First lines

I’ve got a  dozen of em, and here’s one – first lines to short stories which never panned out:

“On Tuesday morning Jack spotted his neighbor’s hippie wife, who used to be fey but now looks like a feral tribeswoman, running around in her sleeveless print dress, her toes pointing in all the directions of the compass after years of shoeless abandon, her legs coated in a wiry fir, her skin perpetually swathed in the dusty residue of the garden, from which she had recently emerged.


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