life is what you make it, mona lisa reflected sadly.
i hate you, frank x johnson responded promptly on cue.
do you know any good books about life? mona lisa persisted doggedly.
i have one in the trunk of my car. i never got around to looking at it.
death was silently approaching, unknown to the two interlocutors.
the street was empty except for the two of them.
mona lisa loved potato chips.
frank x johnson was content to stand on the corner watching the world go by.
internal revenue man, who hated orange juice, suddenly appeared.
mona lisa and frank x johnson ignored him.
i would love to have a serious discussion of the issues, internal revenue msn asserted plaintively.
swell girl rode by on a green bicycle.
she disappeared down the street without contributing to the discussion, such as it was.
some day this will be different, mona lisa suddenly blurted out.
frank x johnson made his exit. leaving mona lisa alone with internal revenue man
internal revenue man had no love for frank x johnson, and began abusing him in no uncertain terms.
eternal hurricane drove up in her cherry red convertible.
you look like death, she informed mona lisa. brusquely.
death holds no horrors for me, mona lisa replied pompously.
i wiil see you all later tonight, eternal hurricane replied, and drove off.
i hate to see her go, internal revenue man mused thoughtfully.
swell girl returned on her bicycle, but did not reveal what she had seen up the road a piece.
a cloud passed overhead.
night began to make its oncoming presence known.
the experienced one came walking up the road with her bulging backpack.
but it was too late in the day for her to make a strong impression on mona lisa, internal revenue man, or swell girl.
the experienced one told a joke, but the others neither laughed nor cried.
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