I could spend an hour watching her garden

I could spend an hour watching her garden and nothing more! And even when off-angle, tilting ever-so-closer to complete balance, both physical and mental balance I enjoy the view.

from behind and below--looking up through the forest, across the chasm, and into the opening--gliding into immortality--not stopping until reaching the ultimate goal.

"GOOOOOOOOOOAL!" shouted Saint Peter, his pale hands raised above his head. The band of angels began to play "Hail to the He'n'ly Host" as the Lord declared it a victory for all

regurgitated a hotdog in perfect shape, put it back into the vendor’s tray and took the money from his hands. The whole stadium seemed to be stuck in a never ending time loop,

but the fans weren't aware of it because when the game reset, their memories reset as well, every moment thenceforth being a replay of the previous run. This groundhog day repeated

until there was a glitch that rendered everyone unable to use verbs. Once everyone got sick of using nouns, they decided to search for a recovery file. When they ran it, memories

were completely erased--gone--forever. The End. Just kidding. This story is about to take an incredible twist: memories are worthless when you can't remember.The only left is sex.

Since the only left was sex, the Founding Fathers didn't see a need for a Bill of Lefts. Sex as the only left was like forgetting the sea when designing a Man-of-War. Twas assumed.

But t'was it assumed correctly? For the Man-of-War could no more forget the sea, than the Founding Fathers could ever have been supposed to have sex with Bill. So I left.