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The rusty nail stood erect, angled at a 45-degree angle, just waiting for the perfect barefoot to come along.
Although Scott said it didn’t matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn’t really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.
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The delicious aroma from the kitchen was ruined by cigarette smoke.
The boy walked down the street in a carefree way, playing without notice of what was about him. He didn’t hear the sound of the car as his ball careened into the road. He took a step toward it, and in doing so sealed his fate.
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He walked into the basement with the horror movie from the night before playing in his head.

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