The cereal sat in the bowl limp and crunchless. He wanted to cry. She reached over and said, Your life isn’t awful enough to write a memoir.

The rain fell endlessly upon the city. All the jokes about developing gills had been exhausted. Artists discovered brand new shades of gray.

At the end of the date he kissed her and said something else and she finally had to admit that she didn’t speak the language of love at all.

No one knows what the theme of the party is. The only people really comfortable are the clinically depressed. So the fruit punch is popular.