First Lines, 10/07/13
First lines of the novel I won't be writing today:
"I should have recognized that smell, but I didn't. It took seeing the doctor's white lab coat before I started putting it together. A small smear of still-red blood, just above his waistline, brought an instant twinge of pain to the large incision at the base of my skull. That's when I became acutely aware that I couldn't remember my own name; on my wristband: John Doe #13."
— Damien Willis
October 7, 2013