Lieutenant Florence Franklin pulled back the hood of her parka as she returned to the bridge from the observation deck to report to Captain Katrina Townsend. "I know this is going to sound crazy, Captain." She paused. "There's something on that iceberg off the port bow."
I know I should pump the brakes for all the obvious reasons (preseason, Joe Flacco, who played/who didn't, and, of course, Joe Flacco) but following the Patriots 35-0 win over the Eagles, I feel a bit like Jack Burton in Big Trouble in Little China, in the elevator scene after drinking the magic potion. I feel pretty good.
Henrietta Hen shook out her feathers and clucked. It was morning. The sky was clear and blue. Today was the day. It would be a good day, Henrietta clucked.
Steven K lay on the couch in Dr. Ash Granger's office, recounting a dream. "It's like every night this past week. I'm at the grocery store and I'm shopping. Stock boys are putting goods on the shelves, other people are shopping. They smile as we pass each other. Their carts are full of food and household goods and I see some of them lined up to check out but I'm pushing an empty cart. Up and down the aisles. I'm checking items on the shelves, but I don't buy anything. But here's the weird part," he said.
Detective Lieutenant Scott Truman looked on as Police Sergeant Zane Stillman took pictures of the body of the dead woman on the floor. He looked out of the small back room through the doorway to the store front window of Lady Vadoma's Fortune Emporium. "You'd think she would've seen this coming," he said.
"Post hoc ergo propter hoc," Glenn said. "Though I think I prefer the more colloquial, if less technically correct, 'correlation is not causation'."
