Six Sentence Sunday

Every Sunday — or in this case, Monday — I will attempt to share six sentences from one of my WIPs.

“Nope,” said Liam. “I used to live for the trips to the Chicago Institute of Art. My brother and sister, they didn’t like it much, but me and my dad would go a few times a month. It was our thing.” He paused a moment. “We were going to go this Christmas, but–” he shrugged. “Next visit.”

Six Sentence Sunday

Every Sunday, I will attempt to share six sentences from the current WIP.

We went down the passage to the nursery, and Noel peeked in.

“There’s no fairy light,” he murmured and pushed the door open, then muttered, “Christ,” and went into the room.

“What is it?” I whispered, my eyes not yet adjusted to the dark. “Noel?”

“Malcolm, turn on the light,” Noel said in a tight voice, so I reached into the room to find the light switch.

The bed was empty.