One Perfect Sentence – January Challenge is here!

[AgentPete]

I started my new year newsletter with the definitive opening clause from authors’ rights activist Charles Dickens:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”​

Which I’m sure you’ll recognize from “A Tale of Two Cities”, one of the best-selling novels of all time, and the inspiration for countless adaptations and reworkings.

Not that we presume to improve on those immortal words, of course… that would be unimaginable hubris… but we sure can riff on them!

So for this month’s contest, I’d like you to start your One Perfect Sentence with Charles’s timeless prose… and see where it leads. Perhaps in the direction of sci-fi or romantasy, humour or horror… it’s up to you.

Just write something that blows our socks off.

OK?

The sentence can be as long or as short as you want it to be. The Rules are simple.

And Then Vote!​

You can vote for as many entries as you want (you won’t be able to vote for your own).
Click on the"up" button ^ next to each entry to vote for it. The number underneath indicates the current number of votes the entry has received:
You can quickly sort all the entries to see which one is in the lead - go the the first entry after the writing prompt and click on "Sort by votes".

​

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was a pivotal moment in the story of life on Earth, it was just another love story.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, but there would be no better time to leave planet Earth behind.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, but time doesn’t even exist, at least that’s what Sydney crossed her fingers for as her ship shifted to the speed of light, signalled by the stopping of the craft’s clocks; 'Lucie loves me, she'll wait, she won't care how old I am if I… no, when I get home.'

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times and the insurance companies laughed to see such fun.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times- the tea was lukewarm and they only had plain digestives.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of change, it was the age of fixture, it was the epoch of hubris, it was the epoch of shame, it was the season of Love, it was the season of Hate, it was the spring of freedom, it was the winter of chains, we held the world in our hands, we held nothing but dreams, we were all to be Gods, we were all nothing but demons – in short, the passing of puberty is so unlike any other passing that its wildest and most diligent biographers insist on its being received, for joy or for ill, in the superlative degree of comparative states – our coming of age.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, for it was a tale of three mothers: The first having given her life to place him in this world, the second he had chosen to stand in her place, and the third saved them both from the incoming wall of water, and rode north to where the desert turned white.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and that pretty much sums it up, thought Dr Jekyll, as the transformation began.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was that precious moment when the breath is held while life itself hangs at the tipping point between a future or a never-ending past.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the worst of times, it was the best of times, it was the moment humanity sang its swansong, it was the moment mother nature began to dance.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. No, scratch that. it was the end times!

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the first day of my School Summer holidays, and the day Jasper Herriot arrived on my street.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of Times, it was the worst of Times, but the grand opening of the Main Street Library would have no Times or any other newspaper unless Mildred could figure out how to reboot the server before the doors opened to the public.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, though now the times were all owned by corporate sponsors it had become impossible to say anything negative about any of them...

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, as the keynote speaker approached the podium in readiness to address the annual conference of the Chronically Undecided Society.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, Kings and Queens danced and dined as paupers and peasants toiled and starved, but in the deep dead of night, they all desperately prayed to the same anicent and vengeful gods - but they would go unheeded, all save one.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, but I'd only know which by her tread on the stairs.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Five-thirty on the dot. Charlie Beer locked up her father's watch repair shop and grabbed her blooded axe. Plastic, of course. With red dye. A night of murder and debauchery at the library's Cluedo night called to her.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; in the year that saw David Bowie release the album Diamond Dogs, the biggest selling UK single was Tiger Feet by Mud.

 

[Anonymous]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, Beth mused, surveying the darkening black eye, the ripped shirt sleeve, the no money, the out in the streets in the slippers – but she was free... and all she had to do was run.

 

[wrightstuff]

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of change, it was the age of fixture, it was the epoch of hubris, it was the epoch of shame, it was the season of Love, it was the season of Hate, it was the spring of freedom, it was the winter of chains, we held the world in our hands, we held nothing but dreams, we were all to be Gods, we were all nothing but demons – in short, the passing of puberty is so unlike any other passing that its wildest and most diligent biographers insist on its being received, for joy or for ill, in the superlative degree of comparative states – our coming of age.

I really wish I could upvote this multiple times!