Six Sentence Sunday

Ouch!

It's been over a month since I've participated in Six Sentence Sunday, but I'm glad to be back with an excerpt from my Work in Progress (WIP), Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts. Knob has just met his friend Slater's mom for the first time, and he's not used to adults playing tricks.

Slater’s mom pulled a chisel-shaped knife out of an antique cabinet's top drawer and leaned her head back. With the precision of a surgeon, she gently slid the blade downward until it disappeared into her throat. Next she thrust it out with one gigantic swing. Blood covered the blade while red liquid filled her mouth. Her eyes rounded as her lips curved into a smug smile. She winked at me! 

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Cetus the Whale (Six Sentence Sunday)

Here's another six sentences from Being Bompsy Carleffa, my unpublished YA manuscript for the Six Sentence Sunday at http://www.sixsunday.blogspot.com. After Ben's kidnapping by the mob, Sarah and Austin are searching for him by studying clues from the internet.

            “During study hall, I conducted further research on the Carleffas.” Austin looked like he’d discovered a cure for Cancer or better yet, found Ben. “They’re worth sixteen billion dollars—claimed money anyway; they probably have more hidden in overseas accounts since their accountant’s a crook with a criminal record as long as Cetus the Whale.”

            “Long as who?”

            “Huge constellation with a M77 that has an active galactic nucleus,” Austin said.

            Since I didn’t speak nerd, I had no clue what he was babbling about, but that didn’t stop Austin from continuing in his excitement.

Eat Your Gestapo (Six Sentence Sunday)

As part of Six Sentence Sunday, http://www.sixsunday.blogspot.com, I've been challenged to post six lines of writing today. These six lines are from my unpublished novel, Being Bompsy Carleffa. Ben and Fiso, the crime boss father who Ben had just met, have a bit of a communication breakdown at the dinner table. I've edited my work from its original version to fit the six sentence challenge.

            After Gil placed a tomato-base soup in front of each of us, I blew on the spoon and took a sip of cold liquid. All this money, and these people couldn’t heat the food.

            “Do you like the gazpacho?” Fiso asked.

            I dropped my spoon on the table and wondered why he'd mention the Gestapo? What was he, a modern day Nazi? Sick; this guy’s really sick!

Thanks for tuning in. I'll catch you on Monday when I explore the letter U and Uncle Pancreas!