That environmental biologist’s unsolicited, free-floating tabloid factoid – that the difference between the petrichor of dusty city streets and arid wastelands is due simply to an instant overgrowth of fungus-like animalcules enlivened by flash desert rains – seems as insightful as an amateur poetaster stumbling at haiku.
Our confidence in their local travel safety waned dramatically after some jehu racing an old car at 40mph roared past our tiny equipage, bushwhacking our advance by spooking the horses to jerk, careening the carriage and depositing the luggage (which after five weeks of hostels was our only vestiary – mostly of soiled habiliments) all over the roadside.
Poor Jezebel, with uncontained arrogance about her erratic passion turned malignantly jealous – albeit her husband agreed to an open relationship – felt the penal system odious to limit her peregrinations within her current purlieu of the recreation area outlined by a high, barbed wire fence.
Vamoosing the party, as tag-along guests, seemed ripe when Bret’s high functioning schizophrenic brother proved our Jonah – especially when the hostess started coddling and dandling her new baby – when he distractingly perseverated on spontaneous neonisms, such as “Jonahbelly, neonnerdisms, acadumbic and pineapplevamoosa.”
None were surprised why, in the last week of April, the Prelate issued dogmatically a ukase banishing the pagan Beltane Festival to an incommodious rural venue, finishing ceremoniously by tossing with his left hand a folded black rectangle of very coarse dowlas over a corner of the alter.
Ceremonially, shivarees in the palustral lower bayous symbolized matrimonial efflorescing, with noisy paired revelers clad in drab, earthen colored coarse fabrics, sinusoidally trailing in filtered sunlight the newlyweds donned brashly in vividly colorful dowlas.
Charisse's rapid emergence as a successful wedding planner was fueled by her ken to logistical organization, knack to osmose all things hymeneal and, as a freelance consultant, tirelessly bootstrap her business niche with indelible flamboyant ceremonies.
From a nutritionist’s viewpoint, Relanda’s polymorphous two year transformation from an anemic vila-like pantywaist to a muscled martial arts champion held no catastrophe ahead for his health, a particularly not for his social life.
The ringside tauromachian jamboree doubly erupted, as much over the unexpected early glancing gore from behind during the matador’s grandiose first veronica, as his axiomatic flash mood flip from gallant and showy to glaring and shirty – upon effacing tradition by unsheathing his sword for the second pass.
Code-named Xiphias (with a swordfish embroidered on his olive drab jacket), the tall dark traitor carrying a small worn book inconspicuously slipped into a back alley door, revealed the cryptic marginalia on page 14 to others in the shadows and was admitted to join his turncoat cohorts already ensconced for the final rendezvous.
In the thick palm arrangements of the hotel’s ramada, Karl had centered his decades-old memorabilia in a small, classic museum vitrine for close viewing at his veteran pilot's honor party, particularly General Eisenhower’s commendation, an old Polaroid of Karl flat-hatting a full air show bleacher, and the small Gideon’s Bible with his profuse personal marginalia – his only enduring companion during two years of fierce fighting and loss of close friends.
Multifaceted multiculturalism, as a political bombshell – argued as its theoretical yang of integration towards unity and practiced yin of insidious divisiveness towards fractionation – was filleted at every hearing with bicameral aspersions and banal solutions as apropos as issuing astronauts ditty-boxes.
Peregrinations of hiking coastal roads to peddle services of cleaning fire-damaged homes, fuliginous and dirty as it was, became the new meme of a group of nature watchers who had heretofore simply hiked between forest cottages armed with fabric repair kits in hand sewn ditty-boxes.
Evidencing a clarion shift to self-serving political maneuvering, Joey’s cute-hoorism – concocted whining argumentative tricks to exaggerate his needs after the sheriff’s unfounded disseise of his ranch in the brotherhood’s farmlands – set the grange’s behavior abaft of their entrenched higher ethics.
Maleeka was her village’s notorious pariah because she chose an ascetic, childless life when younger – interpreted by seers as the “parable of the barren woman” to warn other girls – and often stood rebelliously with both arms akimbo at high tide on a shallowly submerged skerry in the inner islands, further confounding skittish village gawkers who believed she walked on water.
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