Once again, Sue examined the same two indistinct pieces of Richard’s dismembered body and shook her head, frustrated. He’d been right after all; she clearly didn’t know his ass from his elbow.
“I hate you,” she whispered, a single tear falling from her eye. “I don’t,” he said before slowly kissing her forehead and walking away.
In a billion years, the Earth will be engulfed in the crimson fire of a bloated sun, as the great life-giving orb enters its death-throws.
On that fateful day, when you look upon it from your ethereal plain of eternity, what will you say was the point of it all, if not to escape?
It was yesterday when you last saw her, wasn’t it? Mass of wavy black hair swaying, her black boots dotted with blue bubbles plodding at the asphalt as she walked away from you for the very last time.
It’s getting pretty ridiculous now, how much I think about you. I would tell myself what you always used to tell me — suck it up and shake it off — but then I’d just be thinking of you again, wouldn’t I?
The darkness exploded around like a corona of blinding nothingness; a central core of ice-cold fluid drew him in inexorably.
Arrayed beyond him his audience sat, awaiting impatiently his book review.
Jasper Crosswhite was a man who could truly appreciate the exquisite pleasures offered by the well-picked booger. Fortunately, though a romantic by nature, he delighted in spending his weekend evenings watching movies and eating pecan pralines in the company of his dog, a chocolate Lab named Hanky.
I bite the dreams other men would merely kiss.
If it’s not edible, why waste your time?
Risking a go at post-coital conversation as he got up and walked out the room, Stan Huckjaw said to the woman whose name evaded him at the moment, “I’m gonna grab a sandwich and hit the shitter.” Somehow, he instinctively knew to flinch, even though the exclamation “Pig!” hit his ears no sooner than a four inch heel hit the back of his head.
Phil could still remember the day he saw the first crack begin running up the living room wall of what he had once considered his dream home. It was about nine months later that he ran to the unused nursery in response to the screams of his wife, to find that two possums had moved into the box that still contained the never-assembled crib.
There’s a peanut sitting there on the chair growing hair, because it wants to be a rock star someday.
If it puts on a pair of round spectacles, we’ll have to call him John Legume.
Life’s a headache; a deep throbbing pain that’s not going to stop until you drop into your grave in the cold, cold ground.
Yet, even after all the years of tears, watching great men give in to their fears, we will still come back to do it all over again, gladly, if only time permits.
I looked for you in all the usual places; job agencies, friends of friends, publishing houses. Little did I know you lurked right there in front of me in my keyboard letters.
I had hung over the edge of the cliff. Now, I hang onto the memory of my rescuer twisting, flailing, falling in my place.
I wouldn’t want to be in Tiger Woods’ shoes today.
He got caught playing eighteen holes with a single ball.