The beauty of the African sunset disguised the danger lurking nearby.

He knew what he was supposed to do. That had been apparent from the beginning. That was what made the choice so difficult. What he was supposed to do and what he would do were not the same. This would have been fine if he were willing to face the inevitable consequences, but he wasn’t.

He heard the song coming from a distance, lightly floating over the air to his ears. Although it was soft and calming, he was wary. It seemed a little too soft and a little too calming for everything that was going on. He wanted it to be nothing more than beautiful music coming from the innocent and pure joy of singing, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was likely some type of trap.

She wanted to be rescued, but only if it was Tuesday and raining.

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The paper was blank. It shouldn’t have been. There should have been writing on the paper, at least a paragraph if not more. The fact that the writing wasn’t there was frustrating. Actually, it was even more than frustrating. It was downright distressing.

They improved dramatically once the lead singer left.

What if dogs were racist? Would they care about fur color….. “son, only play with other tan dogs”? Or maybe it would depend on breed, “honey, only play with other German Shepards, never poodles”. Better yet it could depend on occupation. “I’m a sled dog while you’re only a running companion, leave me alone”. Maybe the neighborhood they live in could be the way they choose which dogs to associate with and which to shun?

He wasn’t bitter that she had moved on but from the radish.

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