Four lines of prose about: the reporter.
The Canucks lost tonight, but I'm hoping for them to bounce back hard on Sunday.
We're heading to the market tomorrow morning with a lot of tomato and herb plants, along with a hearty helping of rhubarb. We know it won't be a big business day, but we're excited to get back there.
With the daily deadline minutes away and his editor wearing a trench in the hallway outside his office, Eric continued to fight a losing battle against fatigue. The perfect phrases and descriptive words that normally came so easily to him appeared to be hiding behind leaping sheep and fluffy pillows.
With a shake of his head, he forced his attention back to the screen in front of him and wiped a bead of sweat away from his forehead. He had no choice but to come through for his newspaper; he knew his job depended on getting the report on the traveling poodle ballet show impeccably immaculate.