The things that go bump in the night.
âHow did you sleep?â said Mom, unloading the dishwasher.
âOh,â said Abigail. âYou know. The no-seeâums as usual.â She didnât want to flip Mom out so she didnât elaborate: the overdrawn Visa; Jonnyâs tuition; her injured shoulder from where the box fell in the Amazon warehouse. But Mom knew anyway. She always knew. She was Mom after all. She was a bear.
Mike stared at the ceiling--two oâclock a.m., and the no-see'ums were at him again, biting. Why had she left him? He was a good guy. Maybe because he couldnât treat her as lavishly as she wanted. And anyway, everyone was going to die. Perhaps it was that at the bottom. And there was nothing he could do about it. Was there? God was good, wasnât he? No, said the no-see'ums, there is no God. And all went dark.
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When the guy in the row in front of you canât get his in-flight flick going.
âYou should have seen it,â Belinda tells Jack when he picks her up at Sky Harbor. âThis douche bag couldn't load Frida and threw a tantrum, ripping off his mask, throwing his phone and storming against the flight attendant.â
âThatâs AA Ventertainment!â says Jack blithely. âItâs not the first time and it wonât be the last. Oh,â he adds. âWere there casualties?â
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âDude, donât go to the Van Gogh Sensurround for your birthday,â said know-it-all Mei-Mei, âitâs only awesome-ish. Hit Little Island instead, thatâs way trippier.â
Knut the aspiring model checks his look in the mirror â even with new cheekbones, just awesome-ish, he thinks sadly. Next, the lip plump.
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Adj., overly forward male suitor.
It was time to quit the Ramble, Panda knew, when the ridickulous combover next to him on the bench cleared his throat, put a hand on The Good Oneâs Carhartted knee and began to praise the Norway maples. Panda just went there for the birds.
Archie said, "I may be intersex and whatever, but that doesn't mean I appreciated ridickulous purple-tanned Brad in a rainbow speedo bouncing up behind me last summer at Cherries On the Bay."
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A tough season in which you might need a little extra antiseptic assistance, whether mental or physical.
Ms. Jerri left a top seat at Interpol under a cloud but with her head held high: âItâll pass,â she writes primly in a personal email. âNothing but a trifling wetsnap.â
âWeâre packing for Armageddon,â BooBoo pronounced as he dumped sand out of his shoe. âMarcy, round up the H2O, SPF30plus, wild-sourced grits, a pair of good tweezers and plenty of first-batch Vitamin D in case we hit a wetsnap. Iâll go hotwire the neighborâs Volvo.â
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The lengths American women will go to present a perfect bosom.
âShoot, theyâre out of stock,â Desiree told Prima as the pals cruised aisle 8 in CVS. âThey told me the Hollywood Breast Lift Tape would be in today!â
Prima offered what comfort she could. âDesiree, Lawson will jump your bones regardless of flop sweat. You donât need to climb Mount Titerest. Remember how it used to be when you were first hooking up.â
âRight,â Desiree countered smugly, âHe loved my big mama foomfy teats.â
âNipple rouge is a thing, isnât it?â teenager Sally shyly asked Mother Goose, pulling her away from the other kids at St. Catherineâs Center for Youth. ââCause Jayden and I have a date for the walk-in later and I just feel⦠too pale.â
âNo worries, hon, we donât have to scale Mount Titerest,â said Mother Goose. She prided herself on her ability to ârelate.â âI have some frozen raspberries Iâve been saving for the right moment. Youâll taste good, too!â
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When your fire breathing dragon of a brew is deemed unsuitable.
Brian took a sip and set his cup down by his chair. He cleared his throat. âCould I get a bit more milk for this?â he queried coffee freak Samantha. âOr some more hot water to dilute it?â
Coffeeshamed again. Then again, Brian was from Tampa.
âThey sold me a bag of Komodo Dragon beans by mistake at Starbucks,â fumed Angie, speeding to her home in Appleton Wisconsin. âI wanted Verona! And Iâm having the inlaws over for brunch. That stuff is high-fidelity. I know Iâll be coffeeshamed.
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