by Peggy McFarland
I'm going to New York City. I'm going to New York City. Peggy sang that inside her head. She didn't tell her coworkers why she needed time off, or her husband, or her children, or her favorite barista. She told some writer friends and her dog, but the writer friends didn't know her coworkers or her family, her barista only listened for the phrase "keep the change," and no one else spoke dog. So Peggy went to the Big Apple and lost herself in a pip.
6S
Peggy McFarland will be at The White Horse Tavern in New York City's West Village this evening beginning at 7pm. If you're in the neighborhood, stop by and and say Hi!
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Peggy McFarland. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Peggy McFarland. Sort by date Show all posts
20100430
20090829
Highway Memorial
by Peggy McFarland
Rerouted water creates a clear corridor. Commuters speed by, as do others on their way to dentist appointments or grocery stores or spinning classes or wherever. Maybe they notice where the pillowed sky merges with the distant wavering black; or the sunlight glints bouncing off informative green or brown or blue signs; or the lifeless fur breaching the solid white line. Maybe they insulate themselves from exhaust fumes and blurred colors by sniffing jar-candle cut-outs, or listening to Jake & Stinton's Morning ear detritus; or peek at a seat mate's animated gestures; or sip an eleven-syllable beverage that burns fingertips more than it burns the tongue. Maybe, by a sidelong look for an exit confirmation and a facetious hallelujah for the added lanes, they see the remnants. Skeletal trunks with splintered limbs and twig claws, stripped but for a shred of bark, stranded by the swamp, reed skirts camouflaging waterlogged roots, stuck in agony's pose until rot allows them to crumble; traffic fatalities unmarked by devoted white crosses.
6S
Peggy McFarland's work can be read at Absent Willow Review, FlashShot, and WordSlaw, and upcoming pieces will appear at Long Story Short and Sonar 4 E-Zine. Her full 6S catalog is here.
Rerouted water creates a clear corridor. Commuters speed by, as do others on their way to dentist appointments or grocery stores or spinning classes or wherever. Maybe they notice where the pillowed sky merges with the distant wavering black; or the sunlight glints bouncing off informative green or brown or blue signs; or the lifeless fur breaching the solid white line. Maybe they insulate themselves from exhaust fumes and blurred colors by sniffing jar-candle cut-outs, or listening to Jake & Stinton's Morning ear detritus; or peek at a seat mate's animated gestures; or sip an eleven-syllable beverage that burns fingertips more than it burns the tongue. Maybe, by a sidelong look for an exit confirmation and a facetious hallelujah for the added lanes, they see the remnants. Skeletal trunks with splintered limbs and twig claws, stripped but for a shred of bark, stranded by the swamp, reed skirts camouflaging waterlogged roots, stuck in agony's pose until rot allows them to crumble; traffic fatalities unmarked by devoted white crosses.
6S
Peggy McFarland's work can be read at Absent Willow Review, FlashShot, and WordSlaw, and upcoming pieces will appear at Long Story Short and Sonar 4 E-Zine. Her full 6S catalog is here.
20090912
Buyer Beware
by Peggy McFarland
Vlad draped a shroud over his coffin, added a glass table-top, slid chairs close and then stepped back to check the effect. He added candles, a vase of orchids and tables settings. "Buffet," he told the empty mirror, smiling at his bon mot. He coated his body and clothing with SPF 70 sunscreen and then sprayed again - one burnt ear-tip taught him there was no such thing as too careful. Thanks to Coppertone and HGTV, he now lured healthy, fresh-blooded beings into his home instead of slinking into the night like a dirty rodent to hunt alcohol-saturated beings - talk about heart-burn! Outside, Vlad mowed the front lawn, slowing around his balloon decorated mailbox and taking extra care not to dislodge the "OPEN HOUSE" sign.
