There’s so much art in the approach. It makes a difference – the cool and relaxed, yet gentle intrusion into a conversation, versus the stiff introduction and handshake. I’d say, if nobody talks to you, think about how you initiate.
“He approached me threateningly…” My blind date elaborated, “and so after multiple warnings to stop where he was, I shot him.”
“How many times?” I asked after taking a sip of my burbon. I’m sure my “blind” date was oblivious to my actual body language, because his eyes lit up with something alright.
“One man, one bullet. Saves the taxpayers.” He smiled crookedly, for it was not the sheepish smile of a remorseful killer. “That sounds cold, I know, but we’re underfunded enough as it is and it our lives on the line out there.”
According to the news reports last year, he fired 4 rounds and only 2 struck. The one that hit the drunk 18 yrold kid, whom he’d took upon himself to save from rising flood waters before he was supposedly “attacked” by the rescuee turned vicious killer, died from the bullet that hit a femural artery, but what did I know, I’m just a silly woman who must not keep up with the news. And of course the internal investigation found no fault with his story, even though the dash camera footage been never been released in its entirety. “No, I’m sorry, what I meant was how many times did you warn him before you decided he was a threat?”
His eyes narrowed on me. I placidly took another sip of bourbon. “Why do you ask?” He shifted his torso towards me, pretending or perhaps believing that this motion of his looked like interest rather than a defensive pose.
“You know, I read the other day that 1 in 4 women are domestically abused, but the number jumps to 2 in 4 if they are married to law enforcement. That’s at a rare worse than the NFL, if you can believe it. Not saving the tax payers on health care there. So, back to the original question, how many times does it take to let someone know you mean business before you use deadly force?”
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Paul said you worked with mentally ill people, so you should know if people would just listen, whether they think the police are right or wrong,” he began to say heatedly…
“Well, since you feel threatened by my questions,” I cut him off and stood up, “I’m going to have the rest of this drink up by the bar and you will stay where you are and not come near me. That is my only warning to you.”
As I walked away, I contemplated blasting our friend Paul, who is no matchmaker, with a searing text message. It must have been his idea of a practical joke, little did he know what I planned for him.
I was approached by a tall thin man in the dark with a wide-brimmed hat and an overcoat. I couldn’t see his face until he stepped into the pool of light cast by the street lamp. I then realized what he was as I saw his fangs. It’s a good thing I’m a slayer…
She approached in the darkest corner of the room. She didn’t have the courage to reach out to him in the more brightly lit areas–or areas where she could be heard. Here, she felt safe. The strobing lights and pounding music muffled her speech enough that they wouldn’t be overheard. Perfect. Now is the time.
I approached the squirrel quietly and carefully and slowly. we looked at each other warily. I stopped he stopped. We eyed each other. we acknowledged each other’s spirits as present.
they approached me on the the street. I didn’t seem them coming, nor had I heard them, just suddenly they were there. I looked around and there seemed to be no way to avoid the confrontation. I wasn’t sure what I’d do, what I could do. As they drew closer, put my hand into my pocket and met their gaze without flinching.
He approached her with a bunch of roses and a box of chocolates, you know the typical sorry gift. She looked at him with a solid stoney face, impenetrable, unaffected. This lasted about half a minute before cracks rapidly appeared along with tears and the sound of sniffs.
The cold night air made its way through my layers of winter clothes and to my bones. I stood there shivering as a man approached me, his arm outstretched, offering something to me. As he got closer, I could see he had a gerbil in his gloved right hand, which he continued to hold out to me. An expectant look filled his face as his eyes moved from my face to the gerbil, and back to me. I’ve never had a man approach me in a cold winter night and offer me a gerbil before. New territory has certainly been reached. I shook my head no, declining the now shivering gerbil and stretched my neck to see if the bus was yet in its way to my stop. I heard a disgruntled sigh from the anonymous, gerbil-offering man and I turned to see that a gerbil no longer filled his hand, but a four inch blade. He could tell I was about to scream, because that’s what people do when confronted with a knife or because of experience I don’t know, and punched me in the face.
Everybody hated history class, and especially the end of term test. Names were drawn from a big bowl, with every student’s name on a piece of folded paper. When called, they had to pick their question our of another bowl, then walk back to their desk to answer it verbally from memory. Nothing less than word for word reproduction of the text in the book was acceptable as an answer.But since there was not enough time to ask everyone, it was the luck of the draw, some of the questions were free passes.
