repeatfailure
He stood on top of a mountain and looked down. He saw nothing. Without hesitating, he jumped. Gong.
His house was completely covered in leather. The walls, the couch, the bed, the refrigerator, even the garden. I went outside to feed the dog, half expecting him to be covered in leather too; he was.
Flying kites. I see them dot the sky, their ribbons trailing behind them. I remember when I flew kites. That was before you died. I remember how the sky was blue, and not the sickly shade of green it is now.
The balloon hung limply from the string tied to her wrist. It used to float high up in the air, but now it dragged lamely on the ground.