A Short Story
by Random Writer
Robert Khan had always loved magical Berlin with its raspy, resonant rivers. It was a place where he felt sad.
He was a cowardly, mean, port drinker with pretty fingers and dirty eyebrows. His friends saw him as an alive, amused angel. Once, he had even helped a wide owl cross the road. That's the sort of man he was.
Robert walked over to the window and reflected on his industrial surroundings. The hail pounded like walking dogs.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Sonya Connor. Sonya was a modest elephant with skinny fingers and pointy eyebrows.
Robert gulped. He was not prepared for Sonya.
As Robert stepped outside and Sonya came closer, he could see the xanthic glint in her eye.
"I am here because I want a resolution," Sonya bellowed, in a virtuous tone. She slammed her fist against Robert's chest, with the force of 6108 blue bottles. "I frigging love you, Robert Khan."
Robert looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the bendy book. "Sonya, what's up Doc," he replied.
They looked at each other with worried feelings, like two sleepy, sharp snakes sleeping at a very sinister wedding, which had flute music playing in the background and two malicious uncles bouncing to the beat.
Robert regarded Sonya's skinny fingers and pointy eyebrows. He held out his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.
"Hmph," pondered Sonya.
"Please?" begged Robert with puppy dog eyes.
Sonya looked barmy, her body blushing like a moaning, mushy map.
Then Sonya came inside for a nice glass of port.
THE END
