The pioneers’ bone yard, headstones askew, marked where the dirt road crossed the highway. Dust swallowed Jason’s truck as he pulled onto the asphalt. No bones about it, Jason did not see the oncoming semi, which with bone-crunching force hit his truck broadside and T-boned it.
A month later when Jason, slender to begin with, was finally discharged from the hospital he was hardly more than skin and bones and still had a tender funny bone. The urologist told him that it would be months before he could expect to have a boner again.
For several reasons, graduate school for now was out of the question. The dean had cut the paleontology department’s budget to the bone, and his message struck the faculty close-to-the-bone because several of them would be dismissed, which, of course, raised big bones of contention among the least secure. Although far from boneless, some of those at risk, rather than continuing to jawbone in protest, joined Jason in looking elsewhere for jobs, even freelance gigs writing contrived stories containing bone expressions.
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