Blind mice flew through the blind alley directly into the Venetian blinds installed at half price half a year before Conrad discovered the darkness that lurked within the heart of his cat.
Scuppered by the lonely Tupperware party, the arty Art drew a ring around April–come she will or won’t, as is her wont. Wanton wontons emerged from the blind alley at dusk, reminding the bloody tourists that squares were no longer tolerated in the square–in either dimension. Dimensionality suffered the fools who poked and prodded at the glimmer of leftover residue, being redundant or at least longsuffering on a starch diet, having forgotten if that meant only eating starch or avoiding all starches like the plague. But the only starch the plague ever avoided grew into a handsome lad and led the leaders of the pack in sensuous lieder while wearing lederhosen for breakfast (although lunch would have been more consonant).
But if they could learn to work the Venetian blinds, it would be a minor triumph of blind trumpets.
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Very interesting!
It’s a lot of fun. 😀
I had a comment, then WP put me through the %#}*+ password process and it’s too early in the morning for that kind of c$&p. Just take it that I’m enjoying your purpose-written almost-meangful words.
Nice to hear it! Glad you’re enjoying it. I enjoy writing it. 😊
That was both bizarre and truly hilarious. 🙂
That makes it a lot of fun to write! 😀
True Rick. <3
Very witty…I love the word play here.
😀