Opening Paragraph

I have more poems and a few vignettes to share with you soon, but this is actually what I worked on today. It goes on for two pages and 688 words, but I shall just post an opening paragraph from the draft.

It looked like a grapefruit birthing itself through my torso. Immediately admitted to the hospital, I received emergency surgery for a deadly spider bite. I couldn’t bear to look at the wound then, but photos revealed what looked like a sedimentary canyon of skin, fat, muscle, and blood, ten inches across and two inches deep. As I made daily visits to a wound clinic to be stuffed with stiff, silver gauze, I was fired from my job at a deli and dumped by my live-in girlfriend of three years.

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Too Big For Your Britches

Bruno's neck resembles pancake batter as it spills out of his shirt color while his necktie hangs loose and flaccid. It looked as though it fit him at one time, but he had gotten too fat. He came in at 10:15 AM, fifteen minutes before session and tapped me for all I had learned in the five meetings that I had been in since I had seen him yesterday at 3:30 PM shortly before he left back toward home with the female district aide.

I asked him if he had looked over the position paper I had given him. He said that he glanced at it and I knew he was lying. He asked me if the bill's sponsor had donated to the campaign, and I said that they had. The female district aide had intervened, saying that the bill's opposition would likely give him more for his next campaign, and he went with her as he always does when she has anything to say, which is seldom but still too often.

I had fifteen minutes to explain a days worth of work. I'll have to put the rest of into a position paper and hope without expecting that it will get read. That job had fit me at one time, but I've gotten too big for my britches too.

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