I love it when I can answer a frustrating, pulling-teeth day with a purely joyful writing session the next day. It’s like following a bogey with a birdie without all that walking around in cleats and Johnny Miller analyzing every yip, every tremble. He’s a pro, Johnny, he knows why he missed the putt. Today a gift from the writing gods. Not at all sure about the ending but that’s a concern for revision. Until tomorrow!
Working Title: Old Polish Saying
1st Sentence: At least your foot’s not a banana.
Favorite Sentence: Now he stares at his lovely wife, his ripe, sexy wife, with her pouty mouth and nervous energy, she of the delicate hands—hands so light they could be made of lace, hands so soft they whispered, hands like white butterflies, fingers like whiskers, like fine threads—and the incongruous, barrel-chested, cigarette-cured, stevedore laugh.
Word Length: 583
Photo here.
Daily Shorty 
Great first sentence.