Funny Metaphors Novels & Stories

“ Cuckoo” “ Daffy” “ Lunkhead” “ Whacky” “ Zany” “ Loony” “ Kooky” “ Screwball” “ Half-baked” Hudson snapped. “ Inept” “ Daft” “ Dippy” “ Dotty” “ Birdbrain” Alvara snapped back. “ Chucklehead” “ Chowder head” “ Boobish” “ Airhead” “ Brain dead” “ Dense”

“Yeah. I mean, two days ago I was miserable for a second. But now? I feel like a happy, mentally stable walnut.” Sophie stared. “A walnut.” “Yes.” “That’s your choice of metaphor.” “Do you not see the vision?” “No.” “Wow. Okay. Fake friend energy.” She laughed again and nudged my knee. “I’m serious though. You do seem good.” I nodded slowly, playing with the edge of the mat with my fingers. “Yeah I think I just stopped caring about the stupid stuff.” “Good,” she said. “Because honestly, you’re too dramatic for sadness.”

This was no feel-good fluff piece meant to reinforce some trite, overexploited message like 'love was real' or 'love always triumphs. Gray and I weren't actors. Our clothes weren't from a wardrobe department. Our words weren't printed on a script. Our home wasn't a set full of curated props. Our happy ending wasn't guaranteed. In our living room, I spoke ad libitum, straight from my heart. With her beside me on the couch, I told her how things had changed for me. Working within the confines and limitations of language, I turned to metaphor, to simile. As evinced by the mere existence of poetry itself—to concretize ambiguous ideas such as 'love' or 'happiness' using plain language always, alw

That comment to Dylan had most definitely not been just a joke—he’d been very, intensely serious. And that man was stepping up to the plate now, ready for his turn at bat. Oh God, he was getting sick of the baseball metaphors. The app beeped as she replied with: So I see you’re like, Mr. Triathlon and ski dude, and my idea of exercise is walking across the room to get the remote.

she countered. I sighed. “Enough with the metaphors. Al has been kind and helpful to me. Zander has been protective and helpful. Let’s just leave it at that.” “Protective and helpful? Is that what you call cooking your dinner last night and breakfast this morning? Helpful?” “He’s an ass most of the time,” I told her. “Sounds like a cat that’s been bit by a dog trying to get used to a new dog,” she said, falling back on the metaphor.

“I don’t.” He blinked, then laughed. “Wow. Okay.” I poured myself a drink, sipped on it and leaned back. “Why are you blushing?” “I’m not.” “You are.” He fidgeted with his napkin. “Maybe because you’re intense.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “No. It’s hot. You’re…” He looked at me, eyes full of some kind of ridiculous admiration. “You’re like a lioness.” I chuckled. “How poetic. Is that what you’re studying in school these days? Animal metaphors?”

Yashita smiled slightly as she looked at her father and spoke up as she asked, “Dad, what kind of feeling are you talking about?” Holden thought for a moment before he spoke up, “How should I explain this... To use an analogy, you’re just like a pool of water. Right now, the surface area for the person that you are today does not seem to have changed much compared to how you were yesterday. So, it seems as though there is no change at all if I were to just look at you. However. I have this constant feeling that this pool of water seems to have deepened a lot overnight, and I have a feeling that it is bottomless. This makes me feel a little puzzled.” In truth, the metaphor that Holden had use

It's a small button nose "How can y-you joke about that r-right now?" "I don't know though. To be honest, I didn't know how I felt at first. I mean, Caramel, you usually squeak like a little mice, then all of a sudden, you're squeaking louder. Like a really angry mice whose cheese was stolen, and I don't know, food is important to me so I really understood how you felt" He stares at me completely lost for a while before he smiles "You always say the silliest things" But I am serious. I know, my metaphor didn't correlate but I'd be angry that way if my mice was stolen.

“Metaphor.” “Yes. Metaphor. You know ” I gestured vaguely, searching for a safe example. My gaze snagged on him again. Bad idea. Terrible idea. “When something stands in for something else. Like… like how your hoodie is armor. You wear it like it’ll keep people out. Like if the hood’s up and the sleeves are long enough, no one can get close enough to see anything you don’t want them to see.” The silence that followed was sudden and thick.

she giggled at her own joke. Guila’s giggle rippled through the air, a moment of levity amidst the heavy atmosphere. Her joke, bizarre and unexpected, painted a vivid picture in my mind. I couldn’t help but smile at her words, the image she conjured absurdly amusing. It was as if, even in the darkest moments, she managed to find a glimmer of humor, a ray of light that pierced through the shadows.