A good book often opens with a great kill. Here's my shallow attempt:

Two desks stood in the corner, facing one another. The mahogany of one desk was ink splotched and scratched, bent at the corners, and even had a few cigarette burn marks lining the legs. The other desk was untouched, new.

David took his lunch in this room, always sitting at the chiseled, ruined desk. He wrote nasty things into the wood with a fountain pen.

Today David had killed a girl, a woman really, older than him, at least fourteen. He had no notion of what to do with a dead girl, so he'd brought her down to the river, whacked her head against a tree near the shallows, and then let her face drop down into the mud.

David opened his lunch box and walked over to the two desks. He sat at the clean one.

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Well, that's it. Just a little diddy really, not meant for anything but brief amusement. If you're looking for some more amusement, check out this vitamin information on the damage control master formula.