Atypical by Emma Baird

“It was not your typical start to a Friday…”

I love the first line of a story, don’t you? It offers up such potential, but I fear my first lines often promise far more than they deliver.

Take this morning for example. I awoke with the first line in mind.

BAM – what could that mean? But as I thought about it, I realised I’d made assumptions about the word “typical”, that there was some kind of universal Friday morning experience.

Were people commuting? Were they firing up their laptops at home? Were they, gulp, golfing?

Another false start …

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