The sniffer dogs suddenly stiffened, barking.
Grandma’s Google searches were patently felonious.
The hitman’s trademark; home-cast golden bullets.
Entranced, the President pushed the button.
Manuela tossed condom necklaces to tourists.
They scattered Grandpa’s ashes outside Bastogne.
Cigar smoke rose from the basement.
Un-ironically, they played the Starwars theme.
The faded map mocked her daydreams.
Crones sewed shrouds for the children.