Even as my brain whispers the hopeful words, a second voice, this one buried under a mountain of cerebral tissue, laughs. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up and goose bumps erupt on my arms. That’s right Grace, the deeper voice says in a dry tone. You go ahead and believe that henceforth everything will be rainbows and unicorns.
You’ll see, the first voice retorts, this will be fun! Perhaps, the second voice inflects, but such happy thoughts are often nothing more than hopeful illusion’s which shatter like a house of cards in a tempest.
You should check out additional six sentence Sunday posts. There's an interesting mix of styles and selections. The links to the submissions can be found here http://sixsunday.com/