“Nothing escapes it,” whispered Mr. Alton, appearing somewhat mystified. “The sense that we are being pillaged.”
Desmond Ogg, Waving Fields of Alfalfa.
There were no bird sounds. The day was dawning, but there were no bird sounds. Stoffels was the first in his group to notice it. No birds.
Victoria Salt, A Compendium of Opening Lines.
“It took all of fifteen-thousand dollars. Fifteen-thousand, Rosie! What a handsome sum that is. If sums can be handsome.”
Nathaniel Mist, A Light Pleasant Drowsiness.
“It’s good! It’s good! It’s good! Everything’s good. It is just good!” Danny had convinced himself that this bit of mocking sing-song was fit for all purposes.
Charles Jeffrey Yett, Writing in Miniature—Vol. Three.
Is reality still?
Godfrey Tooke, Collected Aphorisms.
Anne no longer liked the color red. And she was intent on telling all of her friends.
Jason Starling, ed., Adventures in Narrative Parsimony.
“Wanting to be admired is admirable. I believe that, Debbie. For the life of me, I just do believe it.”
Brooks Westerby, Squaresville.
Aye their oar.
Andrew Tertullian, Pandora’s Ponderous Puns.
Eye their ore.
Andrew Tertullian, Pandora’s Ponderous Puns.
She heard the footfalls, and looked up suddenly. But she wasn’t afraid. She seemed genuinely curious about who was approaching her in the darkness.
Bertram Worcester, The Smiling Killer.
dennis scharnberg 