98F

98F--That's what it was around 6pm while I was grilling chicken for dinner. Ridiculous. I'm covered in sweat now. Like my hair is actually dripping wet.

Just looked and our average high this time of year is 72F. Really fucking ridiculous.

I think it's supposed to be cooler tomorrow--like 85F or something.

Six Sentences on Sunday

Take any six sentences for one of your current works in progress and post them.

(almost forgot)

"Are you going to tell me you're pregnant?" He's teasing, but the thought sends a shot of panic through his system. He bites his cheek. "Please tell me you're not pregnant."

"It's triplets. Bubba says we can get married at the biker hall, but I gotta shank a bitch to get in first."

-From a modern au The 100 fic where Bellamy and Octavia are trying to sort out their lives after their mom dies.