She deals with the fussy kid by pouring chocolate candies into his hands. His parents won't find out until later.
At the lake's edge, she pleads with her friend on the other end of the line. Her friend has slipped into an inexorable state of mind, and no pleas will move her.
Sharing a window seat and sipping apple cider with rum on a chilly day.
Elephants are so weirdly awesome. The configuration of their anatomy, their perceptiveness and intelligence, their size, their apparent emotion. They're fascinating.
We're not close; there's no strong love between us. Our hug feels like a tentative touch to a wound.
I swing between having hope in humanity and thinking we're just complete wallowing morons.
He thinks his words are gold coins; he's pouring them out for us beggars, and we should be grateful. But all he's doing is tossing us some pocket change and bits of lint to go with it.