Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Famous First Line

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Stupid government. The town hall was the only clock working on their new "world time" system. At least here. We hadn't even decided if we were converting. Unless they decided to replace all our watches, home clocks, and alarm clocks we saw no need to pay heed to the loud clanging in the center of the square.

At least the majority of us felt that way. Certainly there were some, enamored of the policies that continued to pass down from On High. They would have already made changes. Somehow. Which seemed impossible with our normal twelve hour clocks. I wanted to knock their heads together. Particularly two...

That one happened to be my father might cause problems I didn't wish to deal with. Mother tried to keep him from blows with my brother. She didn't need me adding to the problem. Only, sometimes I thought that was exactly what the town needed. Me adding to the problem. By taking out this problem. If father fell off the cliff on his way to work, for example? Well, we would be out one government toad wouldn't we?

Only I couldn't quite cause the death of anyone. Not even someone as inane as him. Not even when he knocked my brother senseless for disagreeing with his, and the acting mayor's, idea of what needed to be done about our town.

And our acting mayor? He'd become our acting mayor because something mysterious happened. Mr. Mason's sudden absence, I believe, had something similar to do with my plan for my father. The plan I wished on more than one occasion I had the courage to complete.

I truly believed Mr. Mason's body lay broken somewhere at the bottom of the cliff. Or that he fed the fish. It made me ill thinking about either. I liked Mr. Mason.

I happened to be more than fond of his son. Who hadn't stopped looking for his father long enough to say hello at the market. Which I hadn't blamed him for. Not only because of his father, though that certainly took over most of his time. No one felt like saying their usual hellos. Mostly because none of us could stop glaring at the new government issued clock.

If I couldn't kill father or the acting mayor? I might be able to kill the clock. That wouldn't bring back Mr. Mason. It might bring the government officials down on our town. But it would certainly stop the tolling of the thirteenth hour.

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