The Ribbed Rock

A Short Story
by Anonymous

Alison England was thinking about Maud Bishop again. Maud was
an intelligent carer with squat ankles and short thighs.

Alison walked over to the window and reflected on her chilly

surroundings. She had always loved hilly Los Angeles with its
encouraging, enthusiastic estuaries. It was a place that
encouraged her tendency to feel ecstatic.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It

was the an intelligent figure of Maud Bishop.

Alison gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a

violent, adorable, squash drinker with blonde ankles and squat
thighs. Her friends saw her as a vacant, vivacious volcano. Once,
she had even jumped into a river and saved a happy kitten.
But not even a violent person who had once jumped into a river
and saved a happy kitten, was prepared for what Maud had in
store today.

The sun shone like singing giraffes, making Alison lonely. Alison
grabbed a ribbed rock that had been strewn nearby; she
massaged it with her fingers.

As Alison stepped outside and Maud came closer, she could see
the determined glint in her eye.

"Look Alison," growled Maud, with a modest glare that reminded

Alison of intelligent blue bottles. "It's not that I don't love you, but I
want some more Twitter followers. You owe me 2832 pounds."

Alison looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the ribbed
rock. "Maud, beam me up Scotty," she replied.
They looked at each other with worried feelings, like two deep,
damaged donkeys skipping at a very courageous wedding, which
had orchestral music playing in the background and two loving
uncles bopping to the beat.

Suddenly, Maud lunged forward and tried to punch Alison in the

face. Quickly, Alison grabbed the ribbed rock and brought it down
on Maud's skull.

Maud's squat ankles trembled and her short thighs wobbled. She
looked irritable, her wallet raw like a sticky, slow sausage.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the
ground. Moments later Maud Bishop was dead.

Alison England went back inside and made herself a nice beaker
of squash.

THE END