Prologue

The day I met her was the day my dog died. I just stood by the side of the road, looking down at him. They'd beaten him to a pulp. 

I went out that night and that's where I met Lucy.

It's funny, you know, the face they show you when they first meet you; and the face they show you when they drop the act. We've all got out hidden sides though, haven't we? Our little secrets. But darkness has layers. You just can't see them when they're all around you.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

You said a lot in the prologue. You left the reader with mystery and questions. I like how you set-up the ending. Are you writing more? Thank you for sharing the excellent prologue.
Coyote