Samantha is concerned about the butter.
Jonathan is burying his dead dog.
Alice is hemming his pants.
Marie is practicing her putt in the backyard.
Luther is constructing another boat out of pre-made parts.
Jan is hoping no one notices the mark on her chin where she fell after her 4th vodka.
Becky is watching herself in the mirror as she pierces her ear for the third time with a thumbtack.
Jeff is comfortably crosslegged on his roof, watching the light subside and swatting at bees.
Darlene is learning how to short out the coffee-maker using just her tongue and a butter knife.
Ben is watching cloud formations for a sign.
David is lighting a series of small firecrackers under the neighbor’s house.
Isabel is mixing white nail polish in with her coffee as she sits on the front stoop.
Michelle is contemplating her father’s cancer as she picks through the marred tomatoes in her ice box.
Ellen is parked in her driveway, counting her children on her fingers, and then counting again.
Does this seem boring and/or arbitrary? It's my own little leaves of grass.