Sunday, February 20, 2011
Six Sentence Sunday
Despite her churning innards, she closed the gap between them on leaden legs, managing a weak smile. His tailored charcoal frock coat, starched white shirt and perfectly pressed trousers indicated a man of means. His thick mustache, broad shoulders, and angular jaw made him quite attractive, but clearly impatient if his tapping foot was any indication. A glance down at her tacky apparel brought warmth to her cheeks. If her employment rested on her looks…
She clamped the frayed handle of her valise so tightly, her nails dug into her palms.