First Season At The Unicorn Ranch
The pails of lemongrass milk we yoke out to slake them will be the same to pick up their poo: pink for girls, blue for boys. Noisome as a teenage pageant winner’s bedroom, it reeks of very horny flowers with a pollen fetish. If left uncollected the deep pheromones attract an unsavory population... I'm not talking about the diamond lice that we inspected their horns for each day...
My Mass Shooter Fantasy
I have a fantasy where I stop a mass shooter by talking to him. I can’t be the only one.
...that empathy is a limited and local resource. Expanding one’s desire to empathize with an increasing number of people spreads it thin like too little butter on too much bread.