the Intersection of Main and Elm
Here's a simple sentence with a lot of opportunity. See where you can take it!Cyrus Markham stopped abruptly at the intersection of Main and Elm streets, forgetting which way he was supposed to turn.
Cyrus Markham stopped abruptly at the intersection of Main and Elm streets, forgetting which way he was supposed to turn. Did he go in the direction of the dancing pink elephants, with their little bottles of soda pop carried in their trunks, or toward the purple dolphins which arced up from the asphalt, balanced on their tails above a sign for a popular travel agency, then dove down into the sidewalk. Glancing from one to the other, he felt a wave of dizziness followed by nausea and stomach cramps.Stupid, horrible, nasty decongestant, he thought. The drug turned a normally pleasurable stroll through the virtual ads into a painful nightmare.
A woman waltzed up to him, wearing a costume of garish red and orange feathers and carrying a tray of beers. Her painted lips formed a broad smile, then she opened her mouth to began her speil about the wonders of her product. Cyrus swept his hand through her image to shut her off.
Only she wasn't a hologram.
She crashed to the ground, her beers shattering on the pavement, her feathers ripping. She screamed. A police whistle screeched in Cyrus's ear, and a beefy, non-holographic hands grabbed his shoulders.
The woman pointed at him and jabbered in a foreign accent, the few recognizable words accusing him of various abuses and sex crimes.
"Spread 'em, buddy," growled the gorrila-sized cop into his ear.Cyrus sighed. Mondays had never been his favorite day.
I think we can assume I have a migrane today.