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I present to you Eight Sentence Sunday, a blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. I've been trying my hand at free writing lately, and this is my favorite piece from this week. The rough worn man looked glum as he wrote in his diary. She didn't know any other man who wrote in his diary in the early afternoon, nor did she know another who wrote in one in the middle of town, nor one that was a bootlegger. Yet, she supposed, that was the reason that he stood out, and the reason that she was paid to seduce him. Eileen know she looked a particular kind of small town beautiful as she walked over and accidentally blundered into Dakota. "Oh I am so sorry. Clumsy me, are you alright?" She put on a southern drawl, making sure that her word choices portrayed her as a bit naive. He looked off into the distance for a moment, before realizing the cause of his interruption was right in front of him. "Ah hello, no bother at all for a pretty little thing like yourself." Like a gentleman he took of his hat and bowed. Check out more at http://www.wewriwa.com/.
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I present to you Eight Sentence Sunday, a blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. I've been trying my hand at free writing lately, and this is my favorite piece from this week. Last night it happened, but they do not realize the truth. The elephant demons of my homeland, known criminals, attacked. Yet the police here are ignorant. They believe that I, a person of the knife, defected. They are wrong. If they will not give this investigation serious thought, then I will have to be the one to avenge my friends and family of choice. If they get in my way they will rue the consequences, if they survive long enough to think anything at all. For I am of the last of the knife in this country, the best of the knife before that, and a knife on a mission is the most terrible thing. Check out more at http://www.wewriwa.com/.
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