One summer day, I was talking with a group of people outside, near the SWKT. We were standing near a number of vents and panels in the ground to which I'd never paid much attention. Suddenly, one of the panels opened and out climbed about a dozen of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in my life, wearing sunglasses, camo pants, and tight black T-shirts.
They were members of the Provo SWAT team, taking some sort of tour of the tunnels under BYU campus. (Yes, there really are tunnels under BYU. They are home to the legendary tunnel worms and, apparently, a bunch of really hot guys.) After surveying the area and talking for a bit, they turned around and climbed back down into the tunnel, presumably to continue the tour.
I always thought that there was something vaguely mythical about grown men suddenly springing from the earth and kind of hoped I’d see it happen again, but I never did.
Props to bawb for being the only one to say “Um, what are you smoking, Katya?” (I’m not sure if it’s a 1-2-1 or not. Maybe a 1-1-1.)
The sun shone on the valley. The women stood in groups and talked.
The ground opened and twelve beautiful men emerged, dressed in the colors of the earth, their eyes dark and inscrutable. One of the women turned and stared. The leader of the beautiful men pointed at the land and spoke to the men of the battles they would fight. The men looked at the land and nodded in understanding. The beautiful men turned around and crept back into the earth, followed by their leader.
The woman walked to the place in the ground where they had disappeared and waited for them to reemerge.
You know how sometimes you visit people and you have a great time, but in the back of your mind you also realize that it's going to be a while before you see them again, so you're a little bit sad the whole time, too?
My next-door neighbor is a very attractive Swedish guy who won't give me the time of day. (Figuratively.) Maybe he's shy or maybe he just doesn't think I'm worth giving the time of day to. Either way, he's no good to me. But I can certainly appreciate Swedish, um, culture from afar. (Mmm, Swedish.)
Along those lines, I have decided that Melyngoch needs to go to Sweden and convert a hot orange Swedish guy for me to marry.