I keep forgetting to officially sign up for this every week, but I like to participate anyway. Here are six sentences from a psychological thriller I started writing years ago and may finish some day. The title of the novel is FLOWERS FROM THE FIELD.
Ben checked his son was asleep, then stumbled outside, beer sloshing from the bottle in his hand. He scooped up the dead dog in his arms, stumbled over the other dog’s body, and carried it inside. Upstairs, he laid the lifeless form across the foot of Mitch’s bed. You wanted your damn dog. You got your damn dog. He swigged back the alcohol and smiled.
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