“I can smell you. Can you smell me?” It was the weirdest note I had found in a bottle washed up on the beach yet.
After a day of careful consideration, he felt sure of his conclusion: the rhombus was the most erotic of all the geometric shapes.
“Will tomorrow at 9 a.m. do?” the woman from Human Resources asked, her voice as pointed and professional as her shoes. ” ‘Fraid not,” I responded, “I have a giant hangover scheduled for then.” Damn it if I was going to let a potentially large salary distract me from collecting the unemployment checks that were rightfully mine.
Unfortunately for her, my sister’s wish for a hamster was granted at around the same time I developed an incurable interest in taxidermy.
Alone in the kitchen, Gretta felt a sly pinch on the curve of her buttocks- “At last!” she exhalted, “Gerald finds me attractive again!” She turned around to embrace him, only to find an empty room. She sighed. That poltergeist was really getting TOO fresh.
The young hitchhiker’s NIN t-shirt and hollow, basement-dwelling gaze left me no doubt that he had at least one pet snake and an expanding collection of knives under his bed.
The copy editor was momentarily pulled from the melancholy lull of computer spreadsheets when the birdy girls began to whisper furiously about the somewhat rotund flesh of their female cohort—little did they know what the future held for their own thighs, little did they know the vengeful thoughts of a lowly copy editor.
He stuttered his way through his fear mantra, but the beast wasn’t impressed.
Insofar as I know.
Personally, I, for one, myself, wouldn’t have dared to make such an assumption, and yet it was inevitable that Eveline did, for she was as dense as a German forest.
Harold thought his days of being the life of the party were over when he was diagnosed with leukemia—until he got the idea to tattoo his bald head to look like a giant magic 8 ball.
