rednaboxocrayons
There are various ways to look at this situation. I could have been completely disheveled for the rest of my life, digging in dumpsters and such looking for sustenance to refrain from taking the life of humans; however, where would the fun in that be? I hopped the two feet to the ground and established not only eye contact, but a ferocious character.
As if I thought this day could get any more dysfunctional, I found myself curled beneath the park bench muttering to myself and wondering where I had left my keys. It was unlike me to be scatter brained, but that was easy for me to scream from where I was huddled with a giant coffee stain down the front of my once stark white shirt.
It was a strange consistency, sponge like, but more coarse. It almost resembled steel wool. And yet it was a rock. It was hard to imagine this was what a meteor felt like.
His sideburns brush with that simple prickle against the smooth side of her cheek. He could feel her chest tighten as she inhaled hard and pressed closer to him. Her lips just barely parted and a dim smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Styrofoam was her obsession. It seemed that there was always a new use for it. Whether that be a door stop or a new couch she knew it was cheap and light and quite affordable. Yet whenever he came over she felt the need to store everything in the guest bedroom so that he would never know the secret of her insanity.
He fiddled with the gadget, which was making an odd noise. It resembled something like what a cow would sound like if it gargled seltzer in the ocean with an octopus tentacle shoved down its intestines. Now all I could think about was cows and when he started to bang the thing on the table I decided I should go find a hamburger.
Since I was no taller than the tallest blade of grass I had always longed to sail, and for my fifth birthday my father had built me a boat. It was a sturdy thing made of pine and its resin and it floated well... until the wind blew it upon the rocks.
She sang in the beauty of moonlight, pale skin glistening like luminescent mysteries, and I could not help but stare. Her breasts bare and supple, firm in the cold of night, holding the light as if they were in the core of her being. And her song, that of any siren leading a sailor astray, was what ultimately drew me into the clearing.
The scene was about as serene as an elephant dancing on its tip toes after hours behind the bar. That is what Krista was like everyday. Just that clumsy. But today I could have cried as she manage to trip over her own over sized feet and plummet over the edge of the building. Oh Krista. Dear sweet Krista.
The panel all stared and I felt completely self conscious as if someone had taken off all my clothes before these strangers and were scrutinizing ever inch of my body looking for flaws down to the last skin cell... ah, who was I kidding? How many times had this been the scenario of a night of fun at the local bar? I couldn't wait to hear their remarks.
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