Six Sentence Sunday is open to all writers. Just pick a six sentence passage from anything you’ve written—published, unpublished, whatever—and post it on your blog on Sunday.
Registration for the upcoming Sunday list opens the previous Tuesday evening at 5pm CST. More information is here.
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More from my drawer novel.
I skipped the shower scene, but someday I hope to have Clyota’s bathroom fixtures. If I start saving now, they should all be invented by the time I can afford ‘em.
Who needs a retirement fund anyway?
I put on a pair of thick socks and wandered into the kitchen, snagging the letter as I went.
Ordering up a cup of hot tea, I slit open the envelope and did my best to engross myself in Aunt Rosie’s five-page, handwritten report on her latest mystery plot, the day by day weather in New Zealand, and the whimsical foibles of Mr. Higgins, her Main Coon.
I deciphered and read every solitary word—twice–then put the last page down and rubbed my eyes.
No one could make me respond to the lieutenant’s message or take that damned box if I didn’t want to—he couldn’t reach through the screen and drop it in my lap.
So why was I contemplating cleaning out my kitchen cabinets, or even scrubbing the grout, just to avoid the terminal in the spare room?
I tossed the letter aside, got up, and marched down the hall.
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Previous Installments:
First ♦ Second ♦ Third ♦ Fourth ♦ Fifth ♦ Sixth
Seventh ♦ Eighth ♦ Ninth ♦ Tenth ♦ Eleventh ♦ Twelfth
Don’t do it!!! Do it. Don’t do it!!!! Do it.
You got me hooked.
Because sometimes the things we don’t know can balloon into monsters of size unimaginable. Problem with Clyota is she does have something to fear. And she knows she does and yet, she’ll plunge forward. That’s what makes her such a great character. She’s not dragged into anything. She puts her shoulders back and goes in before fate decides for her. Love it.
On a side note, I, too want her shower, but I will settle for that teacup for now. Baby steps.
Lisa, you have a way of making my stuff seem far more deliberate and clever than it is—bless you!
The image is from a place that sells glass tea sets—so much to covet, so little funding . . .
I love how you illustrate her stalling. Great six.
This is actually how I like to stall . . . by thinking about ways to stall. It sort of cuts out the middleman.
Haha. I have to try that!
Great 6, love her voice and determination to face her anxieties…
Thanks, Angela!
Great job…I want to find out what she’s marching toward!
Thanks, D’Ann. Next week, I think . . .maybe.
Great work in this six, well done.
Thanks, Alix.
How cool to be able to order up a cup of tea in your own kitchen.Deciphered the words? That piqued my curiosity.
I’ve always wanted to be able to tell my kitchen to make dinner ever since I saw Running Man.
And Aunt Rosie has very bad handwriting—if they even teach handwriting at Clyota’s point in time.
Was this the end of a chapter? It should be, because nothing would keep me from reading the next one.
It’s the end of a section, I think, but that’s a good idea. This thing has uneven chapters like whoa.
I’m with Sherry, that this would be a terrific place to end a chapter. I have to know!
Ooh, now this is intriguing! lol at the contents of the letter.
Thanks, Gayle! I wish I had an Aunt Rosie. Or a Maine Coon.