There always was ten little oompa-loompas eating turtles by the chocolate fountain. Their heads were shockingly large too because they lived beneath the giant acidic toenail which grew shorter every Tuesday afternoon. "Was that a flying elephant?" asked the oompa-loompa quietly. Another elephant flew towards an oompa-loompa which had majestically and fantastically green eyebrows. One oompa-loompa began dancing on water and he shouted: "Buchanan!" very squeakily. Then the crying rabbit jumped out and attacked with gargantuan, electrical slippers
I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest. The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time. Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus. If I were to pluck on your heart strings would you strum on mine?
He began to wonder why he had felt uneasy at all. It was like a man wondering in broad daylight why a dream had appeared so terrible to him at night. — Chinua Achebe, Things Fall Apart
