He floated toward her. She’d already flown away.
“You smell like flowers.”
“Preposterous! Flowers can’t smell.”
“You smell gross.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
Rover wagged his tail, vomited love and tacos.
The dog barked longingly at the passing jet.
He couldn’t stand crowds (or people in general).
Her faithless husband asked for forgiveness yet again.
For his daughter, he wore the tiara publicly.
The cat purred despite Leon’s failure at life.
Fred could not imagine a better imaginary friend.
The empath read his thoughts and wept quietly.
Life never let him stop and sniff anything.
She kept questioning, though she knew the answers.
He pulled out his Ferbie. The aliens ran.
He pulled out his nuclear warhead. They smiled.
He pulled out his Bazooka. The aliens laughed.
He pulled out his Beretta. The aliens laughed.
“Fire in a crowded theater!” He yelled expectantly.
His foolishness outlasted her patience and her love.
The cat and the canary were best friends.