This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.
RULES:
Grab a book, any book.
Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
Find a snippet, short and sweet.
Post it.
from Page (55 and) 56 of:
Darkness, Take My Hand by Dennis Lehane
“You got a pen?”’
“Somewhere. Let me find it.” More of that rustling sound and I knew she’d dropped the phone on the bed as she rummaged around for a pen.
Angie’s kitchen is spotless because she’s never used it, and her bathroom sparkles because she hates filth, but her bedroom always looks like she just unpacked from a trip in the middle of a windstorm. Socks and underwear spill from open drawers, and clean jeans and shirts and leggings are strewn across the floor or hang from doorknobs or the posts of her headboard. She’s never, as long as I’ve known her, worn the first wardrobe she’s considered in the morning. Amid all this carnage, books and magazines, spines bent or cracked, peek up from the floor.
Mountain bikes have been lost in Angie’s bedroom, and now she was looking for a pen.
Read Irresponsibly, but please Comment Responsibly