If Nothing Else, I Will Have at Least Written This Sentence: Sentences from an Unwritten Novel

It was time to step away and invest sentences into the actual thing.

She packed up and vacated the offices of her past for a much better lease on the future.

Deposits had been made, checks had been cashed, and now all of his accounts were overdrawn.

He was as casual in casual conversation as it gets.

She had a voice--the kind that could translate well via live stage, recording studio, smart phone, walkie talkie, tin can....

He had been hoping for a little more asteroid.

After a long pause, he ordered a Happy Meal and a chocolate shake topped with whipped cream and a procrastination berry.

Hopping backward to a younger, carefree day, she sprang forth with confidence and joy.

The days, weeks and months were mapped upon his haggard face like the imprint of a wrinkled sheet.

Given to daydreams, he often found that his focus on the moment had to wait for a minute.

She looked a little bit like Monica Vitti with a bad perm.

He loathed the expression rusted shut .

He sat on the couch near the back window, drinking his coffee with a closed book on his lap, and listened.

Her opinions and observations concerning the crumbling infrastructure of a lost and reeling society were sure to be a best seller.

He shamelessly lied to himself about the reputable clinical research that supported the benefits of including a coffee cake muffin with a cream cheese center in one's daily morning diet.