Opening lines revisited
Virginia Woolf leant over her Underwood portable, adjusted the paper feed and marshalled her thoughts. She considered the starting of a new novel as an almost mystic experience, the alchemy that ran from her thoughts to her fingertips, through the delicate metal arms of the typewriter and onto the page. She typed the opening line and sat back in her seat to let the words roll over her.
“I’m off to the lighthouse me, anyone coming?”
It might need a bit of work.