The ultimate quiz
about across act another back beat beauty bell bicycle black both bottom box brown but butter buy by cake centimetre church classroom clock clothes cook (vb) could counter cow curtain dead deaf doll duck else enough evening farm fast fly front full fun God grass grow half hard hat head hearing-aid heavy horse into jam jar Jesus jump jump just keep kind king laugh learn leave left length less litre live long loud love lovely lunch may might minute miss Mr Mrs name near o'clock orange over own parcel parent past pick place playground playroom playtime polite postman pound powder pretend pretty pull purple push quarter queen question read ride rough round rude sad sand scissors self send shall should shout sign sing small smell smooth snow so soft sound speak station stay stick (vb.) street sun sweet swim take talk tap teach telephone through too top toy train turn uncle volume way week weight word would year These are all words you should know if you are the ultimatest.
Have you ever wondered how ultimate you are well know heres the chance to find out. Dull pressure and needle like chest pains urge Kathyâ??s sluggish brainfrom the unconscious realm of a Saturday morning sleep. The fat black cat kneads, purrs and crashes his head into hers. She pulls Satchmo off her chest, scratches his chin, ears, rubs his belly, and whispers promises of food. Sophie, her curly fur ball, barks and displaces Satchmo. A lavender laced breeze filters through the screen, reminding her that there is dirt to dig, flowers to plant and mulch to spread. Gentle tapping from the next room assures hers that her sweet partner isalready up and sending joy through cyberspace. She contemplates a morning of coffee and cards, then yard sales and yard work. Her throat constricts as she realizes that this is the sacred stuff of her life. Sophie licks her face clearing the tears of gratitude. Kathy Robinson, Asheville She saw herself as the heroine of her own literary affairs du coeurs. Sheâ??d had three husbands, an interdimensional relationship with a famous Russian, a liaison with a younger lover doing time in the federal penitentiary at Butner. Her most recent passion was with a man whoâ??d left due to fear of his own magnificence. Drama spilled into poetry, stories, novels. It was her identity, her inspiration. She wore mostly black. At fifty-nine, however, she became too wise for sorry stories. Angst loosened its narrative grip. She stopped coloring her hair, let it wind free in wild silver curls. She smiled a lot. For the first time, she experimented with the possibilities of yellow. But then, sitting in front of the keyboard on this almost spring morning, chickadees trilling in the bare branches of a sycamore, she wondered what in the world she could write about now that she was happy.
