He had grown up being told that his bark was worse than his bite. He had always resolved to change that one day. Harder than it sounds, though, what with that bark of his.
She often goes out into her yard, lays on her back, gazes up at the clouds and wonders "why?" and "who?" and "clouds?"
He covered canvas after canvas with a variety of shades of blue until his guest bedroom was full of these pictures of blue. Once he was done, he would put on a warm sweater, pour himself a cup of tea, grab a handful of roasted cashews and sit there, staring into these blue worlds he had created. It was, at the same time, the oddest and most normal thing he had ever done.
She awoke with a start on the midtown bus heading east surrounded by stuffed teddy bears, fermented food products and the best damn jingle those television ad execs will ever hear.
He sometimes wonders why he runs - is it for the exercise, the piece of mind or to escape that pack of hungry wolves who in turn seem to be running purely for the exercise and piece of mind.
He covered canvas after canvas with a variety of shades of blue until his guest bedroom was full of these pictures of blue. Once he was done, he would put on a warm sweater, pour himself a cup of tea, grab a handful of roasted cashews and sit there, staring into these blue worlds he had created. It was, at the same time, the oddest and most normal thing he had ever done.
She awoke with a start on the midtown bus heading east surrounded by stuffed teddy bears, fermented food products and the best damn jingle those television ad execs will ever hear.
He sometimes wonders why he runs - is it for the exercise, the piece of mind or to escape that pack of hungry wolves who in turn seem to be running purely for the exercise and piece of mind.
She was known back in high school as a "girl most likely" type which was as much of a curse as it was a blessing, mostly because she went out of her way to make sure that it was and because she just couldn't settle on whether she was a girl most likely to convert her backyard into an impromptu pig farm or become an investment banker or a creative mix of the two.
He had been told from an early age that he should "never bite the hand that feeds him" or "never bite any hands at all because, like, who does that?" or "stop licking your lips while threatening to bite my hands all together or there will definitely be no ice cream!"
She was known among her circle of friends as the one with no neck, which was either playfully ironic, vastly incorrect or both.
He came home and carefully removed his shoes. He placed them on the floor, among the other pairs and went downstairs. A few hours later, he walked by and, while it could have been just his imagination getting the best of him, he could have sworn the shoes were huddled closer together, whispering about him. Later that day, he walked by again and he could swear that he heard his name followed by laughter followed by an amazing impression of him, or at least the best a shoe could have pulled off on short notice. Finally, on his way up to bed, he passed the shoes again and could have sworn that they were not only conspiring against him, but also rallying the boots and slippers to join the revolution. In the middle of the night he woke up with a start and at the foot of the bed were his pair of shoes. Trembling, and barely able to control his shaking, he slowly realized what he had to do - cease consuming expired dairy products.
She awoke, all of a sudden, on a train having no idea where she was, where she was going, how she got on the train in the first place and why her compartment was full of men named Steve.
He fondly remembers his youth picking corn on hot summer days, picking corn on warm summer nights, and picking corn as summer turned to fall. And in the winter, he danced.
She sat at her dining room table and cut strips of green paper with her trusty scissors. Next, she carefully cut out red circles. Equipped with her stripes of green and dots of red she waited and waited for the next set of cryptic instructions from her boss who also happened to be a rubber tree plant.
He sat on a chair in his backyard and closed his eyes. The wind blew, rustling the leaves on the trees. A light rain began to fall. His skin was soon covered in goosebumps and his hair became damp.The day was slowly consumed by the evening. And through it all he sat on his chair, partially out of pride, partially out of loyalty and partially because he had spontaneously and aggressively told his girlfriend that he "planned to sit on that chair all night long and that there was nothing she could do about it".
She was told by her co-workers that she was glowing these days, which she appreciated. She kept the secret of literally bathing in olive oil to herself because she was sure they wouldn't understand which, knowing her co-workers as she did, would invariably lead to tons of exasperated confusion, mystified bewilderment and chaotic uncertainty around the workplace.
He came home and carefully removed his shoes. He placed them on the floor, among the other pairs and went downstairs. A few hours later, he walked by and, while it could have been just his imagination getting the best of him, he could have sworn the shoes were huddled closer together, whispering about him. Later that day, he walked by again and he could swear that he heard his name followed by laughter followed by an amazing impression of him, or at least the best a shoe could have pulled off on short notice. Finally, on his way up to bed, he passed the shoes again and could have sworn that they were not only conspiring against him, but also rallying the boots and slippers to join the revolution. In the middle of the night he woke up with a start and at the foot of the bed were his pair of shoes. Trembling, and barely able to control his shaking, he slowly realized what he had to do - cease consuming expired dairy products.
She awoke, all of a sudden, on a train having no idea where she was, where she was going, how she got on the train in the first place and why her compartment was full of men named Steve.
He fondly remembers his youth picking corn on hot summer days, picking corn on warm summer nights, and picking corn as summer turned to fall. And in the winter, he danced.
She sat at her dining room table and cut strips of green paper with her trusty scissors. Next, she carefully cut out red circles. Equipped with her stripes of green and dots of red she waited and waited for the next set of cryptic instructions from her boss who also happened to be a rubber tree plant.
He sat on a chair in his backyard and closed his eyes. The wind blew, rustling the leaves on the trees. A light rain began to fall. His skin was soon covered in goosebumps and his hair became damp.The day was slowly consumed by the evening. And through it all he sat on his chair, partially out of pride, partially out of loyalty and partially because he had spontaneously and aggressively told his girlfriend that he "planned to sit on that chair all night long and that there was nothing she could do about it".
She was told by her co-workers that she was glowing these days, which she appreciated. She kept the secret of literally bathing in olive oil to herself because she was sure they wouldn't understand which, knowing her co-workers as she did, would invariably lead to tons of exasperated confusion, mystified bewilderment and chaotic uncertainty around the workplace.
He went to the store to buy some glue. He didn't just buy some glue, he bought all the glue. And then, then he started to make everything sticky.
She fills pages and pages with nothing but passive aggressively-drawn commas and intentionally improperly-used semi colons as her way of saying "take that mom!"
He often closes his eyes and escapes to a world full of the most high-maintenance, over-the-top demanding and completely demeaning fairies and elves that, while beautiful and a welcome break from the boring redundancy of his real world, just makes him wish his imagination did a better job.
She regularly and quite gleefully pours salt into wounds except for those horrible, soul-searching moments when she runs out of salt and she is forced to take a break, sit down, reflect upon her decisions and wonder out loud "HAVE YOU BOUGHT ANYMORE SALT YET, FATHER!"
He finally took his therapist's advice to look within himself which, while quite informative, led to a super long and drawn out conversation with his parents about exactly what he was doing in the garage with flood lights, large amounts of gauze and the bathroom mirror.
She fills pages and pages with nothing but passive aggressively-drawn commas and intentionally improperly-used semi colons as her way of saying "take that mom!"
He often closes his eyes and escapes to a world full of the most high-maintenance, over-the-top demanding and completely demeaning fairies and elves that, while beautiful and a welcome break from the boring redundancy of his real world, just makes him wish his imagination did a better job.
She regularly and quite gleefully pours salt into wounds except for those horrible, soul-searching moments when she runs out of salt and she is forced to take a break, sit down, reflect upon her decisions and wonder out loud "HAVE YOU BOUGHT ANYMORE SALT YET, FATHER!"
He finally took his therapist's advice to look within himself which, while quite informative, led to a super long and drawn out conversation with his parents about exactly what he was doing in the garage with flood lights, large amounts of gauze and the bathroom mirror.
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