‘Av, eight more hiding in this cave.’

The craft dropped noiselessly through the thin layer of cloud, leaving wispy spirals as the air rushed back in behind it. It fell seemingly without restraint or any method of saving itself, yet at the last moment its momentum decreased until it came to rest, floating just above the tips of the long blades of grass.…

The House yawned.

I glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time, then at the door, also for the umpteenth time.

The Household’s façade was dour except for its Bionicrustacean legs. It traveled to the rhythm of its own surly and sullen personality, which usually meant westward. It traversed only over the green rock formations of the Old Kingdom, typically near the Lake of Liquid Girls.

"Shall I clear, sir?"

Where's Spongebob?

The following is a verbatim transcript of the exchanges between light aircraft pilot Eugene Michael Clements and Wellington City air traffic control, from the first three pages of the New Zealand Civil Aviation Authority report.

He knew he was dying, and tonight was the night he would leave. Years of drug use had ripped him apart, and turned him into the husk nearing death now. He remained a kind soul, well loved by his community of the margins, the homeless and the forgotten.

Pavel thought of his cold concrete floor as a king-sized bed.

My wife. The glowing Space Banana.