Every Tuesday, I'll be posting the opening paragraph (sometime two) of a book I decided to read based on the opening paragraph (s). Feel free to grab the banner and play along. This week's "intro" is from: The Sense of an Ending; Julian Barnes
"I remember, in no particular order:
-- shiny inner wrist;
--steam rising from a wet sink as a hot frying pan is laughingly tossed into it;
--gouts of sperm circling a plughole, before being sluiced down the full length of a tall house;
--a river rushing nonsensically upstream, its wave and wash lit by half a dozen chasing torchbeams;
--another river, broad and grey, the direction of its flow disguised by a stiff wind exciting the surface;
--bathwater long gone cold behind a locked door.
The last isn't something I actually saw, but what you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed."
What do you think? Worth continuing? (I am very intrigued and anxious to pick this up again later today).