His was a character unlikened to any ever recorded in the annals of history. He was one of the noblest specimens of humanity that ever wore a jacket of grey. His soul was as pure as the driven snow, and his heart as clear as the crystal waters.
For writing not only comes out of the zoo but (to be hypermetaphorical) goes back in again.
By junior high, where every forty-one minutes the bell signaled a four-minute parade of hyper-hormoned bodies through sweat-scented halls, Gayle, with her long hair, clear golden skin, and high, tight curves, was, no contest, the finest girl.
The sun has gone down - what's that dooking sound? It must be trick or treating time. I glance across the bedroom floor and I see Chinook and Nikomi's ferret eyes.
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