Hello, Sixers! I’ve missed you. We’ve had a run of family emergencies, illnesses, and general malaise around these parts. Happy to be back.
Today’s six comes from an abandoned attempt to write a Christmas novella. Don’t know if or when I’ll return to this particular project, but I liked these lines, which help introduce the hero. We’re in heroine POV, and she’s approaching him from across a crowded airport gate area.
It was definitely something to do with his feet, or else in the set of his shoulders. Julie couldn’t put her finger on it, but the fact was, all he was doing was standing there, waiting his turn to talk to the gate agent, and yet he managed to look like a character in a Hemingway story. Like he ought to have a shotgun and a pith helmet, and he should speak in short, urgent sentences and shoot elephants for fun.
But maybe she was projecting. Maybe he wasn’t really conveying as much testosterone-laden urgency as she imagined.
Maybe she only thought he looked like a territory-conquering slab of rough-and-tumble male charisma because he’d conquered her territory, tumbled her rough, and left her without a backward glance nine years ago.
As per usual, you can find the other participants in Six Sentence Sunday here. Happy browsing! It’s great to be back.