When called upon, Tony stared hard at the bowl of questions as he approached the desk. Astonished, he spotted one paper that had nothing but squiggles on it. He furiously studied the papers around it, trying to figure out how to grasp that paper without appearing to be aiming for it, then he realised; all the papers were squiggles! Realising it was all a pretense, he lost all the nervousness that had been gnawing at him, and pulled a paper at random out of the bowl, handing it to the teacher with a new found air of confidence. As he turned to return to his desk, he realised; the teacher was deciding who to ask, and his stomach clenched again. But before he could show any further fear, the booming voice from behind him called him back. “Your lucky day, Mister Keyes!”
As the class went on, Tony noticed the pattern; the teacher was only questioning those who showed nervousness, fear, or a lack of confidence, taking it to mean they had failed to prepare for the test. His good eyesight, more than his hours of study, was what had saved him!
she was approached by the man that she assumed was walking past her. he wasn’t close enough for her to be his intention—til he was. he reached for her as if he knew her. so confident that she almost reached back. she jerked her hand when she recognized a stranger.
The blob of black stuff slowly approached from beneath the car. The man did not notice. He got out of his car, found a pack of cigarettes in his suitcase, lit one, and smoked nonchalantly. He did not notice until the blob was right under his feet.
Then it leapt up and enveloped him.
“GAAHH!” he yelped.
“Hi, Dad! Look, I’ve been bitten by a radioactive bee!” said the blob.
Six months, three days. It was the longest dance he’d ever entertained. He’d resigned himself to do it another six months, but within the blink of an eye, she climbed into his lap, and the dance came to a halt. The scent of her lemon shampoo filled his nostrils and her hands were all over him. He lost himself in the promise of her feral kiss, enjoying the pressure of her heat pressing into his crotch.
The tall, thin man approached the little girl with his tentacles stretched wide. His black suit was surprisingly quiet as he slithered along the creaky wood floor. The little girl with pig tails, absently playing with her dolls, was unaware of the pale, no faced creature that is about to sneak up behind her and consume her for his late night snack. Little girls were his favorite.
I watched her as she approached the bar. Black hair and black clothes, pale skin and dark makeup. There is no way that she could do a pull up. She looked like despised this class more than I did. Yet as she grabbed the bar it came tumbling down with her.
The small car approached its owner in hopes that he would claim some affection in the form of a scratch or possibly a belly rub. The cat was however disappointed to find his owner asleep. He had a devilish idea.
‘I’m going to wake him up’ the cat thought fiendishly ‘then he’ll know better then to ignore me’ the cat pranced his way up the couch where his owner was sleeping and placed himself firmly on his owners face. He then proceeded to curl up into a ball and fall asleep on his owners face
His camera in his hand and trying to keep himself as still as possible, he approached his subject. No extraneous movements. All muscled were so as not to allow any flopping, or waving, There it was, the dragonfly.
He approached the enormous dick-shaped obelisk with apprehension. It was dark and he kept a hand outstretched. He stopped just before his fingers reached the… shaft. What could touching this great monster mean? Could he activate something dastardly? Was it cursed? Would it feel… accurate?
He approached me from the shadows with such a quickness and a silence that I never expected to see him there. When the light hit his face, I was relieved to see who I had come across. And then I felt the sharp pain in my gut. As he twisted the knife and walked away I was left utterly perplexed as to what had really just happened.
I proached in front of the lake and saw a beautiful figure standing there. I wondered who it was. I tried getting closer and closer . My heart started beating faster and faster as I was getting closer. Then as I took my hand forward to touch her shoulder , she disappeared. I tried looking for her everywhere. None of the people around me had seen her. They were very rude and unapproachable as well. I didn’t know what to do
She had woken up without her plush rabbit, and rubbing her eyes, was surprised to find him missing from both her bed and bedroom. With a small, exhausted stretch, she stumbled out into the hallway, tiny fists scrubbing at the corners of her eyes, ears ringing dimly in the unnatural silence. Peeking into her parents room, she whispered for a reply, but received only a snore. Tired and a little miserable, she shut the door and padded further down the hall.
Then, turning the corner to the living room, she saw him.
Moonlight was streaming in through the curtains, painting the familiar room in hues of alien silver, washing everything in secrecy. And there was her rabbit, sitting on the couch, his little black eyes brighter than any buttons had the right to be.
She stood still for a moment, holding her breath, as her toy glittered in the dark. Was she dreaming? Was she awake?
Lifting a tiny paw, her rabbit waved.
And smiling, blissfully ignorant of time, the girl approached.
He approached the young woman. Of course he would. What man wouldn’t approach such an attractive young girl? Her her was long, sleek, and pitch black. She attracted all eyes. Little did the man know, the gorgeous woman had a girlfriend. How (not) pitiful for him.
