The world is my oyster.

I went walking with my mama one day when she told me what people say. Live your life untill love is found, cause love's gonna

Heron crouched behind the stack of wooden crates and tried to focus on the scene just ahead of her. It was hard to concentrate with all the gunfire going on, but she knew this was

Five inches. That was the sad part. It was just five inches short, but it could never be fixed.

Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies

I sensitively applied pressure to the rusty door which then fell out of its frame and hit the ground with such a bang that might wake the hounds of hell.

This story will end after 10 lines.

Danny used a homemade pond life viewer made from a toilet roll with clear cellophane attached to the bottom with an elastic band, to examine the contents of his soup carefully.

All she could think about was him. She looked forward to the day they actually came together but to her disappointment,

I was driving through a stretch of desert west of Flagstaff when I heard Dr. Margulis on a radio talkshow discussing the Gaia Hypothesis. "We're entering menopause. Expect hotflash

Hogwart's, of course, was the preeminent school for young wizards in the wizarding world, but for those of the magical bent not bequeathed massive amounts of gold by their parents,

This place smells like rotten eggs.

I stood alone in a crowded place, a sprawling old mansion in a cramped part of town. Houses in Southside had room for perhaps a tree, or a little driveway in the front yard, but...

She destroys the bathroom in a private jet after suffering from a heroin-induced case of the runs. To pin the blame on another passenger she takes a huge amount of expensive

I told myself to not give them any subtext indicators or anything that could be construed as subtext indicators. I dragged their noses in how meta it was. I even wrote this sentenc

Mormons knocked on the door. Mom-mom said, "You, go talk to them. Pop'll sneak around behind 'em with a slingshot." I begged, "Make me not your sacrificial lamb," and hid under

It's a dreary Sunday afternoon, and Martha has been starring at a blank screen for two hours.

The Red Devil was flowing through her veins, waging war once again, breaking through cellular barriers, battering down both good and evil. She screamed in victory, baldly declaring

"I'm a feather duster and I'm okay." "That's fantastic. Could you dust my house for me?" "NOT TODAY." The PETA activists had arrived, plucking the feathers and returning them to

The end.