Six sentences for Sunday, August 17:
The woman standing in front of her is tall and raw-boned and ginger-blonde, her hair swept back from her face in a loose knot. Her expression is open, expectant. Behind her, the hanging basket of honeysuckle twists in the breeze.
She slides over further on the bench, making room.
“Thanks.” The woman sits down, tucking one leg up to adjust her high-heeled shoe.