A stray hamburger in the middle of the freeway stopped traffic for three hours. The news crew came in helicopters to film the event and conduct interviews. The hamburger had nothing to say. It was there for only one purpose: to be eaten. But who would eat it? It had been laying in the hot sun and there were probably bugs crawling on it now and at least a few people had wheat intolerances.
Mrs. Whittaker paused from grading papers to appreciate the room. The kids were engaged in what’s called Flexible Learning, working in what is called Flexible Groups, to accomplish Flexible Goals, based on a Flexible Curriculum. The class almost ran itself, although Whittaker had a very important role as professional educator—to applaud loudly these children’s talents, to cultivate their unique gardens, to preserve and prepare their individual snowflakes only to release them at the end of the year, ice crystals now advanced in length and complexity, for three months of summer and another teacher’s care.
Ogg and Grog strolled through the beautiful prehistoric environment. The sun was shining brightly, and the air warm, with just the slightest chance of Ice Age. All around the world seemed to be at peace.
“What a lovely day it is in 3000 B.C.,” Ogg proclaimed.
“B.C.? What’s that?” Grog asked.
“Before Christ. It’s the other one I can never remember.”
Once upon a time there was a child who had the misfortune to be born in a kingdom with some extremely socially sensitive fairies. Shush, you asked for Sleeping Beauty, and so that’s what I’m giving you. I know I’m not reading it, I’m telling it, that’s what people used to do all the time, you know. When? Once upon a time, that’s when. Anyway. So once upon a time.
The first question people ask after your inch-high girlfriend has been carried off to the ladies’ room by one of her girlfriends is some variation of “So what is your sex-life like?” Refreshingly absent in the asking is the usual leering grin that accompanies friendly inquiries into intimate affairs. Rather, the look is more often one of deep concern – severe, even. The question is a fair one, and I will answer it for you in due course; there are, however, other things you might be interested to know about dating a woman who is one inch tall.