Maybe Makes More Sense if it Was Formatted as a Poem

The dog ran out the door, barking and crashing into the chain linked fence separating the yard from the back lane. The girl posted a picture of herself and relished every “you’re beautiful” comment she received. Somewhere, someone dropped a plate. The shards scattered, tittering across the tiles.

“Your yearly review is coming up,” they said, making their voice deep and authoritative. “I think we will have a lot to talk about.” It had to be five o’clock somewhere. The children pulled their mittens and boots on, and wrapped scarves twice and tight, then went outside, wishing for falling snow.


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