Wednesday, January 25, 2006

571.

He became prescriptive.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

570.

A good upbringing is prophylaxis for the soul.

569.

The little girl sang in lilting voice, "He is good; He is good; And his love endures forever..."

568.

Friday, January 20, 2006

567.

A post-it note: EAT CAKE.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

566.

Run, sprint, jog, trot, trudge, plod... all the same thing, really.

565.

The coffee ran in the bloodstream, awakening the giant.

564.

Doing is easier than managing.

563.

He unpacked his laptop with swift movements. He imagined himself a soldier.

Monday, January 16, 2006

562.

She had Jesus in her heart and Winnie the pooh on her underpants.

Friday, January 13, 2006

561.

They leaned into each other. Suddenly, they were lovers again.

560.

Somewhere, in between then and now, she lost her soul.

559.

We all try our best to be happy, don't we? But for some of us, we can never be completely so.

558.

He wrote steadily, a footnote a day.

557.

Long-life rain, that was what her father called it.

556.

This really was one of his less inspired posts; yet he liked it, a lot.

555.

554.

He brought with him the rain.

553.

It was the wrong colour, the wrong number of slides, the wrong content.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

552.

Now and forever.

551.

She wept for things she had not lost.

Monday, January 09, 2006

550.

Powerpoints are made by magick.

549.

Because of this, ek tutu.

548.

Her organisation system -- quick pencil scribblings on the side of coloured paper files.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

547.

No, it was not an orgy.

546.

She was flying to Canada to marry all four of them, one girl and three guys.

545.

He went to church for a pair of earrings.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

544.

Red, yellow, pink.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

543.

Definitely a symptom of insanity.

542.

He took potshots. If you are skilled enough to join the dots, you will know his name.

542.

In between red and white, the essence of cotton candy.

541.

It is all about finding enough space.

540.

He stared into space, stewing in his own coffee breath.

Monday, January 02, 2006

539.

She wished time would turn back; yet, knowing this future, why should she even bother?

538.

The thought pierced through the thin veil of time.

537.

Suddenly, in the middle of the dried goods aisle, the reds got redder, the greens greener, and she felt reality slip from her like a falling silk handkerchief.