clichés
Nothing travels faster than bad news, and this news hit me like a ton of bricks. The love of my life was riding off into the wild blue yonder. My mind froze and my brain reeled as I tried to plan the best course of action. I was between a rock and a hard place: should I rode off into the sunset after her, or go what had been drilled into me—” Twas better to have loved and lost that to never have loved at all.”
The handwriting was on the wall, and the die is cast: I will follow her to the end of the world. I knew that when I caught her I would have to walk on eggshells, because she would stick to her guns.
After many moons, I caught her. She had her head in the clouds thinking about the barrel of money she was going to make. I told her to get off cloud nine and lend me an ear.
“Let me cut to the chase,” I said. “I know I’m not God’s gift to women, and I don’t want to toot my own horn. But I’m tired of playing cat and mouse.”
“Maybe I had been a little pig headed,” she replied.
So we got hitched, and lived happily ever after.
Cliché © Bryane Skew
