Two-Line Tuesday

Here are my two lines from Cry Wolf by Tami Hoag.

Behind them, on the banks, the weeping willows, boughs bowed as if by grief,and the live oak with their twisted trunks and gnarled branches, looking like enchanted things eternally frozen in a moment of agony. And from their contorted limbs hangs the moss, gray and dusty and tattered, like old feather boas left to rot in the attic of some long-forgotten,long-ruined mansion.

And my two lines:

I stared at the red angry wounds of my face, stitched together like some macabre quilt. My usually long, graceful legs encased in cold steel had been rendered useless.

For more Two line Tuesdays head over to the Women of Mystery.