John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences reminiscent of Nancy Kerrigan's teeth
He saw her for the first time that night
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its sides gently compressed by a thigh master
And a deep, throaty, genuine laugh. Like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up. He was in love.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making a breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without ClingFree
It began to rain. Mary's hair glistened like a nose hair after a sneeze.
The raindrops leaped from the pavement, like maggots when you fry them in grease.
Shots rang out! Mary ran like a freight train that had left Cleveland at 6:00 PM traveling at 55MPH
John chased her. He had a hungry look, like the kind you get from not eating for a while.
She was his now. No way out of the abandoned building. The scene took on an eerie, surreal quality, like
When you're on vacation and Jeopardy comes on at 6:00 instead of 7:00
Realizing there was no way out, Mary rose gracefully en pointe and extended her slender leg behind her,
Like a dog at a fire hydrant.
She jumped 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.