What can YOU say in six sentences?
Albert placed one foot in front of the other, slowly, decidedly, in the rusty soil as he made his way towards his weekend hammock and tried desperately not to think about cosmic rays and how they would hang up space travel. He wanted to call it silky earth, that stuff under his feet, then wondered if other worlds, other feet, felt the silky coolness under similar toes. They would never call it terra cotta, he was sure. Albert hung three inches above the brown grass in the faded white net of his hammock, tracing pictures in cotton clouds. His wife looked out the kitchen window wondering if he was having another heartburn dream and she prepared herself to listen to his gentle ravings, hoping he'd write it all down later because something--SOMETHING--had to come from the visions he seemed to receive after he ate at Subway. Albert stared at the robin's egg sky, studied white cotton clouds, watched skittish finches go by looking for fresh water, and he wondered why the crows, big and certain, were the first ones to fly away when motorcycles went by.