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
Vlad draped a shroud over his coffin, added a glass table-top, slid chairs close and then stepped back to check the effect. He added candles, a vase of orchids and tables settings. "Buffet," he told the empty mirror, smiling at his bon mot. He coated his body and clothing with SPF 70 sunscreen and then sprayed again - one burnt ear-tip taught him there was no such thing as too careful. Thanks to Coppertone and HGTV, he now lured healthy, fresh-blooded beings into his home instead of slinking into the night like a dirty rodent to hunt alcohol-saturated beings - talk about heart-burn! Outside, Vlad mowed the front lawn, slowing around his balloon decorated mailbox and taking extra care not to dislodge the "OPEN HOUSE" sign.
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
20090926
Friday Night Aftermath
by Peggy McFarland
A warm body snuggled against her back. One eye-lid shot open. Think Zoe commanded herself. She remembered the bar, the singer with the sexy eyes, too much tequila and... it got fuzzy after that. The body shifted! A warm tongue licked her cheek and... dog breath?
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
A warm body snuggled against her back. One eye-lid shot open. Think Zoe commanded herself. She remembered the bar, the singer with the sexy eyes, too much tequila and... it got fuzzy after that. The body shifted! A warm tongue licked her cheek and... dog breath?
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
20080512
Katie's Six by Peggy McFarland
an Online Magazine from Six Sentences
Peggy McFarland gives us six painful glimpses into the life of a young girl. To view the magazine, just click the blue “OPEN PUBLICATION” tab above. You’ll be taken inside, where you can turn the pages by clicking the arrows to the left and right. To view a “full screen” version, once inside, just click the diagonal arrows above the document (located to the left of the little envelope). Enjoy!
6S
Six Sentences urges you to write. And when you're finished? Write some more.
Peggy McFarland gives us six painful glimpses into the life of a young girl. To view the magazine, just click the blue “OPEN PUBLICATION” tab above. You’ll be taken inside, where you can turn the pages by clicking the arrows to the left and right. To view a “full screen” version, once inside, just click the diagonal arrows above the document (located to the left of the little envelope). Enjoy!
6S
Six Sentences urges you to write. And when you're finished? Write some more.
20090402
Sixth Grade Sweetheart
by Peggy McFarland
He took a shower, even though he just had one last week. He broke open the three-month-old gift pack of deodorant and body spray (label warning: women will attack) and applied generously. He put on his favorite shirt with the skulls and guitar, smoothed on the hair gel, checked his fingernails, and brushed his teeth - twice, just in case. Too many of her friends giggled with her at her locker for a safe approach. In between classes, on the way to lunch, at recess... can’t she go anywhere without her friends hanging on her? Waiting to board her bus, she was alone (finally!) so he grabbed his friend Dylan’s arm, pushed him towards her and commanded, “Go ask her if she likes me!”
6S
Peggy McFarland, our first “Six of the Month" winner, wishes her sons would slow down and wait to grow-up. Check out her full catalog here, and also her shorts in both 6S anthologies.
He took a shower, even though he just had one last week. He broke open the three-month-old gift pack of deodorant and body spray (label warning: women will attack) and applied generously. He put on his favorite shirt with the skulls and guitar, smoothed on the hair gel, checked his fingernails, and brushed his teeth - twice, just in case. Too many of her friends giggled with her at her locker for a safe approach. In between classes, on the way to lunch, at recess... can’t she go anywhere without her friends hanging on her? Waiting to board her bus, she was alone (finally!) so he grabbed his friend Dylan’s arm, pushed him towards her and commanded, “Go ask her if she likes me!”
6S
Peggy McFarland, our first “Six of the Month" winner, wishes her sons would slow down and wait to grow-up. Check out her full catalog here, and also her shorts in both 6S anthologies.
20080317
The Dance
by Peggy McFarland
Two steps forward, one step back. It’s the dance pattern that rules life. Try taking that giant step to break out of the rut, and you find you’ve tripped and landed on your face, clawing to get back on track. Regain the motion, set the pace, at least it’s progress, or so they tell you. Two steps forward, one step back. It would be easier if they added a snappy soundtrack.
6S
Peggy McFarland, whose full catalog is here, still dances, still bartends, and still writes sentences six at a time.
