Mar was silent. There wasn't much she could say to change things, let alone fix them. They just stood there, lost in thought, staring out toward the horizon where the rain clouds were starting to roll in.
The unnamed told her about how he’d heard the story of Snow White and the seven dwarfs, and how he actually wanted to join them since he was on the shorter side himself. He sounded genuinely distressed, almost heartbroken, because he couldn't find a single lead on where they might be hiding. Mary just listened with sympathy. She wasn't sure if she should just break it to him that they were nothing more than fairy tale characters. She just asked, "But what if you don't find them?
The unnamed meadow was in full bloom. It was packed with all sorts of flowers and plants, some beautiful and others medicinal. You could practically taste the floral scent hanging in the air.
"...everyone is everything... everyone is everything... everyone is everything... everyone is everything... everyone..." The thought just kept looping in his head while he sprinted across the field, desperately trying to outrun a stampede of elephants that refused to let up. "EVERYONE IS EVERYTHING..." That internal mantra was actually louder than the trumpeting elephants, and the pounding in his chest felt more intense than the actual tremors shaking the ground. Way off in the distance, he could see the scorched remains of a city.
Mary sat on the bench, swinging her legs aimlessly. She chewed her gum while staring blankly at the park, looking completely checked out. She was wearing a red summer dress with big white polka dots and white sandals. She was waiting
"Hey, what are you drinking?" Smith shoved him, jolting him awake. They’d already had plenty to drink, but since it was Smith's birthday, he wasn't about to let anyone go thirsty.
lost in his own head, still dreaming about Swan Lake. He was clearly blown away by the ballet performance featuring Alexander Guzejev, that young, brilliant dancer from Washington, D.C.
- That was just Rachel Palmer56 venting about herself while she peeled potatoes and calculated how many Pizza Hut crusts she’d need to feed 50 people at her wedding 🙂
On was on the phone, his voice cracking and trembling as he started stuttering through the words: "G-g-good afternoon, could I sp-sp-speak with the highly r-r-revered Mr. Pu-pu-pu... Putin?"
"...idiot... the damn doors... the heating!!!" - she yelled at the top of her lungs, because the front door was standing wide open while it was -5 outside. Honestly, I don't blame her for being pissed.
Three pigs roasting on a spit out in the yard. It was snowing, everything else frozen solid, but the fire under those pigs kept crackling defiantly, sizzling away and sending out an incredible smell that made my mouth water.