My friend and First Reader Lisa participates in Six Sentence Sundays—each Sunday, she posts six sentences from one of her stories. I’ve been enjoying her snippets for a while,* and thought, well, why not?
So here are six sentences from my earliest drawer novel. The working title was Daughter Of, but one of my friends suggested Full Metal Librarian. Who am I to argue?
The moment I stepped outside, the February wind tried its best to cut me in half. So much for global warming—a third of Antarctica might have melted in the past fifty years, but Illinois winters were still brutal. I zipped my flak parka to my chin, raised my collar, and headed for the parking lot, passing other ambulatory bundles of clothes braving Mother Nature’s deep freeze.
Fighting against the wind to the parking kiosk, I stuck my hand in the slot, turning away from the icy blasts as much as possible. I could hardly feel the sampler scraping my skin. Bouncing on my toes to keep my circulation going, I glanced at the attendant, who had the requisite mohawk and submachine rifle.
Six sentences isn’t a lot . . .
*I’ve read the novel that she’s currently sharing, by the way—Lisa is a fantastic writer.