Two steps forward, one step back. It’s the dance pattern that rules life. Try taking that giant step to break out of the rut, and you find you’ve tripped and landed on your face, clawing to get back on track. Regain the motion, set the pace, at least it’s progress, or so they tell you. Two steps forward, one step back. It would be easier if they added a snappy soundtrack.
6S
Peggy McFarland, whose full catalog is here, still dances, still bartends, and still writes sentences six at a time.
20070826
Letting Go
by Peggy McFarland
They're happy tears, she told her youngest son as he tapped his foot. He refused to let her tears delay what took eighteen years, six months and seven days to arrive. Call me, she added, and raised her arms. She wasn't grandma, it wasn't Christmas, no one died... after several awkward moments he leaned in for her hug. I love you, she said, as he shut the dorm room door. Finally free, finally free he chanted in his head as he placed clothes in the bureau, books on the shelf and a framed photograph of mom on the nightstand.
6S
Peggy McFarland loves writing six sentences and is still working on writing many, many sentences all in a row.
They're happy tears, she told her youngest son as he tapped his foot. He refused to let her tears delay what took eighteen years, six months and seven days to arrive. Call me, she added, and raised her arms. She wasn't grandma, it wasn't Christmas, no one died... after several awkward moments he leaned in for her hug. I love you, she said, as he shut the dorm room door. Finally free, finally free he chanted in his head as he placed clothes in the bureau, books on the shelf and a framed photograph of mom on the nightstand.
6S
Peggy McFarland loves writing six sentences and is still working on writing many, many sentences all in a row.
20070830
Not the Mom
by Peggy McFarland
Buddy cried when she placed him in the shopping cart. The inch of exposed skin between the top of his peaking diaper and the waistband of his winter coat rubbed against those steel bars. With a smirk tickling the corners of his mouth, a grandfatherly man pointed out her mistake. "I'm the aunt, not the mom," she rationalized as her cheeks burned red, though not from the cold. She lifted Buddy and felt his chubby arms wrap around her neck, his baby powder scented head snuggled against her shoulder. A warm toddler hug forgave the auntie goof.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of Letting Go, is an aunt and mother too. She bartends for a living until this writing thing catches on.
Buddy cried when she placed him in the shopping cart. The inch of exposed skin between the top of his peaking diaper and the waistband of his winter coat rubbed against those steel bars. With a smirk tickling the corners of his mouth, a grandfatherly man pointed out her mistake. "I'm the aunt, not the mom," she rationalized as her cheeks burned red, though not from the cold. She lifted Buddy and felt his chubby arms wrap around her neck, his baby powder scented head snuggled against her shoulder. A warm toddler hug forgave the auntie goof.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of Letting Go, is an aunt and mother too. She bartends for a living until this writing thing catches on.
20071109
Blondes Have More
by Peggy McFarland
The first day Sienna changed her hair color from her dull, natural brunette to bright, shiny, platinum blonde, the world treated her different. Men whistled when she passed them on the street; they asked her for her phone number at the deli counter; they started conversations with her while she waited for the subway. Women smiled hello when she passed them on the street; waved to her across the crowded platform as if she were a familiar friend; asked her opinions on purchases at the department store. She became addicted to the lavish attention and craved more, and figured - why only change the top of her head? Her best friend suggested enhancing the inside of her head and invited Sienna to join her book discussion group, but Sienna chose a different development. After smoothing a stray whitish-yellow strand back into place, Sienna closed her compact mirror, lowered her tight-knit sweater zipper two more inches, thrust forward her new Double D’s and strutted to the escalator.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of Tanning, thoroughly enjoyed blonde for six months, and wonders why she now only uses blonde highlights to cover the gray.
