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Waiting for me in the ringing chamber are ropes, draped in the air like a giant arachnid.
In the cellar to get laundry, I am once again surprised by the sight of ripe cherry tomatoes.
The Empire State Building looms outside my window like a giant hypodermic needle.
The candle appears like an apparition in my darkened room, aglow without a flame.
The sculpture caught me by surprise, like some malevolent spider on the wall.
As I wander around this small, tourist town, I just keep thinking, “Why lighthouses?”
I’m walking in downtown Houston when a sign gets all in my business.
My daughter and I are gawking at a mushroom that is small, shiny and gaudy purple.