Today’s six are from my first published SteamPunk novella, The Strange Fate of Capricious Jones.
Thoughts of Kay made Cap realize how long she had been up. The gauge on her right epaulet showed her tanks half full of a secret mixture of distilled naphtha and jellied alcohol; on this, her first flight, she had no intention of letting them drop lower. Her wings were too short for her to glide safely to the ground, and her parachute was as experimental as her Engines. Capricious gave one last longing glance at the snow-capped Alps and, with awistful sigh, she leaned to her right and banked back towards David’s manor.
Halfway back around, Pyrenees once more in sight, she heard the distinctive sound of stressed leather snapping free. Her wings began unraveling, and she knew without doubt that she was going to die before she saw little Kay again.