The first day Sienna changed her hair color from her dull, natural brunette to bright, shiny, platinum blonde, the world treated her different. Men whistled when she passed them on the street; they asked her for her phone number at the deli counter; they started conversations with her while she waited for the subway. Women smiled hello when she passed them on the street; waved to her across the crowded platform as if she were a familiar friend; asked her opinions on purchases at the department store. She became addicted to the lavish attention and craved more, and figured - why only change the top of her head? Her best friend suggested enhancing the inside of her head and invited Sienna to join her book discussion group, but Sienna chose a different development. After smoothing a stray whitish-yellow strand back into place, Sienna closed her compact mirror, lowered her tight-knit sweater zipper two more inches, thrust forward her new Double D’s and strutted to the escalator.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of Tanning, thoroughly enjoyed blonde for six months, and wonders why she now only uses blonde highlights to cover the gray.
20071007
Tanning
by Peggy McFarland
The sun caresses my back. I lay stomach down on my towel, hoping to become the beautiful shade of brown flaunted in Ban de Soleil ads. I breathe deeply the scent of the beach -- part salt, part water, part coconut, part something I call "outside." My breathing blends with the rhythm of the surf. The waves hum a lullaby, the warm breeze strokes my skin -- I am lulled to sleep. Sensuous dreams float above consciousness and below, merging into a handsome bronzed man, skillful hands, insistent lips, until... a cold bucketful of water splashed my back, accompanied by the discordant laughter of two soon-to-be-grounded-for-life sons and one he's-not-getting-any-until-after-his-next-birthday husband.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of The Actress, loves writing six sentences and is still working on writing many, many sentences all in a row.
The sun caresses my back. I lay stomach down on my towel, hoping to become the beautiful shade of brown flaunted in Ban de Soleil ads. I breathe deeply the scent of the beach -- part salt, part water, part coconut, part something I call "outside." My breathing blends with the rhythm of the surf. The waves hum a lullaby, the warm breeze strokes my skin -- I am lulled to sleep. Sensuous dreams float above consciousness and below, merging into a handsome bronzed man, skillful hands, insistent lips, until... a cold bucketful of water splashed my back, accompanied by the discordant laughter of two soon-to-be-grounded-for-life sons and one he's-not-getting-any-until-after-his-next-birthday husband.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of The Actress, loves writing six sentences and is still working on writing many, many sentences all in a row.
20071217
Midnight Snack
by Peggy McFarland
The toddler’s eyes grew wide at the large green dragon with purple spots looming over the side of her crib, cooking french fries. He exhaled a low flame to crisp the potato wedge before he offered it to the child. She reached for the fry, grasped it in her chubby fist and... nothing. After the fifth attempt, she howled. “Shh, you’re having a bad dream,” mom soothed after running to the child’s room. No, not bad, frustrating, the child wanted to say, but she didn’t have the words, plus mom rubbed her forehead - the memory of fries and the dragon erased.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of Cheated, was thrilled to learn she was a finalist for the Word Smitten 1010 contest. It truly was great to be considered. When frustrated, she no longer rubs her forehead.
The toddler’s eyes grew wide at the large green dragon with purple spots looming over the side of her crib, cooking french fries. He exhaled a low flame to crisp the potato wedge before he offered it to the child. She reached for the fry, grasped it in her chubby fist and... nothing. After the fifth attempt, she howled. “Shh, you’re having a bad dream,” mom soothed after running to the child’s room. No, not bad, frustrating, the child wanted to say, but she didn’t have the words, plus mom rubbed her forehead - the memory of fries and the dragon erased.
6S
Peggy McFarland, author of Cheated, was thrilled to learn she was a finalist for the Word Smitten 1010 contest. It truly was great to be considered. When frustrated, she no longer rubs her forehead.
20090811
Control Issues
by Peggy McFarland
I had the radio dream again. I'm at the control board and U2 is warbling the last 10 seconds of "Out of Control" and I look at the empty second turntable and panic. The albums are all down the hall in the record room and I didn't pull them ahead of time. I grab a cartridge for an unscheduled commercial to buy sixty seconds but all I find are ten second public service announcements. Song ends, microphone on and my mind blanks. Dead air... until I awake and realize radio is all computerized now and I'm not a DJ and I never run out of things to say.
