I am really into this number six thing. So much so that I have tried the Six Sentences or 6S challenge. I have a profile (yes one more thing to maintain, and have two new posts). But because its writing, and more writing, its all good.
He kissed her forehead. It said goodbye. She opened her eyes to a dark room and the sound of the heart monitor beeping. Her vitals were almost okay, but she remembered last night. One minute they were on the highway, singing along to their honeymoon song. Next thing she remembers is the flash of light, the blur of glass and metal, the stench of blood and the white sheet being pulled over his body on the wet tarmac.
It was crazy to think that she could do it, but it played in her head for ten hours in the darkness. The gleam of silver; the smell of flesh burning. When she finally did it, it seemed all too familiar. First she stabbed him; fourteen times for good measure. Then she burned the bed, and the house around it, so that the memory of the monster could go up in smoke. That's when she saw it: her freedom rising out of the ashes, a victorious phoenix.
The Scottish Tory Resurgence
2 hours ago