I’ve been remiss in posting my Sunday Six for a whole, but let’s at least start off the new year right, with six sentences for Sunday, Jan. 5:
At sunset, Albie ran down to check on the progress of the slow-moving cloud. “Look!” he called. I followed him down the lawn. The cloud, big and soft and columnar, was now pink and gold with sunset, but it had hardly moved an inch across the sky.
“We’ll keep it,” Albie said, moving his flag forward across the ground. “It’ll be ours.”