"Grill me a burger, wont ya?" Thats what he said the night he died.
It was a cold Tuesday afternoon. He wished it was a slightly warmer Saturday afternoon. But it wasn't. It was, actually, a cold Tuesday afternoon. Despite the fact that he sorta wished it was a slightly warmer, perhaps even dryer Saturday afternoon. On this cold Tuesday afternoon (unfortunate to him, since he had the ideal in mind that a slightly warmer Saturday afternoon would be more enjoyable) He walked onto the road. The road was black and hard, like a road. Or maybe asphalt. It had a sort of... asphalt-ish smell to it. The paint was dried by now, thankfully. If it wasn't, the road would've been wet. But, fortunate for him, the road was, in fact; dry. It wasn't a particularly new road, as the asphalt has begun to fade a bit, like fading, as in time. Y'know, the fading of time. This is the thing that affected the asphalt. of the road. The road which was made of asphalt. It had been here a bit, thus the fact that the paint was now dry. The now dry paint, which has dried by now, was fortunately dry enough for his liking. He liked his roads to be considerably dry, like a well worn road. The dryness of the road was, somewhat subconsciously to him, noticeably dry. While this dryness didn't exactly stand out to him, it was true that the now dry road (after having been rained on, at some point in time) was now dry. He didn't really notice this, but it's worth mentioning that the road was dry. Like a dry road.
As his converse sneakers, (the black ones, to be exact) made slow contact with the dry asphalt road, (which, to my knowledge, was made of asphalt) a subtle crunch of asphalt pebbles made a crunching sound, similar to the sound of asphalt crunching under someone's black converse shoes. His black converse shoes, which were neither well worn nor brand new but rather something in the middle, crunched the asphalt on the dry road. Fortunately, this road was dry enough so that the man did not slip on it, due to paint, water, or otherwise.
Fortunately for him, the dry asphalt crunching under his semi-worn black converse shoes, whose laces were of normal length for said shoes, due to the fact that the length of said laces are usually the same, as they are made in a factory, was not large enough to warrant tripping, or, perhaps even sliding him across the (rather dry) pavement. He looked straight ahead, past the rather dry asphalt road onto his neighbors house, and eventually his neighbor. "grill me a burger, won't ya?" he said, half- joking. His neighbor's house had a small pathway, leading from the dry asphalt road to the house. This pathway was made of gravel, a sort of crunchy gravel that crunches under one's feet, in a similar fashion to how dry asphalt may crunch under one's feet. This gravel was somewhat crunchy, like asphalt. Despite their similarities, this gravel's crunch was rather crunchy, similar to asphalt. However, this specific gravel was bought from the Home Depot, which sells gravel, as well as other things. Fortunately, the home depot from which this man's neighbor bought this gravel was, fortunately, carrying this gravel at the time which it was purchased. If that were not the case, said gravel would be un-purchaseable, due to the fact that it is not in stock, and, thus, could not be bought, due to the fact that it is not in the warehouse at the time of non-purchase. Fortunately for this man's neighbor, however, this gravel was, in fact, able to be purchased at the time that it was purchased. If not for this, it would not have been purchased.
This gravel pathway began to crunch a bit, in a similar fashion to how, say, asphalt would crunch under one's feet, as his neighbor adjusted his weight, looking at the man who had just asked him to grill him a burger. The weight of his neighbor's weight was weighty enough to weigh upon his purchased gravel, which was rather weighty in itself. The weight of his neighbors weight began to cause the crunchy (purchased) gravel to start crunching under his weight. It crunched in a similar manner to how asphalt, perhaps particularly dry, might crunch under one's shoes. It crunched a few times, and began to make a sort of crunching noise. This noise somewhat resembled crunching, similar to the sound that asphalt pebbles make when someone steps on them. This crunching sound, which sounded somewhat crunchy, was a rather crunchy sound indeed. The sound which this legally purchased gravel made, which some might liken to a sort of crunch, crunched under his neighbors weight. His neighbor laughed, and then shot the man across from him dead. The crunch of the gravel under his weight had been somewhat overpowered by the somewhat louder noise of a gunshot. Shortly after, though, the gravel's crunch could be heard again as the neighbor shifted his weight once more, which caused a sort of crunchy sound to come from the gravel beneath him, in order to return to his house in peace. The gravel's crunch was repetitive, like an asphalt crunch. In fact, some might say that the crunching sound of this particular gravel would be comparable to the crunching sound sometimes made when one may place one's weight upon some dry asphalt. It was a kind of... crunchy sound.
The asphalt of the road of which the man now lay on was still dry, and it crunched under his weight. Its sound could be likened to that of gravel, particularly the legally purchased kind. Fortunately for him, if he were to become curious about what other materials may potentially make a similar sound to the asphalt pebbles which just crunched, he was a mere feet away from his neighbors gravel, which crunches considerably similarly to asphalt pebbles- at least, the dry ones. This could potentially confuse those who are unable to see and rely on sound to guide their way through, as the sound of this dry asphalt road and the legally purchased gravel beside it, were considerably similar to each other. Fortunately for his neighbor, his neighbor was not blind, and thus was able to tell a rather plain, obvious difference between gravel and asphalt. Although this asphalt was somewhat drier than perhaps he may have anticipated, the visual contrast was plain enough to not confuse a man of adequate intelligence, such as his neighbor. His neighbor, despite his similarities to his neighbor, did not, in-fact, particularly wish that today had been a slightly warmer Saturday afternoon, quite unlike his neighbor. Despite this fact, it was, in fact, a rather cold Tuesday afternoon. A cold Tuesday afternoon which, due to its seeming coldness, was rather cold. And it was on said cold Tuesday afternoon that a certain man dropped dead.
