“That statue is sad,” she said aloud.
The other girl frowned and asserted, “That statue is perfect.”
To which she replied, “exactly.”
(133 characters)
I’d rather be a lump of play dough in the artist’s warm hands – always shaping me to his liking than be perfect stone forever wearing away.
(139 characters)
“Your loaves are like door stops. You aren’t good at bread making. Why do you do it?”
She replied simply, “I knead to please him.”
(130 characters)
The recipe instructions read, “knead until blisters appear.”
She kneaded for an hour and sighed with dismay at her still smooth skin.
(133 characters)
I can’t decide which way to lick is better – cold, but always wet and ready or warmed and melted into a sweet, sticky puddle. (136 characters)
(special thanks to aura for the new term in my ever-expanding dictionary – slutsicle or is that slutsickle?)
When I want a wholesome treat to fill my mouth, I wrap my lips around a peeled, firm, thick, banana and suck down the sweet creamy goodness. (140 Characters)
Sometimes, I need to crack open the hard shell of a coconut so that I can sip the sweet nectar then consume the moist flesh trapped within. (139 Characters)
There are times-most times, perhaps-I wish I was tiny enough to crawl into your pocket and hide from the world while being always close to you. (143 characters)