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Glen Charles Rowell05/19th2 min read
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Glen Charles Rowell05/19th2 min read
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Glen Charles Rowell05/19th2 min read
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Idyllic Newton Abbot

A Short Story
by Random Writer

Part 1

Zoe Chan was thinking about Laura Jones again. Laura was a predatory brute with grubby spots and dirty arms.

Zoe walked over to the window and reflected on her grand surroundings. She had always loved idyllic Newton Abbot with its thoughtful, tense tunnels. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel ambivalent.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a predatory figure of Laura Jones.

Zoe gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a hilarious, brave, squash drinker with ginger spots and sticky arms. Her friends saw her as an encouraging, excited elephant. Once, she had even rescued a wonderful baby flamingo from a burning building.

But not even a hilarious person who had once rescued a wonderful baby flamingo from a burning building, was prepared for what Laura had in store today.

The snow flurried like sitting mice, making Zoe confident. Zoe grabbed a stripy book that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Zoe stepped outside and Laura came closer, she could see the troubled glint in her eye.

Part 2

“Look Zoe,” growled Laura, with an admirable glare that reminded Zoe of predatory lizards. “It’s not that I don’t love you, but I want a fight. You owe me 7966 euros.”

Zoe looked back, even more confident and still fingering the stripy book. “Laura, what’s up Doc,” she replied.

They looked at each other with cross feelings, like two concerned, curvy cats partying at a very down to earth disco, which had trance music playing in the background and two caring uncles sleeping to the beat.

Zoe regarded Laura’s grubby spots and dirty arms. “I don’t have the funds …” she lied.

Laura glared. “Do you want me to shove that stripy book where the sun don’t shine?”

Zoe promptly remembered her hilarious and brave values. “Actually, I do have the funds,” she admitted. She reached into her pockets. “Here’s what I owe you.”

Laura looked healthy, her wallet blushing like a racid, robust ruler.

Then Laura came inside for a nice beaker of squash.

THE END

See story 1