Running late, Tom searched for his luggage among the bags going around. Too many looked the same. He screamed, grabbed one, and left.

Vern put on his tap shoes. He danced, having just finished his memoir. Suddenly, he stopped, wondering if he should include the dancing.

Saw my enemy from ninth grade, Ted Nedland, walking on the road. I lunged the car forward. “Look out!” yelled my wife. No time to explain.

Wondering if I am real. Am I just a character in a story? My past seems vague, my future limited. Please, if you made me, let me know.

“God, help me,” Doug cried. The sky opened up, God reached down and plucked him up. Part of the new personalized customer service plan.

Marco loved high heel shoes on women. He loved them on himself even more. It made his mother regret the time she made him wear a dress.

Tommy found his mother on the floor, her back broken. His mind rushed back to the walk home, paying no attention to where he stepped.

No one saw it coming. The students took over on the first day of school, led by the kindergartners, who weren’t yet drones of the system.

Psst! It’s me…I mean you, from the future. Don’t worry, it works out. You’ll be wrongly convicted but meet your true love in prison.

The water came and washed away everything. I wondered if God was playing with his toys the same way I played as a child by the stream.

On his 50th birthday, Phil saddled a giraffe and rode through town. His wife waited patiently as he reclaimed the dreams of his youth.

Alone in my cabin, hidden from the world, I ate a peanut butter–banana sandwich to celebrate my birthday and thought back to when I was king.

Barry stared at the empty side of the bed, finally realizing no one was coming to complete his life. This was it. Time to start living.

“My day is better than yours,” Kevin taunted in his Facebook status update, unaware the others had already been evacuated from Earth.

There you were, walking along holding hands with our minister, Rick. Just weeks after the children and I said goodbye to your ashes.

Gerald cared for his mom’s neglected plants. Grateful, a fern felt compelled to speak, “Thank you.” Terrified, he got rid of the plants.

The doctors attached a younger arm to my body so I could throw the ball downfield. Now, if they could stop the hits to my 70-year-old chest.

The scar was part of Don’s charm. Women would ask about it and he would tell the elaborate tale, although the truth was he fell in the shower.

My body broke down on the long journey. With no spare parts available, I discarded it and continued on my quest for enlightenment.