While I’ve mainly been writing expositorily lately rather than fictionally, I did write this on my friend’s Facebook wall yesterday for his birthday:

Friday night the Elephant went to a party in search of the Gorilla, but the Gorilla was nowhere to be found. And instead of getting to spend some time with her, the Elephant spent the entire night trying to dodge a Kangaroo and a Giraffe that kept wanting to talk to him about parasitic worms and My Chemical Romance, respectively.
The Elephant left the party early claiming he had a headache, which he did. He also wasn’t having any fun, disappointed she wasn’t there.
He thought the only thing to come out of the evening was him being stood up by a more than averagely attractive primate, but he surprised himself later that week when a coworker mentioned his daughter was listening to music played by musicians who wore black eyeliner and sang depressing songs about unrequited love and the Elephant said “Oh, yes, that’s called Emo.”

I’m pretty proud of it too.  And it’s pretty obvious I just read Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk by David Sedaris.


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