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Sweat marched on his brow, to pillage his composure and burn his eyes.
The hairs of his mustache spun themselves onto his lips, dancing their 8-legs when he dared to be silent.
Frost builds on the unheated glass, clear but now hard to see through.
Rare are her smiles, so he collects and tags them to be recalled later, when time permits and he’s alone again.
She loosened her fingers from her palm, hoping he’d make use of them sooner/now and not when they’ve tensed again.
He forgets the weight of words on shoulders bearing the stress of being his wife.
They wash their towels after wading in the mold of their shower.
Children ask, “why?,” to better understand; adults state why to avoid having to understand.
The endless, “why?,” should always be used to help understand every situation. Dig in; don’t walk away.
Adults tend to skip the why’s. (Homophone on purpose.)
I work backwards so I can know how to get where I already am.
Life is easier when you show your work; otherwise, people seem to think you’re a simpleton with epiphanies.
Always dry your hands before you start drying dishes. This logic can be used for anything else you may be doing.
I now prefer, “make sure your hands aren’t wet before drying the dishes.” Less redundancy, more imagery.
They’re usually the smartest one in the room, unless they catch themself in the mirror.
Push, pull, remain.
She has complete control only inside her house; otherwise, she lashes at everyone.
We’re all puppies. Not weeds in a garden.
If you weren’t a baby, I might call you a name.
She talks with her whole mouth.
To the blind reader, what’s written means what they’re told.
They breathe with their teeth. A real teeth-breather.
He finds time to whine. He berates to settle into himself.