I was talking on IRC last night, and remembered a silly old thing I came up with back in high school. Today, I realized that I could post it here. It's not a story or a poem or anything, but hey, maybe you'll enjoy it.
The Verb
The verb was tense. It was getting late, and he was afraid he would be unable to preform his conjugal duties. He'd used his past forms too much already; they had long since become old.
What else could he do? "The present is good," he reflected, "but hard to maintain for any real length of time." He was running out of options. He needed a plan.
Suddenly, a thought occurred! There was something, after all! It wasn't quite right, and he'd been hoping to save it for later, but it would have to do. "I will try using the future imperfect!" Nervously, he shifted forms, and hoped...
