Me, amphibious land mammal with impressive lung capacity. You, empty parking space next to busy hat factory. Our eyes met at netball practice. Please call me.
You, pre-programmable chess robot with penchant for ASCII art. Me, Serengeti carnivore with more antelope meat that I can eat by myself. Want some?
Saw you at the front bar on Thursday night. You asked about my parasites, I pretended not to hear you. Please call, I've changed my mind. You're cute.
Me, rare seventeenth century walnut sideboard with brass mounts on tripod feet, top decorated in pie-shaped marquetry design with scalloped border. You, cream of celery soup. I just don't want to be alone any more.
You, a high pressure weather system moving in from the East. Me, porcelain figurine of a seated cat. I think we can make this work.
Met in the carpark in 1972, gave you information for some Washington Post
article or something. I miss you. Can I see you again? I'd like that.
Saw you through a microscope at the lab on Monday afternoon. You were wearing flagella and the sexiest little pseudopod I've ever seen. Let's get together for dinner and dysentry; I forgot to wash my hands.
Me, salty old seadog. You, waterproof transistor radio tuned to pirate talkback. My crew doesn't understand me, but you do.
Me, seeks similar. Are you similar?
I was wearing clingfilm. You were decapitating a manatee. Your brother was only five centimetres tall and bore a striking resemblance to Roy Orbison. What was happening?
You, eleven-foot-tall shambling mass of matted hair and glistening slime. Please stop calling. It's true, I loved you once. But it's over.
---------------------------------[This story appears on the Visible Ink 'Soundtrack' CD.]