Slowly the tide receded, taking child’s broken kingdom with it. Also, the child because, let’s face it, it was a rip tide.
Tornado-chasing was fun until they started chasing us.
As Jeff ran through the rain pursued by wolves, he regretted replacing the umbrella’s nylon with pork thigh.
As he stood on a cliff overlooking a precipice above a fjord listening to the crashes of the sea waves against the tornado whirlpools of sand ravaging the shore, Jeff wondered if there were a better place to build this orphanage.
The rain fell mainly on the plains, as children in the surrounding region slowly starved to death.
“The weather is beautiful outside,” said Jeff. “But inside, she’s a warty whore.”
Posted April 3, 2009 at 11:09pm in weather
