Six Sentence Sunday: Flight #21 -- A bath

Thanks for stopping by to read the next six from Flight. This started as a short story in support of a finished novel. And it quickly became evident that I havta tear down and rebuild that novel. Which is okay because the resulting story will be so much stronger. (Kill your darlings, eh?) In the meantime I'm serializing what will become the new first chapter.

Last week Bartholomew threw Mr. Barnes out of the house. Now he's enjoying the bath that Claire ordered.

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Smoke mingled with the steam of Bartholomew’s bath to soothe him, and he could almost ignore Claire’s distinctive, bitter energy as she stalked up the grand stairwell. He closed his eyes and dragged on his cigarette. He missed his valet. Drawing and heating the bath water was onerous and elevated his esteem for the gentleman even higher. All the more reason to not risk the man’s wellbeing to a horde of flesh-hungry, indiscriminate biters. With Claire’s arrival, Bartholomew had dispatched his human house staff to his country home in Rye.

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