Cleaning out shelves, coming across movies I used to like and books I've forgotten about.
Chasing an almost-chocolate flavor in a supposedly healthier variant of ice cream.
The dog looks mouse-like with her new haircut, especially when she wiggles between our feet in search of crumbs.
The woman sitting next to me is pregnant and uses her belly as a shelf for the book so we can both read from it.
In the dark, it's the neon shorts, t-shirts, and crop tops that are the most visible parts of the joggers, who advance in a 3x3 squad. They look like a collection of colorful squares and rectangles that rise and fall piston-like against a gray screen.
He sings about "sticking it to the man" (or something to that effect), and it sounds tired and lame. The sentiments of rebellion have been commercialized.
By the streetlights, the trees have an icy green-blue tint, as if they've been flavored with mint.