Abiding to six sentences was somewhat more suggestion than rule. Sometimes, writers posted 6×2, meaning two sets of six sentences. Sometimes, like in the one below, we (I) stretched a single sentence beyond its limit. Feel free to imagine extra periods wheresoever you deem prudent.
- Originally posted on a 6s community June 15, 2010 at 9:09pm
The split was never scary until she knew it was there. Before that, they were just people, you know, friends, enemies, apathetic, and everything in between.
Scarlet figured that if the others were make-believe, the doctor might be, too, or maybe he was the only split and trying to make her crazier than she ever dreamed.
She set out to kill a few, her least favorite, for no reason other than self-validation; if they were real, they’d be no big loss to society, but no big loss either way, she supposed. She started with the doctor, and his blood was the brightest red she’d ever seen, but he stayed on the ground, the meat fork protruding from his bloated belly, until screaming lights brought far more people than she could have invented; Scarlet attended his funeral dressed in black and hugged his sobbing wife while smiling behind her veil.
The next three were sanctimonious heathens of the highest order, especially in death, and Scarlet felt strong and healthy and righteous for outsmarting that doc; but number four was herself hung by the neck and she felt her Self dissolve into a bystander – Scott – who watched the lifeless bag of waste swing mildly from the rafter and wondered only, “Who next?”
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