Sequenced

With a wide sweep of his arms, the richly endowed elder said, “All of this, my lad, is what we call ‘life’ and we’re all in it together.”  And his less empowered listener said, “But some more than others.”

After being confronted yet again (for the four thousandth time, by his reckoning) with the ballyhooed glitz and glamour of celebrities' lives, this one chap muttered that, at times, his own seemed to be no more than “stock footage.”

One purpose of memory and history is to get sequence in proper order.

On a certain vaguely familiar, if not redoubtable world, their term, “to make new friends,” means to “beat up strangers.”  (But it’s beyond me why you call it “vaguely familiar.”)

One somewhat large little fellow, who had recently come to believe that he was “held by the heady grip of love,” discovered that he was wearing his shorts too tight.

J.