All the gizmos and whirligigs of modern times could not stop the inevitable moment of impact between Brian and the cow that slipped her bounds and stood in the middle of the darkened road.

He went off his diet in a blaze of Ho Hos, Twinkies and Moon Pies.

They rolled up the driveway with the lights off, cut the engine and waited.

As the temperature plummeted the petty crime rose, committed by men with hopes of getting a warm place to stay until spring.

"In the end it comes down to dumb luck," thought Dawn as her car careened down the embankment.

Lance spent the day nursing a hangover, watching the petals of the lilies on his mantle slowly open up.

It came to him in a dream, a talisman for the second half of his life: "Let mortality be your guide."