Well, I don’t have a page 123 yet, or even a page 23, but why should I let that stop me from procrastinating with the rest of you? 🙂
Page 3:
With my knife I carve runes that sorcerer taught me into the bowl, runes for travel and time. Next I empty a skin filled with whale blood into the bowl. It bubbles and is still, even as I draw a silver coin from my purse. The widow Thora’s last silver coin, stolen as the spell requires, but not without her consent. Thora knows about unwelcome marriages; she did not become a widow by chance.
Page 13:
I groaned and pulled the covers over my head. In the room’s other bed, Dad rolled over, muttered something about pyroclastic flows, and went back to sleep. He was used to this. He spent half his summers here. Me, I hadn’t been to Iceland since I was four. That was the year I got bitten by a hyperactive puffin and didn’t stop wailing until Mom and Dad bundled me onto a plane home, where I finally closed my eyes and slept. Probably because once we left the sun finally set, and I could sleep.