Forgotten Six Sentences
I totally forgot to sign up for Six Sentence Sunday! I’ve been revising my WIP, working title The Farm, so will offer up six from the opening of this YA steampunk-fantasy mash-up.
Polly shook her head and the blond curls she’d pinned high for work danced over the high collar of her candy-striped blouse. But her friend didn’t desert her. Annmar switched the roll of linen parchment she carried and tucked her free arm through Polly’s. Together they picked their way around the carts and Annmar resisted the urge to pluck up her walking skirt over the drifts of fall leaves. It would only attract attention, attention they already had dressed for shopwork on Glenwood-on-Tyne’s main business fare, not this destination. Yet, the factories along the River Tyne had become an area of the city Annmar knew well after dozens of visits, albeit heretofore arriving in Mr. Shearing’s carriage.
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