Gloria knew intellectually that bees and insects were necessary to ensure pollination and thus guarantee future generations of her kind, but those tickling little feet just drove her around the bend. Why couldn’t they just hover like humming birds? . . . . David, Sf.G.
When Lila asked her mother “Why are we purple?” her mother looked thoughtful for a minute and then said, “Lila, I think you are old enough to hear the truth, but you must keep it in the family. Many years ago, back in the beginning, there came a very special man called “Prince” who told the world about Purple Rain. This special purple rain only falls on a select few in the world, giving us our beauty. This was back near the beginning of the world, around 1984″. . . . . . David, Sf.G.
Glenda had no choice; she had to appeal to the U.N. genocide commission. In the US, of all places, there was an entire industry dedicated to wiping out her kind. What had dandelions–always sunny and cheerful–done to attract that kind of collective anger towards them? . . . . David, Sf.G.
When word of the Pink concert to be held in Houston hit, some of the Texas girls decided to go, but instead of the usual “Think Pink” or “We Love Pink” T-shirts, theirs said “Quit politickin’ and telling us all how to run the world and who to vote for, and just sing” . . . . . David, Sf.G.
The food had been excellent, but the service surly and poor, at the Red Hat Society’s weekly luncheon. It turns out that the restaurant owners, Venezuelan political refugees from their homeland, thought the Red Hat Society members were showing respect for and mourning Hugo Chavez . . . . David, Sf.G.
Karen had a love/hate relationship with the “All You Can Eat” places; at the time it seemed to be such a good deal, and she could eat a lot, really get her money’s worth. The next morning, though, she always felt bloated and sluggish, not to mention dealing with a fair dose of guilt, and besides the food being lukewarm and mediocre on a good day, who knew what the person in line ahead of you may have left in the sweet and sour chicken? . . . . David, Sf.G.