There were the days when she sat and stared out at the trees. There were days when all she thought about was sex. His sex specifically. The tip of his tongue licking at her neck on its way to her ear. His heavy breathing. His hardness pressing against her thighs. She spent most of the winter in a haze of daydreams, but as summer approached she felt the weight of reality bearing down on her. She needed money. She needed a job. She would have to leave her room.
she sat quietly at the back of the restaurant waiting for it to empty out before she approached him. it wouldn’t be easy, getting him to agree, but she had to take this chance. had to run this risk. if she wanted information on her family, she had go to the one guy she had hoped she never would. she just hoped he’d forgive her
He bent, log-like, at the street corner. Matilda approached him cautiously.
“Excuse me,” she said, in a voice just above whispering, “Do you need a hand?”
The man shook his head in a weary way, and continued to stare out at the empty road. “No thank you, I am just fine.”
Matilda frowned slightly as she walked away, looking back at his strange, bent figure. The wind had a very sharp bite to it as it whipped down the alleyways and onto the road, tangling with the autumn leaves and catching shards of sleet. The old man had been standing at the corner for forty-five minutes, and she worried for him.
There she was. The girl of his dreams, along with her girlfriends. Always together, always having fun, always laughing. She was just beautiful. He approached the girl with the beautiful blue eyes.
He approached me from behind, and it was too late for me to react when his arms folded across my chest like taut, browned ropes. In the next moment, I heard a crack, like someone breaking a car window, and a short yelp. I felt my body lurch forward, free from my potential captor, as the man wound up lying on his back with his hand over his now obviously broken nose.
approached
a girl
a girlscout
a girlscout with cookies.
I used to sell cookies as a girlscout.
I was one of the people who sold the most
I want cookies
I don’t like Thin Mints
I like the gingerbread ones..and the peanut butter ones too.
There’s so much art in the approach. It makes a difference – the cool and relaxed, yet gentle intrusion into a conversation, versus the stiff introduction and handshake. I’d say, if nobody talks to you, think about how you initiate.
“He approached me threateningly…” My blind date elaborated, “and so after multiple warnings to stop where he was, I shot him.”
“How many times?” I asked after taking a sip of my burbon. I’m sure my “blind” date was oblivious to my actual body language, because his eyes lit up with something alright.
“One man, one bullet. Saves the taxpayers.” He smiled crookedly, for it was not the sheepish smile of a remorseful killer. “That sounds cold, I know, but we’re underfunded enough as it is and it our lives on the line out there.”
According to the news reports last year, he fired 4 rounds and only 2 struck. The one that hit the drunk 18 yrold kid, whom he’d took upon himself to save from rising flood waters before he was supposedly “attacked” by the rescuee turned vicious killer, died from the bullet that hit a femural artery, but what did I know, I’m just a silly woman who must not keep up with the news. And of course the internal investigation found no fault with his story, even though the dash camera footage been never been released in its entirety. “No, I’m sorry, what I meant was how many times did you warn him before you decided he was a threat?”
His eyes narrowed on me. I placidly took another sip of bourbon. “Why do you ask?” He shifted his torso towards me, pretending or perhaps believing that this motion of his looked like interest rather than a defensive pose.
“You know, I read the other day that 1 in 4 women are domestically abused, but the number jumps to 2 in 4 if they are married to law enforcement. That’s at a rare worse than the NFL, if you can believe it. Not saving the tax payers on health care there. So, back to the original question, how many times does it take to let someone know you mean business before you use deadly force?”
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Paul said you worked with mentally ill people, so you should know if people would just listen, whether they think the police are right or wrong,” he began to say heatedly…
“Well, since you feel threatened by my questions,” I cut him off and stood up, “I’m going to have the rest of this drink up by the bar and you will stay where you are and not come near me. That is my only warning to you.”
As I walked away, I contemplated blasting our friend Paul, who is no matchmaker, with a searing text message. It must have been his idea of a practical joke, little did he know what I planned for him.
I was approached by a tall thin man in the dark with a wide-brimmed hat and an overcoat. I couldn’t see his face until he stepped into the pool of light cast by the street lamp. I then realized what he was as I saw his fangs. It’s a good thing I’m a slayer…
She approached in the darkest corner of the room. She didn’t have the courage to reach out to him in the more brightly lit areas–or areas where she could be heard. Here, she felt safe. The strobing lights and pounding music muffled her speech enough that they wouldn’t be overheard. Perfect. Now is the time.
