Hi Gang, what a year we’ve, both good and not so good but we survived and that’s the best. So we begin fresh.
I have an idea for a new book. The title is Six Degrees of Perspiration. Let me know what you think. This is just the beginning.
“That’s it,” Rachel slammed her handbag on the table at their favorite bistro.
Puzzled, Sarah dropped the menu,“That’s what?”
“I’ve had enough of being a failure as a writer.”
“So what will we do to be successful?”
“There’s no more we; either write alone or forget about it.”
“Please, Sarah, give us one more chance, I have an idea so just listen. This is the title, Six Degrees of Perspiration. Two single women decide to find men to hook up with, something like finding single men who were already vetted and approved by other women and moved on. Guys with hair and teeth, guys without bellies they’d be pleased to date.
Rachel thought out loud, “I’m worth getting naked for and I’d like, just for once, to meet a hot guy with a nice body to feel.
Summer time and the living is easy. Hi Gang. We’re enjoying some great weather the past week in my part of the North East not far from NYC. Daughter’s even planning trip to our fave, Long Beach Island, the Jersey shore. I’ve written some fun, delightful stories vacationing down there.
Meanwhile, thanks again for the exceptional critique every week. When Double Becomes Single is just about finished. With your help, I hope it will do well.
She parked then stumbled toward the hospital entrance to hurry to the third floor. The empty elevator suited her, a ghost town so late at night, dim lit and quiet. Something triggered an impulse to RUN. Down the hall she ran to Barry’s room, hip throbbing, where outside in the hall Doctor Mac Bloom paced. He stopped her from rushing in.
“Sharon, he’s had a heart attack, a bad one. There was nothing we could do to save him.”
She shook her head; snowflakes captured in her blond hair fell to the floor leaving damp puddles. “What do you mean, Mac, you always fix everything; you’re the one. . .” She grabbed his white coat and cried, “You’re saying Barry’s gone, he’s dead?”For more snippets from talented writers: