Six Sentence Sunday, 3.13.22

“Was that Glomgold you were talking to just now?” Mark asked, fighting to keep his voice level as he took a casual sip of his coffee.

“Yes dear. We’re dating.”

Mark regretted that sip as he choked on it, sputtering scalding liquid onto his shirt. His mother handed him a napkin, disdain written strongly across her face.

“He looks a lot like my fourth husband, don’t you think?” she continued

“You’ve only been married three times, Mom.”

“Precisely, dear.”

From the as-yet-untitled sequel to Boyd’s Genius Plan.