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There once was a very wise man. And like all wise men, he was very inquisitive throughout his lifetime, for one must be inquisitive to accumulate knowledge. Toward the end of the sage's life, a young boy approached and asked a question:
It was a calm day at the local grade school. The first graders had made little butterflies out of construction paper and hung them on the classroom wall. All was as peaceful as an elementary school could be. Lunch passed, and recess began.
"I'm not the filler for your emptiness. I can't be. No one can. It's a black hole; anything that enters is devoured. You think I'm so special; you think I'll fix everything. I am not your personal religion. I am not your savior. You refute all abstract beliefs yet you stubbornly subscribe to this one. And most of all, you think you can fix me. You think I have your problem," she said.
There's one thing that comes to mind when I think of spring break. You can probably guess what it is (however if you cannot it does not mean you are an unintelligent, ignorant fool).
It was a normal sunny day as I drove down Hallaway Street. Stopped at a red light, I noticed a man run out of an adult bookstore with a gun and some loot. He must have just robbed the place. Even though I was off duty, I decided they might need a little assistance inside.