Concertos and drabbles

Itzhak Perlman is God. This is all I have to say.

But seriously, he hits every note with such accuracy that it's impossible not to feel the piece singing around you. He forces you to revert to clichés about soaring and flying and lyrical strains. There is literally no way to put it into words.

It's fragmented purity, or unadulterated beauty, or something. Something that must have a big word to describe it because it's so big that it deserves a big word. I'm not making much sense, am I?

I tried to write today - I really did - but every time I sat down and settled in some new yard sale crisis emerged, or I had to go and deal with meals and other household tasks in lieu of my otherwise occupied parents. I'm going to write tomorrow, dammit. Just try and stop me.

Came across an old challenge from sunday100 which provided me endless drabble ideas. The challenge was to pick titles from McSweeney's Lists and write drabbles to fit them. I now have about six million plot bunnies hopping around in my head. *sigh* Well, my first attempts are below.

( 27 - Popular Pickup Lines Used by Serial Killers )

( 28 - Probable Locations of Trans-dimensional Portals )

( 29 - Things My Friend Fabio Said Recently )