To help celebrate Sheila’s launch of Golden Delicious, we’re offering an evocative picture and invite you to join us in writing an opening line or two for the story it depicts. (A version of the picture originally from maliving.com.)
Edith: After he reassembled the pile of stones, he heard a cracking sound. He peered into the woods across the road but saw no one. He scattered some of the apples from the basket, blew a kiss to his now-dead wife, and drove away. He’d eaten enough locally grown apples for a lifetime, thank you very much.
Liz: Her back was only turned for a split second, but when she looked back, Josie was gone. All that was left was her basket on the ground, deep red apples spilling out of it like blood.
Sherry: She waited crouched behind the stone wall for someone to come for the basket of apples.
Jessie: She’d been called a lot of things over the years; Evil Queen, Wicked Stepmother, Fairest in the Land but never Farm Hand. Just thinking about how low Snow White had forced her to stoop brought on a blinding rage. Perhaps that’s why she failed to notice the short little men creeping up behind her with rocks held aloft in their work-worn hands.
Julie: She was there one minute, picking apples, minding her own business. Next thing she knew, a beam of light appeared, and she was zapped to another dimension. Where the apples were pears. And the grass was yellow, as was the sky. And she saw herself, an hour ago, entering the orchard.
Readers: What’s your opening line?