Sunday Six

Not a lot going on around here other than Sunday Sixes these days, it seems. Six sentences for Sunday, July 20th:

A bright white light erases her. It always goes like this: the light, the light, an indelible flame on the inside of her eyelids—and then she wakes.

Outside, a storm. Lightning breaks from cloud to cloud. There is the light of the storm, but no sound. Trees bend and twist, sharp black shapes against the violet sky.

2 Replies to “Sunday Six”

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