I approached the squirrel quietly and carefully and slowly. we looked at each other warily. I stopped he stopped. We eyed each other. we acknowledged each other’s spirits as present.
they approached me on the the street. I didn’t seem them coming, nor had I heard them, just suddenly they were there. I looked around and there seemed to be no way to avoid the confrontation. I wasn’t sure what I’d do, what I could do. As they drew closer, put my hand into my pocket and met their gaze without flinching.
He approached her with a bunch of roses and a box of chocolates, you know the typical sorry gift. She looked at him with a solid stoney face, impenetrable, unaffected. This lasted about half a minute before cracks rapidly appeared along with tears and the sound of sniffs.
The cold night air made its way through my layers of winter clothes and to my bones. I stood there shivering as a man approached me, his arm outstretched, offering something to me. As he got closer, I could see he had a gerbil in his gloved right hand, which he continued to hold out to me. An expectant look filled his face as his eyes moved from my face to the gerbil, and back to me. I’ve never had a man approach me in a cold winter night and offer me a gerbil before. New territory has certainly been reached. I shook my head no, declining the now shivering gerbil and stretched my neck to see if the bus was yet in its way to my stop. I heard a disgruntled sigh from the anonymous, gerbil-offering man and I turned to see that a gerbil no longer filled his hand, but a four inch blade. He could tell I was about to scream, because that’s what people do when confronted with a knife or because of experience I don’t know, and punched me in the face.
Everybody hated history class, and especially the end of term test. Names were drawn from a big bowl, with every student’s name on a piece of folded paper. When called, they had to pick their question our of another bowl, then walk back to their desk to answer it verbally from memory. Nothing less than word for word reproduction of the text in the book was acceptable as an answer.But since there was not enough time to ask everyone, it was the luck of the draw, some of the questions were free passes.
When called upon, Tony stared hard at the bowl of questions as he approached the desk. Astonished, he spotted one paper that had nothing but squiggles on it. He furiously studied the papers around it, trying to figure out how to grasp that paper without appearing to be aiming for it, then he realised; all the papers were squiggles! Realising it was all a pretense, he lost all the nervousness that had been gnawing at him, and pulled a paper at random out of the bowl, handing it to the teacher with a new found air of confidence. As he turned to return to his desk, he realised; the teacher was deciding who to ask, and his stomach clenched again. But before he could show any further fear, the booming voice from behind him called him back. “Your lucky day, Mister Keyes!”
As the class went on, Tony noticed the pattern; the teacher was only questioning those who showed nervousness, fear, or a lack of confidence, taking it to mean they had failed to prepare for the test. His good eyesight, more than his hours of study, was what had saved him!
she was approached by the man that she assumed was walking past her. he wasn’t close enough for her to be his intention—til he was. he reached for her as if he knew her. so confident that she almost reached back. she jerked her hand when she recognized a stranger.
The blob of black stuff slowly approached from beneath the car. The man did not notice. He got out of his car, found a pack of cigarettes in his suitcase, lit one, and smoked nonchalantly. He did not notice until the blob was right under his feet.
Then it leapt up and enveloped him.
“GAAHH!” he yelped.
“Hi, Dad! Look, I’ve been bitten by a radioactive bee!” said the blob.
Six months, three days. It was the longest dance he’d ever entertained. He’d resigned himself to do it another six months, but within the blink of an eye, she climbed into his lap, and the dance came to a halt. The scent of her lemon shampoo filled his nostrils and her hands were all over him. He lost himself in the promise of her feral kiss, enjoying the pressure of her heat pressing into his crotch.
The tall, thin man approached the little girl with his tentacles stretched wide. His black suit was surprisingly quiet as he slithered along the creaky wood floor. The little girl with pig tails, absently playing with her dolls, was unaware of the pale, no faced creature that is about to sneak up behind her and consume her for his late night snack. Little girls were his favorite.
She never knew
How he’d waltz into her life
Make a quiet impression
At first she lingered
Then he left her mind
But dear he came back
His award-winning smile
And perfect boy facade
And it all started with a hello
I watched her as she approached the bar. Black hair and black clothes, pale skin and dark makeup. There is no way that she could do a pull up. She looked like despised this class more than I did. Yet as she grabbed the bar it came tumbling down with her.
The small car approached its owner in hopes that he would claim some affection in the form of a scratch or possibly a belly rub. The cat was however disappointed to find his owner asleep. He had a devilish idea.
‘I’m going to wake him up’ the cat thought fiendishly ‘then he’ll know better then to ignore me’ the cat pranced his way up the couch where his owner was sleeping and placed himself firmly on his owners face. He then proceeded to curl up into a ball and fall asleep on his owners face
As the half year mark approached she knew it was time to lay it all out on the table. She would never know his heart until he knew hers.
