He saw each note as it fell from his clarinet. Smooth, stretched, with a smokey luster that made him think of black pearls against a woman's translucent white skin. "If I Had You," it was called, an old tune with a slow, sweet melodic line. Had he ever played this one for her?
Kissed A Sad Goodbye
I've always loved the Chicago Tribune's small book's column featuring favorite opening paragraphs. More often than I expect I am taken with an author's hook...