6S
Peggy McFarland is proud to add the upcoming anthologies by Harbinger*33 and Absent Willow Review to her credits. Her works have appeared or will appear at Long Story Short, Sonar 4 E-Zine, Absent Willow Review, FlashShot, and WordSlaw. Her full 6S catalog is here.
I had the radio dream again. I'm at the control board and U2 is warbling the last 10 seconds of "Out of Control" and I look at the empty second turntable and panic. The albums are all down the hall in the record room and I didn't pull them ahead of time. I grab a cartridge for an unscheduled commercial to buy sixty seconds but all I find are ten second public service announcements. Song ends, microphone on and my mind blanks. Dead air... until I awake and realize radio is all computerized now and I'm not a DJ and I never run out of things to say.
6S
Peggy McFarland is proud to add the upcoming anthologies by Harbinger*33 and Absent Willow Review to her credits. Her works have appeared or will appear at Long Story Short, Sonar 4 E-Zine, Absent Willow Review, FlashShot, and WordSlaw. Her full 6S catalog is here.
20090304
Shake It Like You Mean It
Six Sixes by Peggy McFarland
Peggy McFarland, our January Six of the Month Award Winner, returns in a big way. To view the magazine, just click the document. You’ll be taken inside, where you can turn the pages by clicking the arrows to the left and right. Enjoy!
6S
Six Sentences? Yes indeed.
Peggy McFarland, our January Six of the Month Award Winner, returns in a big way. To view the magazine, just click the document. You’ll be taken inside, where you can turn the pages by clicking the arrows to the left and right. Enjoy!
6S
Six Sentences? Yes indeed.
20111106
Six Small Meals
Six Sixes by Peggy McFarland
6S
Peggy McFarland, a longtime friend and supporter of this site and community, is celebrating a birthday today.
6S
Peggy McFarland, a longtime friend and supporter of this site and community, is celebrating a birthday today.
20090921
The Old Title Didn't Work
by Peggy McFarland
An old friend stopped by, to chat, catch up, just say hi. He drank her beer while he talked about his travels, the people he met, the ones he hooked up with, his job and how he was back and free. He helped himself to her bourbon, got another beer, took off his shoes and told about his plans and how he was back in town just to get back on his feet. She started to tell him about her job, but he excused himself to use the bathroom - all the bevies, you know, he said. When he returned, he sat closer to her, winked, and asked how about a go, for old time's sake. She smiled graciously as she stood, opened the front door, and thanked him for stopping by; it was exactly like old times.
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
An old friend stopped by, to chat, catch up, just say hi. He drank her beer while he talked about his travels, the people he met, the ones he hooked up with, his job and how he was back and free. He helped himself to her bourbon, got another beer, took off his shoes and told about his plans and how he was back in town just to get back on his feet. She started to tell him about her job, but he excused himself to use the bathroom - all the bevies, you know, he said. When he returned, he sat closer to her, winked, and asked how about a go, for old time's sake. She smiled graciously as she stood, opened the front door, and thanked him for stopping by; it was exactly like old times.
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
20081202
Pregnant Pause
by Peggy McFarland
The pregnant pause filled the space with anxious expectation, words overdue. Just when the listener thought it might be another false alarm, or maybe just his own imagery and he could avoid their portent and the ensuing upheaval to his complacent life... the words gushed. He tried to catch them all, understand them, but they were too many; they littered the air with their foreign cries and hurt the ears. Still, he attempted to listen, and cared for the first few, mulled them over, doted upon those phrases, arranged and rearranged them until their language matched his own, let them evolve into slogans; yet, he never understood his revisions smothered their original intent. Exhausted, she tried to gather up the rest of her words, but so many spewed forth that the ones she could recall remained out of context, orphaned and misunderstood since their conception, so she cleaned the expressions she had and rearranged them until the abridged version satisfied her sensibilities. They accepted this edited story as their own rebirth, and so what if a lost phrase emerged to claim its original meaning when he watched the news, or when she read the newspaper... those were banished, lest a well turned phrase enlighten their new dysfunction.