A simple man approached me and asked a simple question. What makes you happy? I had no answer at the time. What makes me happy?
His camera in his hand and trying to keep himself as still as possible, he approached his subject. No extraneous movements. All muscled were so as not to allow any flopping, or waving, There it was, the dragonfly.
He approached the enormous dick-shaped obelisk with apprehension. It was dark and he kept a hand outstretched. He stopped just before his fingers reached the… shaft. What could touching this great monster mean? Could he activate something dastardly? Was it cursed? Would it feel… accurate?
when I have decided to travel it was big change for my life and I have definitely approached my dreams. I would like to keep going with that
Approached by a feeling of fear
Creeping up my toes
Over my feet
Expanding upward, forever upward
Along my calves
He approached me from the shadows with such a quickness and a silence that I never expected to see him there. When the light hit his face, I was relieved to see who I had come across. And then I felt the sharp pain in my gut. As he twisted the knife and walked away I was left utterly perplexed as to what had really just happened.
I proached in front of the lake and saw a beautiful figure standing there. I wondered who it was. I tried getting closer and closer . My heart started beating faster and faster as I was getting closer. Then as I took my hand forward to touch her shoulder , she disappeared. I tried looking for her everywhere. None of the people around me had seen her. They were very rude and unapproachable as well. I didn’t know what to do
She approached her. Her heart in her throat. Slowly, on tip toes, she approached. Only then did she realize she was chasing shadows.
She had woken up without her plush rabbit, and rubbing her eyes, was surprised to find him missing from both her bed and bedroom. With a small, exhausted stretch, she stumbled out into the hallway, tiny fists scrubbing at the corners of her eyes, ears ringing dimly in the unnatural silence. Peeking into her parents room, she whispered for a reply, but received only a snore. Tired and a little miserable, she shut the door and padded further down the hall.
Then, turning the corner to the living room, she saw him.
Moonlight was streaming in through the curtains, painting the familiar room in hues of alien silver, washing everything in secrecy. And there was her rabbit, sitting on the couch, his little black eyes brighter than any buttons had the right to be.
She stood still for a moment, holding her breath, as her toy glittered in the dark. Was she dreaming? Was she awake?
Lifting a tiny paw, her rabbit waved.
And smiling, blissfully ignorant of time, the girl approached.
He approached the young woman. Of course he would. What man wouldn’t approach such an attractive young girl? Her her was long, sleek, and pitch black. She attracted all eyes. Little did the man know, the gorgeous woman had a girlfriend. How (not) pitiful for him.
I approached god one day and then I realized that it was a dream.
Do we really know who we are? Or is it just an illusion.
Time to find out. Isn’t it?
There were the days when she sat and stared out at the trees. There were days when all she thought about was sex. His sex specifically. The tip of his tongue licking at her neck on its way to her ear. His heavy breathing. His hardness pressing against her thighs. She spent most of the winter in a haze of daydreams, but as summer approached she felt the weight of reality bearing down on her. She needed money. She needed a job. She would have to leave her room.
she sat quietly at the back of the restaurant waiting for it to empty out before she approached him. it wouldn’t be easy, getting him to agree, but she had to take this chance. had to run this risk. if she wanted information on her family, she had go to the one guy she had hoped she never would. she just hoped he’d forgive her
He bent, log-like, at the street corner. Matilda approached him cautiously.
“Excuse me,” she said, in a voice just above whispering, “Do you need a hand?”
The man shook his head in a weary way, and continued to stare out at the empty road. “No thank you, I am just fine.”
Matilda frowned slightly as she walked away, looking back at his strange, bent figure. The wind had a very sharp bite to it as it whipped down the alleyways and onto the road, tangling with the autumn leaves and catching shards of sleet. The old man had been standing at the corner for forty-five minutes, and she worried for him.
fjdfjsdjl
There she was. The girl of his dreams, along with her girlfriends. Always together, always having fun, always laughing. She was just beautiful. He approached the girl with the beautiful blue eyes.
He approached me from behind, and it was too late for me to react when his arms folded across my chest like taut, browned ropes. In the next moment, I heard a crack, like someone breaking a car window, and a short yelp. I felt my body lurch forward, free from my potential captor, as the man wound up lying on his back with his hand over his now obviously broken nose.
approached
a girl
a girlscout
a girlscout with cookies.
I used to sell cookies as a girlscout.
I was one of the people who sold the most
I want cookies
I don’t like Thin Mints
I like the gingerbread ones..and the peanut butter ones too.