It's Friday (yay)!
Get your pencils out; here comes this week's sentence.
It is taken from Bruce Chatwin's 'The Songlines':
At the bar, a big man with a purple birthmark on his neck was methodically swilling Scotches through his rotted teeth, and talking to the police patrolman whom we had met the day before at Burnt Flat.
The usual rules apply.
Have fun!
3 comments:
Too bad I'm not a writer - this one would be lots of fun to flesh out.
I know this guy. Might take you up on it when I finish whining.
Katie: I think you should have a go at one of these if you're in the mood.
Neetzy: Hee hee!
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