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May 23, 2005

Michele: Nightswimming

His little legs kicked and kicked and he struggled to get some kind of lift off, but the substance was thick and murky, and he only sunk down further.

What the hell is this? Lentil? Pea? He forgot the color differentiation between the two and futilely wished that he had paid more attention in safety class.

Finally, his repeated kicking attempts pushed him close enough to the edge to feel that safety was in reach.

And then he heard those dreaded words, the last heard words of so many of his fallen brethren:

Waiter, there’s a fly in my soup!

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Comments

You are teh suck.

Posted by: Sekimori at May 23, 2005 6:41 AM · Permalink

HEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEE

Posted by: Laurence Simon at May 23, 2005 11:11 AM · Permalink

That is hilarious!

Posted by: JimK (No Relation) at May 23, 2005 1:41 PM · Permalink

In light of the current state of affairs in my life, I have to admit I'm feeling an unseemly amount of empathy for the protagonist in this story...

Posted by: MikeR at May 23, 2005 2:22 PM · Permalink