“Went shopping for a back-relieving foam mattress, lumpy like the morning’s snowfall melted by the warming afternoon.”
Near perfect in accuracy, and yet uneloquent in either case. Metaphors and similes must be magic, relative to bring the instant imagery and yet produce the pleasing, the horrific, the nodding-yes of acceptance in the reader’s mind.
(NOTE: Someone, somewhere–and I suspect it was at MetaxuCafe–posted about inappropriate metaphors in a particular short story collection and that post inspired this one. But I can’t remember where I read it, so I can’t give appropriate credit. I hate that. I hate when that happens.) (NOTE #2: Just found it via Metaxu at Bookface.)