Wind rushed past his face.
There was an itchy spot on the back of his neck. He scratched at it absentmindedly.
Meanwhile, there was an itchy spot on his elbow. He scratched at it absentmindedly.
Meanwhile, there was an itchy spot on his back, underneath his parachute.
Oh yeah. Parachute.
Time passes slowly in a vacuum. Everything is still and silent. You are surrounded by nothingness. It is, unsurprisingly, difficult to breathe.
Boredom, depression, hunger, and asphyxiation vie for power over you, fighting to see which will kill you first.
One should avoid living in a vacuum. Hoovers especially suck.
The cow jumped over the moon.
The rabbit, which had a raging teenager-style crush on the cow, tried to follow. Unfortunately, the rabbit overshot its target and jumped over the sun instead.
They both landed in the ocean. Neither one survived. It was horribly depressing.
“It’s too late, Joe. I give up.”
“Come on, Terry, we still have to try!”
“I can’t. It’s over.”
“Well I’m not giving up so easily.”
“Then you’re on your own, buddy.”
“Fine! I’ll eat the rest of this chocolate cake if I have to suck it through a straw!”
King Goliath was proud and haughty. He ruled over Grenwald, the largest kingdom in the land. One day he was feeling so proud that he said, “If anyone can prove they are mightier than I am, I will give them my kingdom.”
These days Grenwald is ruled by a Queen.
“Thanks for the ride,” Missy said, climbing into the idling truck. It was approaching midnight, and she had been stranded on a silent interstate with an empty fuel tank. “Things couldn’t possibly get worse,” she complained.
The stranger grinned wordlessly. At least this one had provided some decent last words.
It was the dead of night. Silence reigned over the misty hills. A cricket chirped, then fell still as a malicious whisper overtook him. The moon highlighted the twisting shadows of the fog, as gradually the shadows took form. Ethereal shapes churned into being.
They were the dead of night.