Somehow, by some act of God or the Devil or someone between, his dog has been transfigured into a block of cheese.
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I wonder whether she’s praying, or meditating, and whether she’s prone to impatience, but the 01:01 train arrives before I work it out. It takes four minutes to depart; four minutes to expose the translucent creature perched in her place.
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Saunders waded even deeper. This time he floated on his stomach, observing through the transparent pool floor a flock of people who were most likely unaware that he was their omniscient god.
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Generally speaking, I came out pretty well! Well, except my brain fell out of my head.
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Holding a large pinwheel lollipop in his left hand, he ran his, undoubtedly sticky, other one along the shelves, displacing and muddling the displays.
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