This is seven lines, starting from the seventh line on page seven of the current urban fantasy story I'm writing. It is still very rough as I'm still working on the first draft, but here's what I have at this time:
Someone stirs. Looking to tip the balance.
All the ancient deities slept, only able to connect with people in dreams or meditations.
From my slumber I cannot tell. Be careful, my child.
“I will. Thank you.”
Her presence slipped from my mind, leaving an emptiness, a longing. I thought of my daughter and my love for her eased the void.
I will now tag some of my writer friends on Twitter to see what they come up with.