Happy Sunday, everyone! Well, my weird-ass work-in-progress is no longer a work-in-progress, so I should really just start referring to it as Badger. It's pretty much done, barring some final edits, nearly ready to be foisted upon unsuspecting literary agents.
Here's the Badger, a cut-rate bicycle vigilante, explaining to the heroine what drives him to assault litterers and bad drivers with a paintball gun.
“When I see something that pisses me off, it’s like…” His gaze jumped all over, as if the words he wanted might be scrawled on the walls or windows. “It’s like hell opens up inside my head. Then I chase, and I do something to even the score, and cold, blue water fills my skull, and all the anger goes hissss.” He closed his eyes as though meditating, wriggling fingers miming dispersion. “Just steam, and I can breathe again.”
Thanks for swinging by, everyone! Now head here to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts this week.