Six Sentence Sunday (on the fly)

The last few weeks have been hectic and I just haven't been able to get to Six Sentence Sunday. To make up for my slacker ways I've decided to post the first six sentences in my new super sekrit project. It's actually a few more than six, but you don't mind do you?

The SSS blog has taken a break for the holidays, but you can still get your fix by checking out the #sixsunday hashtag on Twitter.

It was just supposed to be a particularly virulent strain of the common flu. Nicki sat at the counter in Bone Shaker, her grandparents' hole-in-the-wall BBQ joint in rural Georgia, and watched the Technicolor nightmare unfold before her on the television. After an endless stream of violence, panic and death, it was apparent there was nothing common about this.

No longer hungry, she pushed the basket of greasy fries away from her and wiped the salt from her fingers.

"Nicole, if it's buggin' you that much, shut the damn thing off," Grandma Bea said with a scowl.

Nicki sighed. She wanted to. She really did, but it was like a gruesome reality show she couldn't turn away from, much less shut off.