Sunday, May 19, 2013

Sunday Sentence: The Coldest Night by Robert Olmstead


Simply put, the best sentence(s) I've read this past week, presented out of context and without commentary.




The barroom smelled of stale beer, human brine, cigarette smoke.  The Christmas lights were so clear they etched the air.  He looked down at his fists and they were the color of bone.


The Coldest Night by Robert Olmstead



No comments:

Post a Comment