard they could still see the outlines of their feet, which had disappeared below the ankle as soon as they stepped outside.
It was a little bit cold, although not as damp as expected. It was startling, certainly, and made them rather nervous, but as more of them ventured beyond their doors, they found that strange razor-toothed creatures were not waiting below to chomp on their feet. So they went about their days.
I knew the dream was strange, but as soon as I began to wake I forgot it entirely. I was trying to hold on to the shreds of its images as consciousness rose, to no avail. Giving up, I turned over, opening my eyes slowly to the soft light of morning. I had no idea what time it was, as my phone was the only clock available near my bed, and it seemed to have shut off during the night. Sure that I had overslept (although I couldn’t remember where I was supposed to be), I groaned and stretched and braced myself for standing.
In the cozy, bright kitchen–but not too bright, I just let sunlight come in and skipped the lightswitch–I brewed up a pot of coffee. I was too tired to notice what kind, but I made sure to measure it out correctly. If my coffee was undrinkable, the whole day would be ruined. Something was strange that day. I was trying to figure it out, but nothing came to mind. Perhaps, after my coffee…
Some time later–still had not found a clock–I was sitting in the sun-drenched, spacious, clean living room, coffee on a coaster, halfway through my plate of eggs on toast, when I realized, quite abruptly, that this was not my life.
She had killed the vampire. She was still alive, still mobile, and she had taken care of business.
That was when she really started to panic.
Rain fell steadily, just enough to make the ground a little slippery as I trotted along the sidewalk in my heeled boots. I had forgotten an umbrella. That is, there may have been one in my bag, but I couldn’t stop to dig around in there. I glanced back quickly, and sped up just a little. I was sure he wasn’t following me. Almost. But he had been there for ten blocks.
In the end, everything looked fine. He sat on the porch, sipping tea from a chipped old mug. A magazine lay open on his lap, but he was not reading it. Instead, he stared at a photograph on the table beside him. The people in that picture looked happy. He thought they looked happy. They were not smiling. He tried to remember what had happened.
It was like trying to catch a fish with his hands. He could touch the memories, but they would not stay. One after the other, they slipped from his grasp and swam upstream.
Weren’t we happy? he thought.
The tea was getting cold. He had gazed for too long.
So there you go. Five intros. Or intros to intros. I have no idea if I’ll continue any of these. Which was your favorite? Tell me! Vote!