The first sentence of any novel works as an invitation into a new world. Sometimes that invitation is so powerful that the sentence itself takes on a life of its own.
And why should I be cold, my lad,
And why should you repine,
Because I love a dark head
That never will be mine?
“This new analysis paints a devastating picture of what our world will look like if fracking and fossil fuel infrastructure buildout aren’t halted soon.” —Dr. Sandra Steingraber
Here is the little tramp, standing
On a stack of books in order
To reach the microphone