WeWriWa—On the way to the party

Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. The rules have now been relaxed to allow a few more sentences if merited, so long as they’re clearly indicated, to avoid the creative punctuation many of us have used to stay within the limit.

I’m now sharing snippets from the book formerly known as The Very Next, now entitled Movements in the Symphony of 1939. It was released in e-book format on March second, with a paperback edition to follow within a few months. The paperback edition will have a different cover.

Best friends Cinnimin and Sparky (real name Katherine) have been forced to take new houseguest Samantha to their friend Quintina’s birthday party. Sam’s mother Urma insisted so vociferously and stridently, even against the objections of her husband, Cinni, and Sam herself on account of Sam’s out of place clothes and lack of a present.

Sam followed after Cinni and Sparky, trailing several feet behind. She didn’t make any conversation as they walked through the large backyard. Sam held back from the low wooden fence which Cinni and Sparky straddled before heading up the unpaved walkway to the Holidays’ house. First she looked around for any other way to negotiate the final leg of the journey, then back at the Filliards’ house.

“Do you see my mother watching from any windows or the back door?”

“I don’t see her,” Cinni said. “What, will she beat you or yell at you if you straddle the fence? Or does she think boys are going to see up that long dress of yours if you climb over?”

The eight lines end here. A few more to complete the scene follow.

“I can never be too careful around my mother. But please don’t tell her I told you that. You don’t want to know what kind of woman my mother is.” Sam carefully climbed up and swung her leg around to the other side of the fence, climbing down just as slowly and carefully.

“It’s easier to climb fences with shorter skirts. I wish it were more acceptable for girls to wear pants, but sometimes you gotta pick your battles. Would your mother let you wear more modern clothes? That looks like something my mother mighta worn when she was our age, and she was born in 1900.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to having to dress like this. I can’t go against my mother. My father gets it every time he tries to do what he wants, and I’d get it even worse, since I don’t have the excuse of being a different religion.”