6S
Peggy McFarland, whose full catalog is here, is most proud of Katie’s Six, is honored to have two stories in 6SV1, and continues to seek inspiration.
The pregnant pause filled the space with anxious expectation, words overdue. Just when the listener thought it might be another false alarm, or maybe just his own imagery and he could avoid their portent and the ensuing upheaval to his complacent life... the words gushed. He tried to catch them all, understand them, but they were too many; they littered the air with their foreign cries and hurt the ears. Still, he attempted to listen, and cared for the first few, mulled them over, doted upon those phrases, arranged and rearranged them until their language matched his own, let them evolve into slogans; yet, he never understood his revisions smothered their original intent. Exhausted, she tried to gather up the rest of her words, but so many spewed forth that the ones she could recall remained out of context, orphaned and misunderstood since their conception, so she cleaned the expressions she had and rearranged them until the abridged version satisfied her sensibilities. They accepted this edited story as their own rebirth, and so what if a lost phrase emerged to claim its original meaning when he watched the news, or when she read the newspaper... those were banished, lest a well turned phrase enlighten their new dysfunction.
6S
Peggy McFarland, whose full catalog is here, is most proud of Katie’s Six, is honored to have two stories in 6SV1, and continues to seek inspiration.
20091030
Just a Bad Dream
A Six-Pack of Horror by Peggy McFarland
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
6S
Peggy McFarland's stories have been (or will be) published (soon) at FlashShot, Long Story Short, Everyday Weirdness, Absent Willow Review, Sonar 4 E-Zine, hoi polloi III, Harbinger*33, WordSlaw, 6SV1 and 6SV2. Her full 6S catalog is here.
20091106
Six Small Meals
Six Sixes by Peggy McFarland
6S
Peggy McFarland, a longtime friend and supporter of this site and community, is celebrating a birthday today.
6S
Peggy McFarland, a longtime friend and supporter of this site and community, is celebrating a birthday today.
20071203
Cheated
by Peggy McFarland
A bead of condensation slipped down the exterior of the glass, mimicking the bead of perspiration sliding down John’s temple. A cell phone rang a few bars of “Before He Cheats.” He gulped his bone-dry, bless-it-on-the-way-by, top-shelf vodka martini, wiped his brow and placed a long, blue velvet box on the white tablecloth between them. Barry’s eyes lit up - finally, this relationship could emerge from the closet and march in public. He closed his eyes and savored the moment, rubbed his thumb along the fuzzy exterior, and finally snapped open the lid, anticipating a glittering... Barry heard the scraping of John’s chair against the wooden floor and felt a slight breeze as his partner ran to the exit. Barry opened his eyes to find a tarnished gold band, threaded through a red ribbon, pinned onto a quilt square.
6S
Peggy McFarland once thought Blondes Have More, but now appreciates any color of the rainbow, even if she doesn't always understand. Maybe if she went to bed instead of staying up all night writing sixes, she would.
A bead of condensation slipped down the exterior of the glass, mimicking the bead of perspiration sliding down John’s temple. A cell phone rang a few bars of “Before He Cheats.” He gulped his bone-dry, bless-it-on-the-way-by, top-shelf vodka martini, wiped his brow and placed a long, blue velvet box on the white tablecloth between them. Barry’s eyes lit up - finally, this relationship could emerge from the closet and march in public. He closed his eyes and savored the moment, rubbed his thumb along the fuzzy exterior, and finally snapped open the lid, anticipating a glittering... Barry heard the scraping of John’s chair against the wooden floor and felt a slight breeze as his partner ran to the exit. Barry opened his eyes to find a tarnished gold band, threaded through a red ribbon, pinned onto a quilt square.
6S
Peggy McFarland once thought Blondes Have More, but now appreciates any color of the rainbow, even if she doesn't always understand. Maybe if she went to bed instead of staying up all night writing sixes, she would.
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