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 Just pick a six sentence passage from anything you’ve written—published, unpublished, whatever—and post it on your blog on Sunday.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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Two weeks after we last left her—at least in real time—Clyota has retrieved the her mother’s lockbox from the thief who tried to take it from her house, while she was busy being arraigned for murder. She and the Pressman have finally made it back to the car, where Christina has been waiting for at least two pages with the motor running.
After telling her best friend she looks like she lost the fight, Cristina notices the box:
I winced at the pain in my jaw, and probed for loose teeth with a cautious tongue.
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know—my mother sent it to me.”
Christina was silent for a long moment. “Oh,” she said. “Well, it had better not be your old report cards from elementary school, that’s all I have to say.”
That’s not really all she had to say, because she’s one of mine, but that’s all the sentences I have today. . .
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First ♦ Second ♦ Third ♦ Fourth ♦ Fifth ♦ Sixth
Seventh ♦ Eighth ♦ Ninth ♦ Tenth ♦ Eleventh ♦ Twelfth ♦ Thirteenth
Fourteenth ♦ Fifteenth ♦ Sixteenth ♦ Seventeenth
Eighteenth ♦ Nineteenth ♦ Twentieth ♦ Twenty-first ♦ Twenty-second
Twenty-third ♦ Twenty-fourth ♦ Twenty-fifth ♦ Twenty-sixth
Twenty-seventh ♦ Twenty-eighth ♦ Twenty-nine ♦ Thirty
Thirty-one ♦ Thirty-second ♦ Thirty-third ♦ Thirty-fourth
Earful of Cider 