Hi! I had such a wonderfully friendly response last week with the Six Sentence Sunday gang, that I'm back again this week. This is from something I started to work on, and then never got around to finishing. I'm hoping to get back to it. Click on the link above to see what everyone else is writing.
There was a putrid, bitter taste of disgust that seeped out of a hidden crevice deep inside me. It was the kind of crevice that unwanted memories disappeared into. When B.W. sat back in the car, that taste erupted into rage.
"I want to go back and beat those guys with a tire iron!" I said tightening my jaw in an attempt to bridle the rage. "We could hide in the woods and wait for them..."