Fred surveyed the landscaping disaster. The xenobiologists had assured him that his prized Zephirine Drouhin roses would be left alone to grow for two years.
Swan Vee considered her options. The ink was barely dry on the sheepskin before her mentor banished her from Swamp Logos. Her home since birth, the swamp represented the womb of familiarity, the hearth of confidence and the shield against the unknown.
Tim and I have reached a climax. This phase of our research has come as a surprise to us both. So much blood, sweat and tears have gone into this endeavor: blood from the pigs, sweat from Tim's nasty undershirts and my tears of frustration.