A Sentence Spliced Cannot Stand

Perhaps it was an overwrought projection of her own tumultuous emotions, but she swore she could see them quivering with passion as they faced one another. She had undeniably caused their split, but torrents of remorse undulated through her shivering frame. They belonged together—she could see that now. And theirs was such a weak divide; with but a single word, they could overcome this petty separation. Realizing that she alone could unite them, she redeemed her machinations by adding a coordinating conjunction after the comma, and the two independent clauses were joined as fate and proper sentence structure had intended.

Hangman’s Indent

Shaking her head in pity as the rain drizzled down, she gazed upon the contorted forms before her. “Why can’t you just learn?” she whispered. “So much time, so much pain. And for what? This is never the right way to go.” She averted her eyes briefly, ground out her cigarette, and then quietly but methodically replaced all the individual spaces with a proper hanging indent.

Unhealthy Serials

She squinted and then blinked hard, trying to bring her eyes into focus. Just how many of them were there? She couldn’t tell at first; it was all a jumble, and the uncertainty only made her head hurt more. But time was not on her side, and she knew what must be done to save others from this ghastly disarray—judgments be damned.

With a deft click, she added the serial comma.

The Real Curse of the Mummy

The palpitations were starting again, and her stomach churned. How could this plague be so ubiquitous? It had to be stopped, but how? She had no answers, and she could muster no courage against this ever-encroaching affliction. Exhausted and discouraged, she turned away from the nauseating sight of yet another store sign ravaged by Papyrus.

Margin of Error

She stared, mouth agape in abject horror and disgust. What kind of monster would breach convention so flagrantly? Had they no sense of righteousness, of common dignity? Valiantly choking back the bile, she changed the margins back to one inch on all sides.

A Font of Desire

After years of teasing glimpses, she finally succumbed to the seductive mystery of Tipo de letra del sistema Fina. How simple and unassuming Tipo was compared with the flourishes she had once loved but lately grown tired of! Alas, it was a satisfying but ultimately temporary flirtation. Constrained by her vows of loyalty, she resigned herself to selecting all and changing the document back to Times New Roman. But Tipo would always be there, making her wonder what could have been.