On her way back into the bar, her wig caught hold of the exit sign. She fell backwards in her flip flops, without the hair.
Fifteen minutes before sleep, an insomniac texts himself a record of the day in 140 characters or less.
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The old golden retriever tried in vain to get back up. ‘Good try,’ said his equally ancient owner as he pulled the dog and his own pants up.
My Facebook account has been deactivated for impersonating Charles Dickens. At least it can never again suggest I make friends with my exes.
A foreign accent describing Jupiter keeps me awake. She makes up for each wrong aspiration with a shout, and misplaced vowel with a scream.
Offended I forgot his name, he yelled at me, ‘Barack what Obama? What?’ until his friend called him a cab.
The little girl in the sundress put on the laytex glove. ‘Where’d you get that?’ asked her tired mother. ‘The hospital.’ And back they went.
A plane is circling my hood, wasting fuel so it won’t explode during landing. I cross fingers it crashes near, so I can claim a sick day.
