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 Just pick a six sentence passage from anything you’ve written—published, unpublished, whatever—and post it on your blog on Sunday.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.
For the past thirty-four weeks—holy cow—I’ve been sharing six sentence chunks of my first drawer novel. Thank you all for your patience!
Today, I thought I’d shake things up by offering six from my current WIP, The Pigeon Drop, and introduce one Judith Thompson, as observed through the puzzled eyes of her former partner, David McRae.
It wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d been running a dojo, working personal security, or bouncing at a high-class bar. Or some kind of law enforcement, as long as it was three-initialed or invisible—even if her record hadn’t been expunged, any agency running covert ops would take one look at her skill set and shred her files.
But there she was, finding books, answering questions, fixing the photocopier. Eating a brown bag lunch, for God’s sake. Wearing a beige cardigan . . . not that she’d ever had much use for fashion, but the color was pushing it. And she was smiling at people he’d be hard pressed not to slap upside the head.
After a morning’s observation, he’d been more than half-convinced that the Jayce Thompson he knew had completely disappeared into this quiet, normal life that didn’t seem to be a cover or a con.