A wonderful challenge. Reminds me of Felix Feneon's Novels in Three Lines. My contributions follow:
- We played tennis on a warm, dry afternoon. I missed every volley I returned. She gracefully conceded defeat and left with a wry smile.
- She polished her blood-red boots with particular care. She didn't polish much else. Sometimes there really is nothing to say. But she said it so eloquently.
- A drowsy turtle is a dilemma. To tap or not to tap? I did a bit of both. The turtle eventually arrived, but the hare was long gone.
- The stars perform in the windshield and demand the same in return. Our absent-minded kisses soon became inadequate. But she was a far more diligent performer than I.
- At the time, I never wondered why she laughed. She smiled when I touched her, over and over. She smiled when she drew the line. And she smiled when I brought her roses. She knew they were wilted, even if I didn't.
- Many are born administrators. Only a few realize it. She knew how to do things properly and gave careful instructions. There's no use pretending you can train the untrainable.
- Wild-eyed, I followed her home. So ripe, so wrong. An open secret: the hypnotized always act on their desires.
- She watched me laughingly in class, and I performed for her. I loved her best when she was gone, and I suspect she agreed. Exasperated, she dropped me once and then again. There won't be a third time.
- As a writer, she found the film academic. As a writer, she found the article dull. As a writer, she didn't much care for him. As a writer, I was done writing.
- Elegantly, she brushed out her hair. Daintily, she picked though her salad. Discreetly, she signaled her boredom. Quietly, I walked away.
