So this Thursday I’m continuing to share with my readers something from my WIP. As I said last week, I’ve held off doing so in the past, simply because I don’t like publicly sharing something that isn’t completed to my “standards of perfection.”
But I’m fighting to let go of my perfectionist nature, and so continuing this idea into its second week. This week I’m offering up two sentences.
My mother’s honeyed voice slowed my anger in her presence, as it always did. It was as if her wry amusement at everything I said prevented my anger from fully forming, or shoved it back in the cave where it had woken from.