Aaaand another Sunday Six
Urgh, I am so close with this. SO CLOSE. Why do I have so many other things I need to dooooo???
(Also, not actually six sentences, but oh well.)
“Did you know?” she demands.
He can’t help the laugh that escapes him as he stands up and turns to face her. “That Bucky was alive, and a brainwashed Soviet super-assassin? No. I’d have got him out a lot sooner if I had known.”
“Is that what happened?” she asks, her eyebrow as arched as her tone. “Because it looks like you fucked your best friend who didn’t recognize you, and then threw him in prison.”
He winces, wants to protest that it wasn’t like that, because it wasn’t. Except in the way that it was. And two weeks later he still doesn’t know how to explain, even to himself, how it all got so messed up.
[Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project - published, submitted, in progress, for your cat - whatever.]
(Also, not actually six sentences, but oh well.)
“Did you know?” she demands.
He can’t help the laugh that escapes him as he stands up and turns to face her. “That Bucky was alive, and a brainwashed Soviet super-assassin? No. I’d have got him out a lot sooner if I had known.”
“Is that what happened?” she asks, her eyebrow as arched as her tone. “Because it looks like you fucked your best friend who didn’t recognize you, and then threw him in prison.”
He winces, wants to protest that it wasn’t like that, because it wasn’t. Except in the way that it was. And two weeks later he still doesn’t know how to explain, even to himself, how it all got so messed up.
[Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project - published, submitted, in progress, for your cat - whatever.]