On Monday, Oliver fell on his face.
On Tuesday, Oliver fell down the stairs.
On Wednesday, Oliver fell on a girl.
On Thursday, Oliver fell in love.
On Friday, Oliver fell into a ring store.
On Saturday, Oliver made it all the way down the aisle without falling even once.
Cowering under a table, Lee listened and waited.
They were coming.
Lee saw their socked feet move through the kitchen, past her hiding place. They stopped outside her bedroom door…
…then flung it open, shouting, “Surprise! Happy Birthday!”
She stifled a scream, scrambled out from under the table, and fled.
The heifer chewed her cud. It was thicker than yesterday’s. Oh, what was that? There was something crunchy in her mouth. Cud wasn’t supposed to crunch. Had she eaten something unusual? The heifer couldn’t remember.
In the burning depths of Hades, Cyborg George massaged his seething soul, already plotting revenge.
THE END
(Or is it?)
“I ate a bumblebee.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I wanted to feel it buzz around inside my belly!”
“And can you feel it?”
“Nope.”
“Well that’s too bad.”
“I figure it’s just bored in there.”
“Oh?”
“That’s why I’m going to swallow another one to be its friend.”
“Stop! You’re making me uncomfortable! No! I said back off!” Sharon stumbled away and sank to her knees on the grass, tears welling up in her eyes. “Don’t touch me! I’ll scream!”
Sighing, the Wind turned to leave. It was beginning to think it would never find someone to love.
She danced like a bird; she danced like a gazelle; she danced like a hurricane.
She danced like chocolate; she danced like a song; she danced like a rainbow.
After the accident, the doctors say, though her body was motionless, she danced in her mind, painting pictures in their EEGs.
What could I write?
How could I tell him not to call, that I was going away and no longer needed him like I had before. Every day since we’d met he’d brought something fresh and new into my life.
The truth! Yes, the truth.
No milk today, thank you.
This guest story was written by Louise C.
The summer sun shone down bright and hot on a highway filled with impatient, upset drivers.
Horns were blaring as frustrated police officers tried to direct traffic through a single open lane.
The driver of the overturned Smuckers tanker truck sat on the ground in handcuffs, chuckling softly to himself.
“It’s gonna rain today!” declared Old Oliver. “I smell it in the air!”
“It’s gonna rain today!” declared Senile Sam. “I feel it in my knees!”
“It’s gonna rain today!” declared Geriatric Jim. “I hear it in the wind!”
“It’s gonna rain today,” said Teenaged Tracy. “The television told me.”
The combatants circled warily. Darcy made an exploratory feint, but Rick didn’t bite. Darcy darted forward again, but Rick dodged the attack and tried for a quick pin. Darcy fought free, knocked Rick down, and made the winning pin.
“Rematch?” said Rick.
“One, two, three, four; I declare a thumb-a-war…”