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Tag Archives: Six Sentence Sunday
Six Sentence Sunday, 27 November 2011 (Annie Brown and the Superhero Blues)
However, the policies were firm. Bus your own dishes led the list, followed by No superheroics on premises, and Cross World Café bans guns on these premises, with a clarifying note below: “That means conventional firearms, directed-beam weapons, projectile weapons … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 13 November 2011 (Annie Brown and the Superhero Blues)
There were a lot of things that Annie did not like about being a superhero. Her teachers at the Superhero Academy had nagged her to wear contact lenses, because even if her glasses were the standard Clark Kents, she needed … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 6 November 2011 (Annie Brown and the Superhero Blues)
The Picture disturbed her because it hid the secret that none of them, not Apollo and Sunny, not Annie and Rafe, had wanted to go to prom. Their parents had had such a good time at their prom. For all … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 30 October 2011 (Annie Brown and the Superhero Blues)
Beulah Mae and Martin had been as brilliant as the sparkling cusp of a wave driving in to the beach at Waikiki with the force of three thousand miles of Pacific behind it. Behind them swelled the hopes and ambitions … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 23 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)
“Of course she does,” Stavros said. “I looked her up. They haven’t found any of them,” She didn’t want to say aloud what she could all too easily imagine: she would die, and they would dismantle that tiny apartment, and … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 16 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)
It was a shame there was nobody alive with that kind of spirit, she thought, but then Victorine and she wouldn’t understand each other. Only in paint and canvas. She read French, but spoke it excecrably. (And that was just … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 9 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)
She still remembered her very first set of real brushes, and the marvel of being able to draw out of the messy paint some semblance of her own thoughts. “You’ve been trying to paint with house-painting brushes,” Florence had said … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 2 October 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)
The hall was high and cool and dim, the lights set carefully to age the paintings as little as possible. Between the stone walls, the air filled up with centuries. She thought sometimes of an Egyptian tomb, and not only … Continue reading
Six Sentence Sunday, 25 September 2011 (The Lost Pissarro)
They went to the Metropolitan and then they bought deli food and sat outdoors at Rockefeller Center. Florence browsed the Japanese bookstore and exclaimed over the cover designs and took notes on elegances she might like to use on her … Continue reading
E. P. Beaumont 