So I wanted to start this story out with something that would grab people's attention - who doesn't right? This attempt ended up turning into an excercise in starting a story with one line and then going from there. My question is would any of these paragraphs work for grabbing your attention and why or why not? zb Letters from ex-wives are never a pleasant experience. This was the third one that Mickey had received this month to inform him that he was behind on this payment or that still needed to sign those documents. He was tired of the logistics that attended his defunct marital experience and was ready to just throw his hands up in the air and go down for a name change…that could solve it couldn’t it? “Ah well,” he murmured. Life had handed him lemons and he wasn’t trying to make lemonade anymore. He let the letter fall to the fire and took another drag on his unfiltered cigarette. He pulled the cig away from his mouth and looked at it. “Unfiltered” he mused – “That’s really living on the edge.” He shook his head and flicked it into the fire – he knew that this was something that could never really fill the void in his life, but he’d been down those roads and he was tired of fighting to stay on them. Pain doesn’t die and his pain had been smoldering for so long. Not that Mickey didn’t have a lot of potential…or maybe that’s the problem he did have a lot of potential…and so little achieved. Letters from ex-wives are never pretty affairs. This one was no exception. Marlene was going to be taking the kids and moving up to Washington State to be with her mother…he didn’t care. He was prohibited from seeing his kids anyway, so the farther away the fewer temptations to see them; at least that what Mickey told himself. But, he knew better, and so did she. She wanted him to … Letters from ex-wives are never pretty affairs. For some reason every word always seems dipped in poison waiting maliciously to sicken their reader. Mickey was no fool and he knew that the words were written to be honest and informative. Still, he had to fight back the fury that was rising inside. She wanted to move with the kids to Washington allowing him to see them for 6 weeks twice a year. “What kind of Father would that make me?!” Mickey shook his head, the legal work had already gone through and, like usual, she had decided to tell him after it was already a done deal and all they needed was his signature. He crumpled the letter and chucked it in the low burning fire in his newly acquired condominium apartment. There had to be some way to get around this – to make it so that his children would have him for a father. Letters from ex-wives are never pretty affairs. Mickey had received enough of them to know that this one would be no different. Sign this or pay that…why couldn’t she just leave him alone? He had received this one right as he finished packing his 1973 Ford Scout. Not wanting to rob the letter of the time (or the emotion) that he knew it would require he tucked it into the zipper pocket of his photography bag. Surely, there would be time to review its contents once he arrived at Mesa Verde, after the sun goes down you can only take so many pictures of a campfire and the area it lights. Now the letter was buried with the rest of his stuff and he had forced his mind to move on to other topics. He knew that it was only a matter of focus and if he could get his focus off Jeanette then his life would be so much the better right now. So he thought about his upcoming trip to the middle of Colorado. Several of the photographs from his last wilderness trek had fetched a decent price and he would give anything to open another exhibition. Perhaps this would give him some of the material he needed for just that.