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Week 310: It's Like This
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He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up. (Susan Reese, Arlington)
She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword. (Tom Witte, Gaithersburg)
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any PH cleanser. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef. (Brian Broadus, Charlottesville)
Her pants fit her like a glove, well, maybe more like a mitten, actually. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs. (Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall. (Brian Broadus, Charlottesville)
Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened. (Sue Lin Chong, Washington)
Outside the little snow-covered cabin, a large pile of firewood was stacked like Pamela Anderson. (Meg Sullivan, Potomac)
A branch fell from the tree like a trunk falling off an elephant. (Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster. (Sue Lin Chong, Washington)
The painting was very Escher-like, as if Escher had painted an exact copy of an Escher painting. (Joseph Romm, Washington)
