A Casual Quip Between Friends

   As our plane descended, the dense forest developed texture, like a warm bumpy green knitted sweater.  Beside me, Virgil gripped his leather-bound journal hard, leaving indentations and most likely fingerprints.  
   "Virgil," I said.  "We've flown to the Amazon countless times--"
   "I know!" His voice carried over a three row radius.  "Don't tell me to get a grip.  Or so help me, Kris!"
   I turned to hide my grin.

The Past is Full of Pandemon-idiom

   A stick-in-the-mud met a behind the times man at a hole in the wall.  She would never dress to kill, and he had a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.
   After one look, she pegged him as another fuddy-duddy.  In half the time, he pinned her as a halfwit.
   As a friend of both, I can say, yes.  They're a pain in the butt.

Parted and Precious

   My grandfather waited twenty years to open a bottle of vintage port that my grandmother had given him as a surprise.
   Tonight would be their fortieth anniversary, and he sat in vigil beside it, lighting a candle.  His hands shook, but his eyes were steady.
   It took years for grandpa and grandma to find one another.
   And in a way, they were both still as distant as the stars.

My Childhood Ideal

   A pink ballerina ornament hanging from the Christmas tree twirled to musical bells and chimes.  She spun round and round in a slow, rhythmic circle.  Her toes bent to a perfect point and her gracefully lifted arms never flinched in fatigue.  Through all of her pain, she managed to look beautiful.
   Looking beautiful was all that mattered--all that was valued.
   She was an ornament.
   She was a woman.