None But Eagles

Could Look Him In The Face

  • 9th
  • September
  • 2011

I have a two-page story due next Thursday. The first line must be: “How came it that God had not struck him dead?” and the last line must be: “I would have followed him, but he said no.” Both are lines taken randomly from a short stack of books the professor brought to class with him; the first is from James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and the second is from Anita Desai’s Journey to Ithaca. We are allowed liberties with the punctuation, which I may take. I started writing from the end and it’s starting to feel like Anita Brookner, but now the first paragraph is growing into something Thomas Hardy–esque. I want to take God out of it but I’m not sure how. I must also, somewhere, include the word “red.”

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