In which the nightsoil hits the ostrich feather fan.
Six Sentence Sunday; I am doing it wrong. I ought to be linking back to the website and list here, but I have failed to be organized enough to get myself included on it. So I’m just going to post it for myself and own my own fail 😉
This is from The Glass Floor, in which our scientifically minded heroine Ecatarina notices her brother in the garden.
His eyes had sunk, the tips of his fingers had turned dark, he had smelled, sweet, offensive, as his cheeks began to puff up, and she had had to wave the flies away from settling on him. He had been dead, unbreathing, for days before going into the earth. No doubt about that. No tragic possibility of being buried alive such as she had read of happening in other countries, who disposed of their loved ones indecently fast.
He was dead. And he was looking up at her window with puzzled eyes.
At 76K, I’m approximately half way through and everything is about to take a turn to the left, as we find out what on earth Zayd and the mad Sultan has to do with any of this.